Page 72 of Someone to Watch Over Me
“I won’t,” Vivien said automatically. “If I did, I suspect that Lord Lane would haunt me from the grave. However, I do care for the boy, Victoria. He is so sweet and earnest and endearing. I doubt any man that honorable has ever loved me before. I know now that it was foolish and wrong of me to even consider his proposal. But I couldn’t help being swept away by him for a little while.”
Victoria reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand. “What will you do now? I hope you will stay with me and let me care for you until the baby is born.”
Vivien responded with a decisive shake of her head. “I’ll go to Italy, I think. I have many friends there, and I have need of some amusement after the past month. Besides, there is a particular gentleman…a count, actually…who has pursued me for years. And he’s rich as Croesus.” She smiled with pleasurable anticipation, all trace of wistfulness vanishing. “I think it may be time to let him catch me.”
“But you can’t continue to live that way,” Victoria murmured, stricken. “Not after the baby comes.”
“Of course I can. Don’t worry, I shan’t allow the baby to suffer in any way. He or she will have the best of everything; you can rest assured of that. As soon as it’s born and I regain my figure, I’ll find a new protector and figure out some arrangement for the child. Lord knows I’ll have servants aplenty to help me care for it.”
Victoria was aware of a sensation of heavy disappointment at her sister’s words. “But aren’t you tired of living as some man’s mistress? I’ll do whatever I can, and so will Mr. Morgan, to help you find a new situation.”
“I don’t want a new situation,” Vivien said matter-of-factly. “I like being a courtesan. It’s pleasant, easy, and profitable. Why shouldn’t I continue in a profession at which I happen to excel? And please spare me the remarks about decency and honor…I think there’s a certain kind of honor in doing something to the best of one’s ability.”
Victoria shook her head sorrowfully. “Oh, Vivien…”
“Enough,” her sister said in a brisk voice. “I don’t care to discuss it further. I’m going to Italy, and that’s that.”
“You must promise me something,” Victoria persisted. “If you eventually decide you don’t want the child, don’t give it to servants or strangers to raise. Please. I can’t stand the thought that a member of our family might…well, just send it to me.”
Vivien stared at her with a skeptical frown. “How odd. Why would you want anything to do with Lord Gerard’s bastard?”
“Because it’s your child too…and my niece. Or nephew. Give me your promise, Vivien.” As her sister continued to hesitate, Victoria added, “You owe it to me.”
“Oh, all right…I promise.” Stretching out her slippered feet, Vivien motioned for her to bring a cushioned stool covered in petit point flowers. As Victoria removed her sister’s shoes and arranged her feet on the stool, she was aware of Vivien’s speculative stare. “You haven’t mentioned a word about your relationship with Mr. Morgan,” Vivien remarked with deceptive idleness.
Victoria glanced up at her twin’s keen blue eyes. “What did he tell you when he came here?”
Vivien laughed and coiled a stray lock of glinting cinnamon hair around her finger. “What little he didn’t tell me, I was able to guess. Now, fess up, Victoria…Has he come up to scratch yet?”
Blushing, Victoria gave a slight nod. “He has proposed to me, yes.”
“And have you accepted?”
Victoria shook her head reluctantly. “I have a few doubts about the suitability of the match.”
“Oh, good God,” Vivien murmured, looking at her with a touch of loving exasperation. “You’ve been thinking too much again. Well, let me hear your worries.”
It was a pleasure for Victoria to unburden herself to the only person in the world who truly understood the way her life had been until now. “I don’t know if this is what Father would have wanted for me,” she said. “I don’t know if a woman like me is meant for such a life. Oh, Vivien, Mr. Morgan is such a remarkable man—I can’t help fearing that he’ll need more than I can provide. We’re not similar in character, background, or temperament…I don’t think anyone would consider us a suitable match—”
“Then why didn’t you refuse him?”
“Because I love him. It’s just that I’m afraid we’re not truly right for one another.”
Vivien made a scoffing sound. “Let’s dispense with the nonsense, Victoria. This isn’t a question of suitability, yours or his. You’re perfectly capable of accustoming yourself to new circumstances…and marrying a man of good fortune, though untitled, is not exactly a hardship.” Vivien rolled her eyes and sighed. “It is so like you to analyze a situation until you’ve made it ten times more complicated that it really is! Just as Father used to do.”
“Father was a wonderful man,” Victoria said, stiffening.
“Yes…a wonderful, virtuous, lonely martyr. After Mama left him, Father retreated into his shell and hid from the world. And you stayed with him and tried to atone for everything that had happened by becoming exactly like him. You’ve been living in this same damned cottage, poring over the same bloody books. It’s morbid, I tell you.”
“You don’t understand—” Victoria began hotly. “Don’t I?” Vivien interrupted. “I understand your fears better than you do. It’s always been safer for you to hide here alone than take the chance of loving someone and have him leave you.That’swhat your real worry is. Mama abandoned you, and now you expect the same of anyone else you might love.”
The ring of truth in the words stunned Victoria. She stared at her sister while her eyes prickled with tears. “I suppose…” she began, the sudden tightness of her throat making it difficult to speak. Vivien was right—she had never been the same after her mother had left her. The ability to be comfortable with love, to trust someone with her heart, had been stripped away from her, forcing her to build layers of self-protection that no one could reach through. Until Grant.
But he deserved her trust. He deserved to be loved without reservation or fear, without anything being held back. All she had to do was find the strength within herself.
“It was so much easier when Father was still alive,” Victoria said. “I convinced myself that he was all I needed. We kept each other from feeling lonely. But now that he’s gone…” She stopped, biting her lip as the tears overflowed.
Vivien sighed and stood with difficulty, reaching into the tiny drawer of a side table to procure a handkerchief. She dropped the linen square into Victoria’s lap. “That was two years ago,” she commented. “It’s about time to carry on with the rest of your life.”
