Page 47 of Someone to Watch Over Me
A maid came to help her from the bath, bringing with her a gown made of rich green cashmere. The simple garment closely followed the lines of her figure and fastened at the left side with a gold clasp. The narrow sleeves were finished with green ribbon, as was the wide shawl collar. The plunging neckline of the gown had been supplemented with a snowy white lace inset that contrasted crisply with the soft jewel-toned cashmere. The maid braided Vivien’s still damp hair and pinned it in a heavy coil at the crown of her head.
After thanking the maid, Vivien went to the door of the bedroom where Grant waited. She hesitated before entering, trying to gather the courage to ask him the nagging question that weighed on her mind. She was almost afraid to learn the answer. However, it served no one, least of all herself, to behave in a cowardly manner. The truth must be faced squarely, no matter how unpleasant it might be. Squaring her shoulders, she went into the room.
Grant had been seated in a chair by the window. He stood immediately, his gaze flickering over her. “How do you feel?” he asked quietly.
She tried to smile, but her lips felt too stiff. “I think…” she began, and swallowed hard. “I think there are some things you haven’t yet told me, aren’t there?”
His expression revealed nothing. “Such as?”
“I would like to know about your relationship with the real Vivien.”
Twelve
After seating Vivien in a damask-upholstered chair, Grant sat next to her. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees, and contemplated the coals on the grate for what seemed to be an unduly long time. And when he finally spoke, Vivien did not like the scrupulous way he seemed to be considering his words, as if he were preparing to present a nasty situation in its best possible light.
“All right,” Grant finally said, sliding a narrow-eyed glance at her. He sighed and rested his closed fists on his knees. “You have every right to know about my behavior concerning Vivien Duvall…but first let me say…” He paused as if he found it difficult to speak, and a muttered curse escaped his lips. “Dammit. I’ve done bad things in my life—I could write a list of sins a mile long. Some of them were done for the sake of survival, and some were out of pure selfish greed. And I have regrets. But of all the sins I’ve committed, I don’t regret anything half as much as the fact that I lied to you. And I swear on my life—no, on my brother’s grave—that I never will again.”
“What did you lie to me about?” Vivien asked softly, shivering as an icy lump of dread formed in her stomach.
His gaze arrowed to the hearth, and he didn’t answer.
As she watched his granite-hard profile, understanding dawned.
“About Vivien Duvall?” she guessed. “She was never your mistress…is that it? You never slept with her, as you claimed. But why?” She regarded him with raw bewilderment. “Why would you lie about such a thing?”
It took all of Grant’s self-discipline to remain there beneath her steady, clear-eyed scrutiny. It had never been difficult for him to own up to his misdeeds. He had always cheerfully rationalized his mistakes and pointed out to himself and everyone else that he was, after all, only human. However, this was something he couldn’t blithely skim over and forget. He had set out to take advantage of someone—a woman—and what was worse, his petty vengeance had been taken out on the wrong person. Guilt thickened his voice as he answered.
“I wanted revenge because of a lie Vivien had spread about me among the London gossip circles. On the night I found you and brought you here, I decided that I would sleep with you—her—as a salve to my pride.”
“And then what were you going to do? Use and discard her? Hurt her in return for the embarrassment she caused you?”
He gave a single shamed nod.
Vivien inhaled sharply. Perhaps it should have made her feel better that another woman, and not she, had been Grant’s intended target. But it didn’t. She didn’t want to think him capable of such pettiness, such dishonor. And it hurt dreadfully to realize that what for her had been an act of giving had been for him only an act of revenge. “I see.”
“No, you don’t.”
“The fact that I was injured and helpless didn’t matter to you,” she murmured. “In fact, it made it easier for you to take advantage.”
His eyes gleamed with frustration, and she sensed the sudden boiling of his emotions beneath his controlled surface. “It all went wrong from the beginning. You didn’t behave like the woman I thought you were.”
Vivien’s calmness evaporated as she was filled with a sense of utter betrayal. “You were the one solid thing in the world, the one person I could trust…and you’ve lied from the very beginning.”
“Only about our supposed affair.”
“Only?” she repeated, angry that he was trying to minimize his actions. “What if I had indeed been the real Vivien, and I were every bit as promiscuous and self-absorbed and unlikable as you expected? That doesn’t excuse your behavior at all.”
“If I had known who you really were—orweren’t—I would never have hurt you.”
“But you have,” she said bitterly.
“Yes, the damage is done.” His voice was flat and unemotional. “And all I can do now is try to make reparations and ask your forgiveness.”
“Not my forgiveness,” she corrected. “Vivien’s.”
Grant stared at her as if she had suddenly gone mad. “I’ll be damned if I’ll go with my hat in hand to that woman.”
“That is the only reparation I’ll accept.” She stared at him without blinking. “I want you to apologize to Vivien when you find her, for your cruel intentions toward her. And I’ll forgive you ifshedoes.”
