Page 11 of Adoringly, Edward
He blinked rapidly when he was all too close to losing control of his emotions. “Uncles can be there for you, too. I’ll never leave you.”
“Promise?”
His troubled gaze shifted to his lap as he recalled what his sister had said. Did the doctor truly think he wouldn’t live much longer?
Still, he squeezed his nephew endearingly and said, “I promise.”
A DESPONDENT SIGH escaped Vivienne as she stepped down from the carriage, returning home after another fruitless outing. She was starting to think this mysterious, masked man didn’t exist. The two allotted weeks were almost up, and she still had nothing to show for it.
She tightened her fur shawl around her shoulders, watching as a foggy breath left her lips after another sigh. These outings were taxing on her exhausted body. Every waking moment, rather than resting like she ought to, she had to hide her condition by being seen and by attending event after event until she wanted to drop. It didn’t help that the longer she remained upright, the more she wanted to vomit.
Holding it in was one of the hardest things she’d had to do.
Following her mother inside the palace, she allowed a servant to take her wrap and followed her mother to their family’s suite in the west wing of the castle. As she climbedthe long length of the curved staircase, she absently trailed her fingers over the smooth wood of the railing, her feet treading plush carpet.
Servants passed with a slight bow or curtsy. She hardly had the strength to acknowledge them when she simply wanted to collapse and fall asleep for several weeks.
Finally, when they reached the suites, everyone absent except the two of them and their twittering yellow canaries in cages, Vivienne loosened the strings on her corset and sighed in relief as she slumped onto the settee with her feet up. Her clothing was starting to get tighter. Soon enough, she would have to wear a different style of clothing altogether.
Thank the Mother Goddess it’s almost winter.
She would be able to hide her condition for a while longer wearing a shawl.
Mother tapped her fan in her palm as she surveyed Vivienne up and down. “We cannot wait any longer. You will marry Duke Hastings.”
“You promised me a few more days.”
“I’ve changed my mind. We are standing on perilous ground.”
Vivienne didn’t protest as she covered her face with her elbow. Hot, silent tears trailed down her cheeks as she recalled deep blue eyes, a breathtaking smile, and a spirit that matched hers in energy and playfulness. She would be losing so much.
But what more could she do? She had done everything that could possibly be done.
The tears quickly fell over her cheeks and seeped into her hair. Tears of heartache. Of frustration. Of hopelessness. What a dreary life she would have married to the monotone, self-enamored duke. The thought disgusted her. It dampened her spirits. Of course, she knew other women near her age who had married men twice older than them. Sometimes it was just theway things were. And perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t already fallen for another.
“Oh!” her mother gasped, making her jump.
“What is it?” She bolted upright and dried her tears, quickly joining her mother’s side. The older woman held an invitation to a party hosted by Lord Beaumont.
She perked up at the name. Years ago, they had been the best of friends. What had happened in the seven years of their separation? Although she hadn’t seen him in a long time, she’d seen the man’s sister at least a hundred times.
She released a long breath, trying her best to keep her meal down when the jarring movement of leaping to her feet churned her stomach in the most horrid way.
Mother tapped the invitation with a finger. “Lord Beaumont matches the physical description you gave me. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of him before now. He’s so…elusive. Doesn’t attend gatherings very often.”
Vivienne snatched the invitation from her mother, scanning the words several times before they finally sank in. The party was scheduled a few days from now, a formal event. “You think this could be him?”
“If it isn’t, then I have no choice but to marry you to the duke.”
She made a face. The duke was overly vain and selfish to the point of annoyance. He stood too close and his breath sometimes smelled of rot. Oh, and he was twice her age.
Nodding distractedly, her mother took the invitation back and wandered across the room. “Wear your red gown for this event. It looks best with your hair color and skin tone. Plus, it’s a bit more…snug in the upper bodice.”
“Mother!”
The other woman smiled apologetically. “You have a possible viscount to catch. You must use every asset available to you.”
Stress and anxiety ate away at her as she wrung one of her gloves between her fingers, pacing back and forth across the room. “It’s been seven weeks. If itishim, and he’s been so close all this time… Perhaps he never wanted to find me in the first place.”
