Page 13 of The Highwayman's Bite

Rhys’s eyebrows rose. Scandal? What scandal? He shoved back his curiosity and the surge of jealousy in wondering if it involved a man, and returned his attention to the conversation.

“...and so I thought the husband hunting would be put to the side for the time being,” Vivian was saying. “But Uncle said that he intends for me to try and find a suitable match while I’m with him.”

“That is reasonable of him,” Renarde said. “Some of the respectable families here may not have heard of the scandal. After all, the Waverlys and the Brightons didn’t seem to know about it when they paid us a call yesterday. And I am sorry to say this, but time is of the essence. This was your third season and you are growing close to the age of spinsterhood.”

“I do not care,” Vivian said coldly. “Spinsterhood doesn’t sound so terrible.”

Renarde’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you do not wish to wed?”

Slowly, Vivian nodded. “I don’t think I do. I’ve been thinking of it ever since Father sent us here. In fact, I think that was why I recklessly ruined my reputation.”

“Why do you not wish to marry?” The companion prodded gently. “I’d thought you’d enjoyed conversing and dancing with gentlemen when we were in London.”

“Sometimes I did,” Vivian said. “But most of the time, I was uncomfortable when they looked at me like I was someone, maybe something else. None truly saw me. And when I think of marriage, I am filled with such terror that I almost feel ill with it. The idea makes me afraid, though I do not know why.”

“Do you fear the marriage bed?” Madame Renarde asked softly.

“A little,” Vivian answered with a tight shrug. “But not any more than the average maiden. At least I don’t think.”

Rhys’s face heated with guilt. This was a very intimate conversation and one that he did not need to hear for his purposes. Except, perhaps that she was still a maid. Unreasonable pleasure filled him at the knowledge, and not because it was useful.

“I’ve told you what happens between men and women, but I can elaborate further,” Renarde said. “And reassure you that most women enjoy it.”

“I am not so green that I do not know that some find pleasure in the act.” Vivian looked down at her lap as if embarrassed. “If that were not the case, married women would not carry on with affairs. Perhaps you can enlighten me further another time. Right now, I wish to think of a way to dissuade Uncle from seeking to get me leg-shackled.”

Renarde shook her head. “Part of my responsibility is to see you make a good match, and though I care about you too much to pressure you into doing what you do not wish to do, I feel I must understand the situation more, so that I can better help you find happiness.” The companion leaned forward, and Rhys had to strain to hear the next question. “Are you perhaps romantically interested in women?”

“Goodness, no!” Vivian laughed lightly, but with no disgust or malice. “My second cousin, Elizabeth, once tried to show me the ways of Sappho and I had no interest. I did recently hear that she has taken up residence with the widowed Lady Mortimer and they are very happy together.”

“Splendid for them.” Renarde beamed and clasped her hands together. “I didn’t think that was your inclination, especially after observing your response to the highwayman’s kiss, but one never knows unless one asks. Now that we’ve established that you have no physical objection to marriage, we can explore what lies in your heart and mind.”

Masculine pride swelled in Rhys’s chest. Vivian had responded to his kiss. He hoped she would never forget. In case she did, he would give her one more before he never saw her again.

The pleasure of that thought was doused with another. He’d had no idea that Madame Renarde had left the carriage and watched him duel with Vivian, much less that she’d seen Rhys kissed her. That unnerved him. No one, human or vampire had caught him unawares before. A darker realization filled him. And Renarde must have had Rhys’s gun, for he’d dropped it in the carriage.

He could not afford to have Vivian distract him like that. Not with everything that was at stake.

“Yes,” he heard Vivian say, “That kiss will haunt my dreams for the rest of my days.”

Damn it.

“But,” she continued, “Men like that cannot be found in Society. And besides, what are passionate kisses worth when you’re consigned to a lifetime of thing-hood?”

Madame Renarde’s brows rose to her hairline. Or was that a wig? “Thing-hood?”

Vivian nodded. “Yes. Wives in Society are basically things to their husbands, expected to look attractive on their arms, bear an heir and a spare, and host balls.”

“You would be in charge of the household,” Madame Renarde countered. “There is power there.”

“That is true, and I do not mind that aspect. After all, I’ve done it for Father.” Vivian fell silent a moment, stroking her chin before she turned back to her companion. “Perhaps I could stay with Uncle Aldric forever and care for him. I like it here.”

Rhys shook his head. There was no chance for that. Although the Lord of Blackpool often allowed his mortal descendants to stay with him, he never allowed them to remain long, lest they discover what he was. No wonder Lord Thornton was so eager to have his niece married off. Still, after only having Vivian with him for a week, the viscount seemed to be in a rush.

Unfortunately for Lord Thornton, his match-making plans would have to wait.

“Well,” Madame Renarde said as she rose from the bench, “I do not see how attending the Summerly ball will harm your chances of remaining in Blackpool. In fact, you may make a friend or two.”

“You’re right.” Vivian rose as well and held her fencing mask to her chest. “It is not as if I’ll receive an offer after one ball anyway.”

---