The knock on her door brought Vivian upright in her bed.
Her mother walked in. ‘Dear, you’re going to be late for breakfast. I came to help you get dressed.’ She walked to Vivian’s bedside. ‘But what I really wanted to know is whether you and Everleigh have discussed marriage again?’
‘We have,’ Vivian said.
‘Then we might extend our stay a little longer. It’ll make you appreciate the way I’ve furnished our house more. If someone died, there aren’t any mirrors in this room to drape with black.’ She assessed the dark furnishings. ‘It does give the sense of a room dressed for mourning, when no one cared enough to return it to normal.’
‘This house is just dreary because of the weather.’
‘It’s dreary because it’s hard to make dark furniture add a splash of brightness to brown walls.’ She looked at the room again. ‘Would it be a crime to put a few gilt pieces around to reflect the light? Open the curtains wider? Add mirrors?’
‘I think we should leave, today,’ Vivian said. ‘As soon as Everleigh talks with Father. Everleigh is going to withdraw the proposal.’
Her mother took in a slow breath. ‘Is it what you want?’
‘Yes.’ She had to want it. She’d been in bed with him and melted into him, and he’d kissed her on top of her head and moved away.
He’d turned a special moment into something darker and more painful. He’d told her of the rift between his family and the inability to mend it. He’d told her of the distance he’d felt from his mother.
‘I can see things better now. More clearly.’ She flicked her eyes around the room. ‘The house reflects the owners.’
‘You’ll have to wait until later in the day for Everleigh to speak with your father,’ her mother said. ‘Rothwilde has taken your father off on some wild goose chase. With the weather this dreary, and for them to be out exploring the countryside, it can only mean that they both want the same thing.’ Her mother stared heavenwards. ‘Since I don’t think your father is finding a tavern, it is a case of matchmaking papas. They’re likely staying away to give you and Everleigh a chance to see things their way.’
Her mother helped her dress and took extra care with Vivian’s hair.
‘There,’ she said, finishing. ‘Everleigh is waiting at the breakfast table. I suspect he doesn’t usually take this long to eat. I told him I would get you.’
‘Et tu, Brute?’ Vivian said.
Her mother smiled, then chuckled. ‘Not really. If I were matchmaking, you’d already be married. Make your own choice. Either way, I’m fine with it. But I think you should have breakfast with him, as he is rather determined to have a meal with you.’
‘You said you’re not matchmaking.’
‘I’m not. You’re old enough to know your own mind, if that is an age any of us ever obtains.’
* * *
Everleigh had finished his meal, but he stood in the breakfast room, staring at the sole plate remaining. Waiting.
He’d expected to feel as if he’d done the right thing when Vivian had left his room. Not like a cad.
He owed her an apology, but if he gave her one, she might misunderstand.
He didn’t want to tell her goodbye. He didn’t want to see her walk out of his life, yet he didn’t want her to remain with one foot in and one foot out, and him the same. They could not stay together without the whole world knowing. She’d be ruined. Vivian could hardly handle stumbling over someone in the hallway.
He wondered if the servants would be disappointed that Vivian wasn’t to become mistress of the house, but he knew that the housekeeper would not welcome his wife easily.
Mrs Trimble would smile and say all the right words, but in a way that showed she was pained. That was as far as she would dare to go.
He had let her stay once after an infraction, but he would not do so again.
One could not throw an earl out of his own house, but his father knew where the funds for the salaries came from. Rothwilde had made certain Mrs Trimble kept out of Everleigh’s sight when Everleigh visited. Not that the estate was his favourite place to be.
But it was home. Not a home that he preferred, but the place he’d spent his childhood. The place his grandfather had visited him and where he and Daniel had rushed outside to listen to tales of bravery, and stories of cunning.
The unwelcoming façade never cheered him when he arrived, but still pulled him into it.
A skirt rustled and Vivian came into view.
‘It appears our fathers are out, roaming over the estate and meeting tenants.’
‘I’m not surprised. Father does that often. Although it doesn’t seem to stop his...’
He paused, thinking of his father’s gambling habit. His father had not asked for funds recently, nor had he been to the clubs.
‘My grandfather used to give me all sorts of advice,’ he said, as Vivian filled her plate from the sideboard. ‘He said I should always keep my vision on what is behind me, beside me and in front of me. And not to be losing my direction.’
‘Why would he tell you a ridiculous thing like that?’
‘He would laugh afterwards. He wanted me to keep aware, but not to let what was going on be such a distraction that I lost my own direction. If he were here now, he would probably tell me I’m missing something.’
He took a sweet from the sideboard. Shortbread. He looked at the triangle shape and realised he had an answer to whether Cook was pleased to have the guests.
Taking two of the triangle-shaped biscuits, he sat across from her. He offered her the shortbread for later consumption, but she waved it away.
He could see he might have trouble keeping a secret about their togetherness as much as she would. ‘Did you sleep well?’
She took a bit of bacon and nipped an end of it. ‘Of course.’
He tasted the confection. ‘I’ll tell your father, when he returns, that I’m withdrawing the proposal. Rothwilde will be disappointed.’
‘My father will probably be upset. He even wished for me to marry while I was ill. He seems to think he’s failed if I don’t marry.’
‘You may some day. You still can, you know.’
She deliberated on the bacon, then raised her chin high. ‘I have options in my future.’
He couldn’t respond. He had a feeling something might break if he did and he wasn’t sure if it would be the bacon or glassware.
Then she popped the last bite into her mouth and the tension in her lessened. She lifted her fork. ‘It may take Father a while to absorb the news, but once he sees that both of us are in agreement he’ll accept it.’
‘He’ll have no choice.’
Everleigh rose and moved around the table. Her fork was poised in mid-air. He made sure no one was aware and brushed a kiss on her cheek before leaving.