The Forgotten Duchess

Chapter Eleven | Aunt

JAMES WATCHED FROM the corner of his eyes as Vivienne took a sip of tea. It was the first time she ventured downstairs to join him for a meal since the Noir incident. It was quite peculiar having another person join the table after it being empty for so long. Thankfully, she didn't say much and continued eating her breakfast.

Placing the newspaper on the right side of his hand, he looked up at Vivienne who was still completely oblivious.

"I visited a few of my fields the last couple of days."

Vivienne set down her cup and raised and eyebrow, keeping her mouth silent but he saw the eagerness in her eyes.

James sighed, he was going to have to be honest with her. "You were right. I asked a few lords how much their lands yielded, and mine was very small in comparison."

Her green eyes turned to him, "and the farmers? What did you say when you asked them?"

"They cited numerous reasons but the greatest one being the soil is no longer fertile."

A smile came upon Vivienne's face, "Well, that can be fixed easily enough."

Before she could say anything else, there was quite a commotion at the door catching his attention.

He immediately stood up and walked to the entry way, "What is with all the ruckus, Martin?"

His butler gave him a grim smile, "It seems we have a visitor."

The door swung open, nearly hitting both Martin and James in the face.

"James," his great-aunt greeted him, extending her gloved hand to him. James kissed it dutifully. "Do be a dear and get your footmen to bring my trunks to my room."

"And exactly how many trunks did you bring with you this time?"

His great-aunt took off her bonnet, "Oh, I didn't bother counting that nonsense. There could be plenty of soirees and I simply didn't want to arrive unprepared."

James sighed, already regretting the decision of inviting his aunt. "Aunt Esme, as much it pains me to remind you, we are in the country with our closest neighbours being the Albermay's."

"Well then, that simply won't do. You'll host something here to keep me entertained, won't you?"

James would rather shoot himself in the foot, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he gestured to a couple of footmen to retrieve what he was sure would be a plethora of trunks. He turned around to see Vivienne standing in the corner. She must have heard all the noise and came to investigate herself. But before he could say anything, his aunt, as shrewd as ever, cut in.

"You must be the lady who is looking for a husband in the marriage mart."

He winced as Vivienne's face paled, and confusion lit her eyes. Anticipating her reaction, James had withheld the information that he set aside a dowry for her. The girl was so shy and skittish, she would have fainted upon hearing the news.

After much planning, he thought it was the perfect plan. Let his aunt transform the wallflower and get her married to someone who would take care of her. Meanwhile, James and the Bow Street Runner he hired would be on the lookout for Lady Selina to see if she would make an appearance during the season.

It was perfect, but like lambs, people didn't need to be notified of what awaited them until they were slaughtered for the greater good—lest they run away.

"I don't believe the two of you have met," James tried cutting the tension that had suddenly enveloped the room, "this is my aunt, the dowager countess Torrington."