VIVIENNE MADE SURE she was alone in the drawing room before she tugged on the newspaper beneath the crook of her elbow. Stumbling upon it after it had been discarded by the duke, Vivienne had asked Preston if she could take it. The butler, confounded by her question had merely stated that the duke no longer needed it, so she was free to read it.
Her fingers flipped passed the political section towards the end. Her eyes drank in the description of last nights evening at Almack's.
Like the start of every season, the young debutantes and their mamas descended upon Almack's like flock of sheep. Some seemed promising, while others looked as though it would be their first and last evening at Almack's. But besides the glitz and glamour that the Lady Patronesses bestow upon the ton every Wednesday, nobody could have predicted the arrival of the Duke of Lennox.
With a surprising twist to the evening, His Grace who had avoided every soiree thus far, graced the ballroom of Almack's to dance with a mysterious debutante—Lady Vivienne. Not much is known about the illustrious Lady Vivienne, only that she was coming out for the season under the tutelage of the Dowager Countess of Torrington. Now that, is something, we could not have predicted my dear reader. We will have more scoop on who exactly Lady Vivienne is, and how she ensnared the Duke of Lennox for a dance very soon.
But that was not the end of an eventful evening at Almack's. Our dear duke, once again made an appearance—this time, speaking to his former betrothed, Lady Cobham.
Vivienne gasped and the paper slipped from her fingers. Quickly picking it up, she continued reading.
It seemed like quite the chilly meeting between the two. Our dear readers will remember that last season the Duke of Lennox had been courting Lady Cobham, then known as Lady Madeline. Taking London by storm, they seemed headed for the alter until the lady jilted him and married Baron Cobham instead—much to the disgrace of her family. It seems like the poor duke's heart is still broken, but the possibility of Lady Vivienne mending it back delights us very much.
Vivienne placed the newspaper on the ottoman beside her. Her mind was still shocked from everything that she had read. James had been courting Lady Cobham last year? It was hard to believe the two of them as a pair, but this was the missing piece of information she needed to better understand the bizarre encounter at Madame Joselyn's shop.
What she still didn't understand was how quickly James had left her last night. She had thought that he would not make it, and then she'd spun around to see him in his black waistcoat, powder white cravat, and tan knee-breeches. He had looked so handsome, that Vivienne was speechless until he kissed her gloved hand. She could still recall the tingles that went through her body when he had done so. James had led her through the dance and when it had ended, he had promptly disappeared, leaving her as confused as ever.
She hadn't seen the duke in the morning either. According to Preston, the duke had retired much earlier than her and Lady Torrington and he had promptly left the townhouse in the early hours of the morning.
"Lady Vivienne."
Vivienne quickly stashed the newspaper underneath the folds of her dress guiltily as Preston looked at her with raised eyebrows. She sighed in relief, she thought it had been Lady Torrington.
"You have a caller; would you like for me to let them in?"
Vivienne frowned; she didn't know that someone would be inviting themselves over. Last night, she had spoken to a few ladies, but they hadn't exactly been as welcoming as she had hoped they might be. She didn't expect them to appear unless it was for gossip. Suddenly feeling ill, Vivienne clenched her stomach—she hoped nobody was coming to ask her about James. It was the last thing she wanted. There was only one way to find out, "Let them in, and please ask the housekeeper to send a tray of biscuits and tea."
Preston bowed and left the room. The grandfather clock in the hallway echoed loudly and there was some shuffling before a bright voice called to her, "Vivienne! Why do you look so grim?"
Vivienne smiled in relief as her eyes met Fiona's. "I was just focusing on my thoughts," she gestured to the empty settee, "Please, take a seat."
Fiona unwrapped her bonnet and settled down. "I simply could not wait to see you. Last night was quite eventful, wasn't it?"
Fiona gave Vivienne a meaningful glance and she blushed underneath her friend's watchful gaze. "It was magical," she admitted. It had been, until James had left her—that was.
"Well, that makes two of us," Fiona said with a wide smile. She leaned in towards Vivienne, "Lord Berkeley informed me last night that he intends to court me."
Vivienne's eyes widened and she gasped, clutching her heart, "My goodness!"
Fiona blushed a rosy colour, that was very similar to her hair. Her eyes were glazed with mirth and happiness. "Yes, we spoke while you were dancing. He said that he had never thought that I would care for him in that way, but after he had gotten over the shock, he felt relieved."
"Relieved?" Vivienne said with a pit in her stomach. Although her friend seemed happy, it didn't seem like Lord Berkeley shared the exact same feelings that Fiona did.
"Oh no," Fiona said glancing at Vivienne's expression. "I'm doing quite terrible at explaining this—it's just that I'm so giddy."
"Did he at least profess his feelings for you?"
Fiona shook her head. "No, he was quite the gentlemen. But he did confess that he never saw me as Henry's little sister, but also something more. He then called me beautiful," Fiona sighed the last few words.
Vivienne mused about all that she had heard. She didn't know much about love, but she believed that Lord Berkeley could have done better at admitting his feelings for her friend.
"He's going to speak to my brother today," Fiona said with a nervous smile. "He told me how he considered Henry a brother and wanted to receive his blessing first."
"All for a courtship?"
"Well," Fiona fidgeted with her fingers, "we are hoping that it will lead to more."
Vivienne took Fiona's hand in hers. "I know Lord Berkeley can be kind, but just be careful."
By the smile on Fiona's face, it seemed like her friend was not heeding her warning at all. Vivienne sighed; she only hoped the best for Fiona. After loving that man for so long, she deserved to be fiercely loved as well.
***
James could scarcely believe that he had been sitting in the House of Lords for the last five hours, yet they were not in agreement about the bill. Frankly, after hour two, James lost his interest and all he could think about was Vivienne and the Earl of Westmoreland. His mind switched between both topics, often remembering the turquoise gown Vivienne had been adorned in and her warm eyes during their dance, and then he would remember that he still hadn't spoken to the Earl.
Glancing across the aisle, he saw Westmorland fidgeting as well. James vowed that he would catch the earl as soon as the damned parliament came to an end. He wasn't the only restless gentlemen in the room. He saw plenty of glances going to the clock in the middle of the chamber.
"Enough," the speaker said, banging his gravel. "I do not believe that we shall come to a resolution this evening. Let us pick up back in the morning."
There was immediately a flutter of activity and it reminded James of Eton when the boys would run out after finally being released from class.
"For fuck's sake, do they really believe much is going to change tomorrow? It will be the same argument we've been having for the last five hours," Headfort said grumpily as he came to stand beside James.
"The privilege of being a peer," James said dryly. His eyes scanned the room and he saw Westmorland making his exit.
Headfort was saying something else but James didn't hear it. He turned to his friend, "I'll speak to you later, I have something to do."
Before Headfort could respond, James was already walking briskly towards Westmoreland. Luckily for him, it seemed as though the earl wasn't particularly fast and he caught up with him, just as they exited the chamber.
"Westmoreland," he shouted, getting the earl's attention.
The earl raised his head looking for the person who had called him and he frowned when he saw that it was James.
"Lennox," the earl said, walking up to him, stick lightly thumping on the carpeted floor. "May I help you with something?"
James nodded, "I was hoping to ask you a few questions."
He immediately saw the earl becoming much colder. "What is this regarding? If it is about my army service, those are confidential secrets."
James shook his head, "No."
Westmorland's shoulders slipped a bit. James hadn't known that the earl had been in the army, but whatever the man had seen there, was clearly unpleasant.
They both moved to the side as some of the lords made their way to the exit. "I wanted to ask you about your niece."
The earl's eyebrows scrunched up, "Lady Selina?"
James' heart tightened upon hearing the name. "Yes, I know that she disappeared near the death of your brother, but do you have any other information about her?"
"Why would a duke be asking about my niece?" Westmorland gave him a suspicious look.
James looked around at the dwindled crowd before he stepped closer to the earl. "A couple of months ago, my solicitor came across a betrothal contract between Lady Selina and me. I was wondering if you had any information regarding that."
Westmorland's head jerked back as James explained the stipulations of the betrothal contract.
"I believe my brother was irrational sometimes but to form a betrothal contract when my niece was so young, it is preposterous. I do not believe that the contract can be held up in a court, it must be null."
James shook his head slowly. "That was one of the first things my solicitor checked. Because Lady Selina was not pronounced dead, it is still legally binding."
"Blazing hell," Westmoreland said in awe. "I see now why you are searching for Lady Selina—you wish to break the betrothal contract."
James shrugged his shoulders; he honestly did not know what he would do if he found out that Lady Selina was still alive. Right now, he needed to figure out if she was dead or alive to plan his next move. If she was alive and somehow James got her to break the contract, he would get Denbury manor as payment and according to the information his solicitor had provided him, the manor would fetch an extremely handsome price.
"It's no use Your Grace. I hired Bow Street Runners to look for my niece, but they came up with nothing. It seems that there were no traces—she simply vanished off the face of the earth. I fear she may be dead after all."
James ranked his fingers through his hair in frustration. How the hell did nobody know about the disappearance of one child! In that moment, James was annoyed with his father for signing the betrothal contract in the first place. The entire mess could be avoided if the previous Duke of Lennox had not signed the damn piece of paper.
"I would need proof of her body to be released from the contract" James said tightly. "And I do believe that foul play was involved. The documents in the Home Office make evident of that I am sure."
The Earl perked up, "what documents in the Home Office?"
James was just about to explain when there was a loud distraction in the corridor. He watched in amazement as Headfort decked Berkeley right in the stomach. Berkeley went flying as he crumpled on the ground.
"For fuck's sake," James said as he sighed and ran to his friends.
He swiftly stepped in between Headfort and Berkeley before the former could get another punch in. "This is not the place Henry. If you both want to brawl, do it on the streets instead of in Westminster."
James saw Henry's face, which was almost as red as his hair. Sighing he turned back to Berkeley and bent down until he was eyelevel with his friend, "Are you going to be fine Cedric?"
Berkeley gave a weak moan before he slowly got up the floor with James' assistance. He could see the uncharacteristic anger in the viscount's eyes. Before the two of them could do any further damage, James firmly clasped both of their elbows and led them outside of Westminster. After ensuring they were a safe distance away in a street which James did not recognize, he let go of their arms.
"What is the matter with the both of you?"
Berkeley wiped away the blood from his nose with his hand. James, disgusted by the behaviour, passed him a handkerchief. James turned back to Headfort, "Why the bloody hell did you punch him?"
"He's been messing around with my sister behind my back!" Headfort shouted, his eyes narrowing into slits. "When I asked you to keep an eye on her at Almack's you must have been laughing with glee."
"It isn't anything like that!" Berkeley shouted. "We only spoke at Almack's and shared a dance—nothing more."
Headfort snorted, "You think I'm going to believe your word after you lied right to my face?"
There was a passerby who looked at them curiously, but James tuned them out and turned to Headfort. "You might not believe his word, but you will believe mine. There was nothing going on between the two of them before Almack's. I was there that night and Cedric did not behave in an ungentlemanly manner towards Fiona."
Headfort shook his head bitterly and he looked at James with a sense of betrayal. "You knew something was going on between the two of them, and you hid it from me as well?"
"It wasn't like that—"
"Fuck off," Headfort interjected before he spun around and walked away from the pair of them.
James watched as Berkeley made a move to follow Headfort, but he held up his hand to stop him. "Give him some time to dwell on his thoughts. Nothing is going to go through his thick head right now."
They both watched their friend's retreating figure until he could not be seen anymore.
---------------
Well things certainly got heated. Who do you think was right, Cedric or Henry?