“I will say,” Clara said. “We are certainly an entertaining family.”
Once breakfast was over, Alexander asked Vivian to speak in private. At this point, his uncle had given up waiting and gone for a walk, claiming to be in dire need of fresh air and nature. Clara and Penelope also disappeared, and William was promptly ensconced in his study.
His aunt was somewhere in the house, but Alexander couldn’t find her.
They walked into a small sitting room that had a view of the meadow and corrals where the horses were kept. Vivian went to the window and peered out. “Did you mean to apologize or to shock?”
“Apologize,” he insisted. “Although, arguably, my choice of words should have been different.”
She turned to look at him. Vivian was always beautiful but dressed in pale blue with her hair pulled into a simple style, she was breathtaking. Everything about her from her pouty lips to the slight lift of her nose called to him.
“Yes. Although memorable, I would not call it a proper apology.” There was a buttery hoarseness to her voice that seemed to reach out and caress his face. “I accept it, although I must admit that I too lost control of my senses.”
“How do you feel about us marrying?” His heart thudded at uttering the question, and he took a breath. “I know it’s not quite planned.”
Visibly swallowing, she seemed to search for what to say. “This may sound unbecoming, but I am pressed to find the words to say it any other way.” She hesitated. “As much as I’ve tried to fight my feelings, I am quite enamored of you, Alexander Yarnsby.”
Vivian continued, “That is to say…” Her lips twitched, but she managed a smile. “I am not averse to the idea of marriage.”
“I am glad to hear it.” He replied and took a step forward, only to stop when his aunt entered the room.
Theresa Torrington beamed. “I remained outside the doorway, even though your uncle insisted I enter. I am so pleased,” his aunt exclaimed, wiping a tear and rushing to him. “I love you so, Alex, and wish you to be happy.”
Vivian sniffed, and his aunt hurried to her. When he moved closer, Duchess Torrington held out an arm. “Go see William. I believe he has a plan for when you go to London next week.”
William looked up when he entered, then returned his attention to his ledgers. Alex sat at his own separate desk, listening to the scratching of William’s quill over the paper.
The writing on the documents before him went in and out of focus. He could not concentrate long enough to read an entire sentence. In truth, his mind was split between wishing to be alone with Vivian and going to London and ensuring his father’s money was not stolen.
“The ledger from your father’s office in London listed household expenditures and the bank account your father had here locally, correct?” William asked.
“Yes,” Alex replied. “I have since informed the local banker of what occurred.” He straightened. “I should go see if anyone has contacted him.”
William pushed away from his desk and stood. “Exactly what I was thinking, which is why I had two horses prepared for us.”
“The bank is not open today. It is New Year’s Eve.”
“I am sure Mr. Brown will not mind us stopping by his home for just a moment to inform him of the situation.”
Alex considered it. “If they spoke to him lately, it may be evidence against them.” They walked out. “I will go fetch my coat while you inform Clara and Aunt Theresa. I would like to make inquiries about the dead man while we are there.”
Although it was a cold day, being out on horseback made up for it. Alex and William rode at a steady pace to the nearby village to ensure they return before the afternoon.
“I cannot understand why anyone would wish to live in London,” William said as he looked around. “It is hard to breathe past the stench of the city.”
“Although vibrant and filled with activity, I agree with you. It takes days to adjust to the smell.”
The village came into view, and they rode directly to the banker’s house. Mr. Brown seemed glad for company and invited them inside for a cup of hot tea. After explaining what had happened, he informed them that no one had stopped by to see him.
Next, they went to find the constable and were surprised to find him in his office.
He met them at the door with a bright smile. “I’d hoped to see you, Mr. Yarnsby.”
“Didn’t expect for you to be working,” Alex replied.
The man shrugged. “Not much for us to do except continue work as usual. We are not privy to exclusive social gatherings and such.” The man’s demeanor changed as he leaned closer. “I got a wife and five daughters at the house. Enough noise to make a man mad.”
“Did anyone come to see about the dead man?” William asked. “Family?”
The constable shook his head. “No, he was always by himself. Never knew where he came from. He wouldn’t say. Yours is not the first house he’s made himself welcome to.” The constable waited a bit. “I planned to come out to inform you of other things I’ve uncovered.”
They also learned it was certain the dead man had been poisoned, and the brandy in the decanter was the cause.
As they rode back to Lark’s Song, Alexander considered what lay ahead. He’d have to speak to Vivian’s father, whom he’d met before. Albert Humphries was an amicable man, an actuary to some of the most prestigious families in London. A quiet man who preferred his overly cluttered study to social events. Alex found he liked the man.
In all honesty, he was glad to be marrying Vivian for more than the obvious attraction between them. The Humphries family and the Torringtons got along marvelously, which would make his marriage an easy transition for everyone involved.
“Do you realize we are marrying sisters?” he asked William.
“Why would that be odd?” William responded. “We grew up together. It only makes sense that we are attracted to women who were raised by the same parents.”
“They are very different, however,” Alex said. “Clara is outgoing and vivacious, while Vivian is more reserved.”
“Do not make the mistake to think it makes her demure. She is a Humphries, after all.”
Alex chuckled. “I am well aware.”
When Lark’s Song came into view, the Humphries carriage was already there. Alex wondered what had happened inside. His aunt and uncle had probably already informed them of the new development.
“It may prove lucky that Mr. Humphries is here,” Alex remarked. “I may ask that he review the ledger with all the codes. Perhaps he will be able to decipher where my father was spending money.”
“That is a grand idea,” William said. “My eyes hurt from staring at them for all these days. I do not see how anyone would purposely want to do it for a living.”
“In that we agree,” Alex replied. “Now I must face my future parents-in-law and get the business of declaring my intentions over and done with.”
Although he was a bit nervous, in truth, he was glad for what was about to happen. The only missing piece was that his mother was not there.
“Did you notice there are two carriages?” William said, pointing to a second carriage near the stables. “Your mother is here.”
Chapter 10
Lady Claudia Yarnsby was not what Vivian had expected. Although older than her mother, she seemed younger, not so much in looks, but in the way she acted. Upon entering, she’d greeted everyone, then began bemoaning the social events she was missing. Instead of being concerned for Alexander’s welfare, she blamed him for ruining her holiday season.
“There are to be four balls just this week,” she told Vivian, who remained in the sitting room with her. Everyone else had made excuses and left. She’d not been so lucky, as just before walking out, Duchess Torrington had asked that she remain as tea was being brought. The duchess had then grabbed her mother’s hand and escaped.
“The good thing is that the upcoming spring season will be wonderful,” Vivian said, not
giving much care about it. As much as she enjoyed attending occasional affairs, her mother thankfully allowed them to they pick and choose which ones they went to.
Lady Yarnsby gave her a droll look. “I must speak to Alexander and see that he takes care of this threat nonsense immediately.” She looked to the doorway. “Should he not be back by now?”
“Yes, any moment,” Vivian said, praying it was true. It was taking all her willpower not to say something she’d regret.
“I am pleased he plans to marry.” Lady Yarnsby studied her. “Please convince him to take his title. Although I already address him as Lord Yarnsby when speaking of him in social circles. Everyone is aware he does not use it. Most irrational.”
“Are you aware that a man is dead because whoever poisoned the brandy thought it was him?”
“Of course, most dreadful situation. I am sure it was someone here whom Alexander has some sort of quarrel with. It should not impact my life in London.”
Vivian stood, unable to keep her tongue in check any longer. “He is your son. His life is in jeopardy, and all you can think about is your social agenda? I fear that I cannot remain in the room with you right now, madam.” She turned to walk out to see that Alexander stood in the doorway.
“I am glad you are to marry someone who truly cares for you, Alexander,” Lady Yarnsby said, not at all bothered by her outburst. “As for me, I have decided not to marry. I find that widowhood suits me much better.”
“If that is what you prefer, Mother.” Alexander met Vivian’s gaze. “Please stay.”
With measured movements, Alexander went to his mother and kissed her cheeks. He sat on the settee with Vivian.
“I apologize for the effect this unfortunate situation has had on you. Once I return to London and speak to the inspectors and visit the banks, and once those responsible are found and apprehended, you may return to your active social schedule.”
The woman looked to him without warmth. It was as if Vivian watched two mere acquaintances. Then again, most people would find the fact a man’s life was threatened distressful. How different this relationship was from his with the duchess.
“Well, I suppose it is only a week,” she replied, then brightened. “I hope there will be many guests tonight. Perhaps I will hold a holiday fête at Woodhall.”
“You can cohost with me for Twelfth Night,” Duchess Torrington said, walking in.
Lady Yarnsby wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps.”
Vivian and the duchess exchanged looks. “Claudia, we should adjourn to the parlor. Alexander is about to ask for Vivian’s hand. We will be celebrating.”
At the words, Lady Yarnsby stood. She looked around. “Where is Doxie?”
“Your little dog is in the parlor,” Duchess Torrington replied.
Lady Yarnsby took Alexander’s arm and practically dragged him out of the room.
Duchess Torrington shook her head. “You will not see her often. Claudia prefers superficial friends to a relationship with Alexander. Some women are like her; they cannot help the lack of maternal emotions.”
“I do not understand it, Duchess Torrington, I really do not.”
“Call me Theresa, please. You are about to marry a man I consider a son.”
Vivian nodded, unable to do so just yet. She still couldn't believe what was happening was real.
* * *
Vivian’s head swam from all the activities of the evening. Toasts and good cheer ended the evening with everyone celebrating the arrival of a New Year. She’d barely had an opportunity to speak to Alexander as all his time was monopolized by his rather indulged mother.
As horrible as it was to think about, she was glad that Lady Yarnsby would be keeping her distance. It was obvious everyone tolerated her for Alexander’s sake. The woman was insufferable. Just when Vivian thought to have found common ground upon learning Lady Yarnsby enjoyed helping the needy, the woman exclaimed on how taxing it was to send people out to do the work.
By the time everyone went to bed, Vivian was utterly exhausted.
She rolled to her side and looked at the door. Alexander slept just two doors down. It was possible to slip there unnoticed and have a word with him. They’d not had a chance to speak alone before he’d approached her father to ask for hand. Her wonderful, darling father, who’d asked her if she was in agreement before granting his blessing. Vivian had cried in that moment upon realizing that once she and Alexander married, she’d no longer have his company in the evenings.
Although his research of social matters was interesting, the depths to which her father delved were at times overwhelming. Despite being bored to tears, she did it because helping him sort through articles was time they spent alone together.
Slipping from the bed, Vivian pulled her robe on and tiptoed to the door. Once in the hallway, it would be impossible to hear anyone approaching as her heart hammered so hard, it echoed in her ears.
“Crumpets,” she hissed when her toe slammed into a table in the hallway. Thankfully, she was able to grab the vase atop it before it crashed to the ground.
Limping the next few steps, she arrived at Alexander’s door and lifted her hand to rap on it. Soft murmurs permeated through her heart’s hammering.
“Oh no.” Vivian opened Alexander’s door and ducked inside just as Clara’s voice became clearer.
Her sister and husband walked past, talking in hushed tones. If they were still up, then perhaps Alexander was too. “Goodness.” Vivian blinked, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Finally, she gave up.
“Alexander,” she whispered. “Are you in here?”
Her hip hit something, and she reached out to ensure she knock something over. “God’s foot, why is it so dark in here?”
“I like it dark,” Alexander replied. “Stay there before you alert the entire household. I’m surprised your crash in the corridor didn’t already.”
Vivian gasped. “You heard that?”
It sounded as if he got out of the bed, then his warm hands took her arms. “Come sit, I will light a—”
“No, don’t,” Vivian said. “I look a fright, and besides, it could alert someone.”
“You prefer to talk in the dark?” His words were tinged with amusement. “How about I part the curtains a bit?”
“Very well, but I’m coming with you. I don’t care for the dark.”
His arm rounded her waist, and she was grateful for the darkness as she was sure her cheeks were bright red.
Reaching out with her right hand, Vivian touched what she assumed was a bedpost and stopped. “I will wait right here.”
Moments later, soft moonlight gave just enough light to make him out. In only bottoms, he wore nothing from the waist up. Her eyes rounded; she’d not considered what he’d wear to bed.
“Why are you half undressed?”
He looked down as if realizing it for the first time. “Because I was too tired to find my night clothes and didn’t wish to bother searching. Most of my clothes are in a trunk there.” He motioned toward a dark corner.
“I see. Aren’t you cold?” Vivian couldn’t stop staring at him. He had a wide chest with just a smattering of hair across it. Her eyes glazed over as she trailed her gaze down the center of his chest to his flat stomach.
“The blankets kept me warm enough. I’d best find my robe,” Alexander said, his lips curving. “Else my bride-to-be may swoon.”
“I don’t swoon.”
“Do you feel weak in the knees?” he asked, moving closer. “Is your breathing becoming labored?”
Vivian swallowed and inhaled deeply, doing her best to keep from taking another breath. When he came even closer, she gave up. “It’s all the activity...coming here...in the dark.”
“I see.” He was so close, it would take so very little effort to touch him. Her hand lifted, but she caught the treacherous thing and ordered it back down to her side.
“Why did you come to my bedroom?” Alexander asked. “Curiosity?”
“Of course not.” Vivian managed to sound annoyed. “I wished to...speak.”
His lips hovered over hers. “No interest in kissing or touching me at all?” Alexander’s breath fanned over her face, making her eyelids fall.
Would it be foolish to allow herself this? He was to be her husband, after all. Every inch of her body urged her forward. To touch, feel, enjoy.
“We...er…I’d better go. I’d hoped to speak to you, but I see it is not possible.”
When his warm fingers trailed down the side of her face and cupped her jaw, Vivian knew she’d not leave.
“Are you curious to know how compatible we are physically?” Alexander asked. “I believe I know the answer.”
Her robe seemed to fall from her body to pool around her feet. Vivian was too enthralled in his caresses, the warmth of his mouth over hers, and the feel of his bare skin pressed her body.
Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around him, welcoming what was to come. Already it was so beautiful as feelings she’d never experienced before overwhelmed her senses.
“You are so beautiful,” Alexander said.
“As are you,” Vivian replied without hesitation.
He smiled down at her. “I am glad you think so.”
Alexander hurried to the bed and yanked the bedding from it, then placed it in front of the fireplace. He added a log to the waning flames, and the fire sprung to life.
It was as if she floated when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to lay on the floor, then joined her.
The room spun, her senses overcome by what was to happen. Was she really going to allow things to go this far? Her thoughts silenced when his body pressed against her. It was a feeling like no other. He was warm, hard, solid. The heat of his breath fanned over her face just before he pressed a kiss against the base of her throat.
A moan escaped when his hand slid up her leg, his fingers trailing lazily atop her skin as he licked wicked patters along her neck.
The Seduction of Mr. Yarnsby Page 9