by Sarita Leone
Even the boy had stopped struggling. He watched intently, his gaze going from one to the other of them. She managed a small smile at him, and a nod, and hoped he might see she would do all she could to help him—despite the maligning of her character.
Keep your chin up, child. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head. For as long as she could recall, every time Vivian had stumbled or felt sad, her mother had implored her to keep her chin high and move forward. They were words to live by, so she straightened her spine and took a deep, steadying breath.
She chose to ignore Oliver’s implication. Giving him any response could only demean her further, and she was far too worn out to trade barbs with him. All the joy she had felt just a short time ago had vanished, a wisp swept off on a stiff summer breeze.
“He is only a child,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I cannot imagine that a climbing boy might pose such an enormous threat to as wealthy a family as yours but I do suspect that one shaken—and possibly wounded—little boy would bring scandal to Willowbrook. Your parents would hate that, I am sure, so I advise you to let the boy go. You are hurting him, I am sure.”
She waited until Oliver’s grip loosened and Eddie wrenched his arm out of its bondage. When the child took a step back, she did the same.
The thought that they all stared at her brought her nearly to tears—but she would not allow herself to cry in front of these people. They were horrid, the whole lot of them, and deserved no further display at her expense. She could think of nothing but escape, and would have run had she not known it would make her look as guilty as the young horse thief.
Oh yes, she knew in her heart that, for whatever reason, little Eddie was stealing the gray mare. And while she knew, she did not care. Not about the horse, or about anyone present. They would have to sort themselves out. All Vivian wanted was to go home to Stropshire as quickly as possible.
Turning on her heel, Vivian began to walk down the lane. Fortunately they were only a half-mile or so from the manor, so the trek would not be arduous. From behind her, Lucie’s voice called her back but she did not turn. Walking, with its steady beat and mindlessness, was as much as she could handle, so it was all she did. She put one foot in front of the other and hoped she did not stumble. Having to be rescued from the lane by any of them would certainly be more than she could bear.
Keep my chin up. Keep my chin up, and find my way home.
****
“You know we are sorry—all of us, for everything. Mother says she spent most of last night trying to convince you to stay. Oh, Vivian, don’t you see? We did not mean any harm!”
Lucie’s hands clasped over her heart, and her tone was so distressed that had she not been so determined to leave without shedding any more tears she would have given in and stopped packing. It was true; Lady Gregory had stood almost precisely where her daughter stood now, in the room that once was Lucie’s and had explained, time and again, just how awfully sorry they all were for the misunderstanding.
Eddie and his father, who had gone into the cottage after finding a window blown in, the victim of a falling branch, had confessed to the minor thefts that had taken place at the estate. They had returned the horse after the first theft, feeling the burden of their actions, but had little choice but to steal her again when their situation grew direr.
Unfortunately their reduced circumstances had come at nearly the same moment of Vivian’s arrival, and had made her seem the only suspect in the “rash” of wrongdoings. They had explained that they used the horse to go to the doctor for medicine for Eddie’s mother, and that they had “borrowed” blankets from the cottage to keep her warm. Even the missing pail of milk from the barn and a half-bushel of beans had been pilfered by the pair with the hope of letting an ailing woman regain some strength.
Eddie and his family were now comfortably ensconced in one of the apartments in the servants’ wing. Both the boy and his father had been offered employment on the estate, something that would be offered to the child’s mother when she was able to work again. The men were slated to begin their jobs by helping with the upcoming fox hunt, something Eddie, when he had come to apologize to Vivian, had been very excited about.
Everyone had apologized, but Vivian did not care. Lord and Lady Gregory and Lucie were upset by her insistence on leaving but they would get over it eventually. Oliver had practically torn his hair out, he was so distraught at his jumping to the wrong—and, he insisted, most grievous—conclusions. He had spoken without thinking, in the heat of the moment and was, she knew, truly contrite.
Still, she was set on leaving. It was the only way to regain some of her old life—and untangle the roiling emotions threatening to burst from her.
She shook her head. “It does not matter. I see that no one meant any harm, but the fact is that harm has been done. I need to go home. I do not belong here.”
“But we are family—”
“This isn’t my world. I-I-oh, I just cannot stay.”
A tear slid down Lucie’s cheek. “If you insist.”
“I do. I am sorry, but I have to leave.”
****
Vivian arrived in disgrace, in a wretched carriage reeking of body odor, garlic and stale smoke.
The Gregorys insisted on sending her back to Stropshire in one of their carriages, and would not hear of her refusing them. Vivian ran a hand along the sleek leather seat beside her, inhaled the sweet scent of lavender from the sachets swinging beside the open windows and shook her head.
She was departing in style, so why did she feel so wretched?
She sat back against the seat, sighing heavily. What had started out as a lark had turned into a nightmare. The sting of yesterday’s confrontation, the knowledge that despite her best efforts Oliver had thought her capable of thievery, sent a profound wave of sadness washing over her. She could barely breathe.
That is not the worst of it, she thought, hitching a breath. Now that she was alone, and would be for many miles, gave her leave to let down her guard. A sniff, and then a shimmer of wetness on her eyes matched the lump forming in her throat.
They did not know me. They did not trust me. They did not—
A male voice reached her through the open windows. “Stop. I say, stop the carriage this very instant!”
The carriage wheels slowed. Then, they stopped turning.
“That’s right—stop the carriage!” The voice was familiar but before she could even sit up and look toward the sound, one of the doors swung open and Will climbed inside.
His hair stood up in waves and dust covered his breeches, shoes and the white shirt he wore unbuttoned at the neck. Always before he had appeared so starched and proper. Now it was a shock to see him in such dishabille.
“You cannot leave.”
He smelled of horse when he slid onto the seat beside her. His thigh brushed hers, pushing her back into the corner against the wall of the carriage. Will filled the space beside her so fully that Vivian felt breathless, her pulse tripping and her thoughts jumbled.
She said the first thing that came to mind.
“Get out! Will, you must get out of here this instant!”
“I refuse. You cannot leave—I will not allow it.” A grin crossed his face. “You called me by my Christian name—I heard you so do not try to deny it.”
She ignored him. The slip, using his name so carelessly, had tumbled from her lips. It was a minor infraction considering the wrongs they had all done her so recently.
“Get out, I said.” He was not the only one who could be insistent. She lifted her chin, stared him in the eyes and repeated herself for a third time. “Get out—now!”
He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill up her spine despite her reluctance to be in any way affected by his presence.
“God, you are beautiful when you are angry. Although I do not intend to infuriate you more than I can help, Vivian. I promise, I shall try my best to keep from behaving so badly in the future.”
&nbs
p; She stared into his eyes, confused by not only his appearance but by the senseless conversation.
“What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?” When he placed a hand over hers where it lay in her lap, she pushed his aside. He did not pull his hand away. It stayed on her skirt over her knee as if it had nowhere else to go.
Had he really taken leave of his senses?
Using a gentler tone of voice, hoping to encourage him to get out of the carriage, she asked, “Truly, are you all right? I mean, have you fallen on your head or hurt yourself in some way?”
A lazy thumb slid across the brown fabric she wore. The traveling dress was new but it was not fancy, and the rasp of his skin over the stiff material made a strange sound.
“I hurt us both, I am afraid. I should have spoken up yesterday when Oliver accused you of being something you are not—someone I know you could never be. I did not, and it is something I will regret forever.” An exasperated huff punctuated the words. When he looked into her eyes, she saw how deeply he regretted what had happened.
It does not change things, she thought sadly. He may be sorry, but I still must leave.
“It is fine.” It was the first forgiveness that had come without thought, and was genuine. “Do not condemn yourself over what has happened. What else could you think? Honestly, you do not know me well enough to see the real me.”
“Wrong! You are wrong—as wrong as I was, almost. Why, I have seen the ‘real you’ from the very moment I first gazed at you. I have seen you, and been in love with you, almost from the minute you arrived. I could not believe my misfortune; you are just what I dreamed of my whole life and there you were, looking to make a match with my closest friend. I wanted to scream, but I did nothing. I watched you every day, and kept quiet when I should have spoken. I should have told you how I feel, even before I realized you and Oliver have no attachments. I will hate myself forever for not standing up for you yesterday—I was just so shocked by the rapid turn of events, and could hardly think, let alone speak!”
That was exactly how she had felt, so she understood completely.
“But I will not keep quiet now.” He grabbed her hand and held it firmly between both of his. “I know my cottage is humble, but my situation is a secure one and I promise I will always look after you. I would like it if your family moved to Town so we could see them often. And, lest you think I have really and truly lost my mind, I want you to know I have been awake all night thinking of this very moment. I did not expect you would leave so early, or I would have been waiting by the front door to bar your departure.”
She could not stand the suspense. Her head reeled, her heart thudded and her palms were suddenly clammy. Was it possible he felt the same way she did? Was it too much to ask, too high a dream?
“Will—stop it, you are confusing me with all you are saying. I do not understand—”
He took a deep breath, and the muscles flexed beneath his perspiration-soaked shirt. The sight made her heart skip a beat, but she did not have time to linger on his strong physique.
“I love you, Vivian. I have for weeks now. Will you forgive my behavior and consider my feelings for you?” He held her captive with his velvety brown gaze. “Will you marry me? Please, say yes.”
Hurt feelings and misunderstandings aside, there was no denying her heart.
Vivian could hardly breathe, her chest was so tight. She nodded, and then smiled.
“I am also guilty of not speaking when I should, of not telling the truth when it is the only thing I can think of. I have loved you all this time. All this time, and yet I’ve been silent.”
“Are you saying what I think you are?” He pulled her close, his mouth inches from hers. When she nodded, he claimed her lips with his in a kiss that was both tender and enthusiastic. Will pulled back. “Say it, Vivian. Say you will become my wife.”
“I will…I will marry you and love every moment of being your wife.”
“Thank God I have finally found my voice,” he muttered hoarsely as he kissed her again.
And thank goodness I am here to hear it, my love…
A word about the author...
Sarita Leone loves adventure, whether it be in a distant continent or her own backyard. When she’s not off exploring the world, she keeps busy writing, reading, and dancing beneath the stars. Always a fan of happy endings, she’s fortunate to have a job which allows for so many of those!
She loves to hear from readers. Easiest way to connect? Check out her Facebook page, where all the latest news hits the screen.
Thank you for purchasing
this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.