Foxing the Geese

by Janet Woods

  A beam of sunshine shifted and danced around the room, reaching into every corner in turn. Every tired thread on the chairs, every scratch on the furniture and every dust mote dancing in the air were familiar to Vivienne. She had played with her two sisters on the worn rug as a child, keeping them occupied so as not to annoy Grandmother Fox who used to recline on the same chaise Vivienne rested on now.

  Closing her eyes, she listened to the familiar hum of silence and separated the sounds. The drone of bees was close, busy at their work of collecting the pollen for honey. There was a faint bleat or two from the sheep munching on summer grass and the cluck of chickens. A fitful breeze rattled the leaves now and again. Horses clopped by … two perhaps, unhurried, as befitted such a fine, warm day.

  Vivienne’s mind drifted off, back to London. She felt frail. All the confidence her legacy had brought with it had deserted her. She wished she’d never heard of it … wished she’d never fallen in love. It would be another disappointment to take with her into old age.

  A knock came at the door. It was Maria. ‘I’ve brought you some tea and muffins, Miss Fox.’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  Maria busied herself pouring tea into the cup and scolded, ‘You haven’t eaten anything since we arrived here.’

  Tears filled Vivienne’s eyes. ‘I keep thinking of what might have happened to us. We could have been killed. How is your head feeling now?’

  ‘I’ve had worse cracks. My pa used to call me a bonehead, and he set out to prove it.’

  ‘Poor you?’

  Maria shrugged. ‘We left him when I was fifteen. My mother became a housekeeper to the exclusive couturier, Madam Parisian. Madam taught me how to be a maid. She entertained many lovers before she died.’

  ‘We should not talk of such matters.’

  ‘Sorry, Miss Fox.’

  Spinster she might be, but Vivienne was old enough to know the facts of life, even though she hadn’t experienced them. She reacted to the suggestion of pandering to a man’s appetite with a tremor that spread desire racing through her body like a tidal wave of warm honey. Alex had threatened to put her over his knee, which she’d regarded as teasing. But what if he hadn’t been teasing? What if he treated a woman in the same bullying manner as Simon Mortimer?

  She gave a whimper that sounded pathetic even to her own ears. Simon had been strong, and he’d been rough, and it was only by luck and by Freddie’s intervention that she’d escaped from his clutches. She must remember to thank Freddie. As for Alex, he was a gentleman. Of course he’d been teasing.

  ‘Please remember my father is a clergyman. He brought me up to meet certain standards of behaviour. I know he’d be shocked to learn of your former employer’s way of entertaining herself, so please don’t tell anyone. He taught me, and endowed me with the skills to become a governess if I needed to. I won’t need to now I have the legacy, but still, I’d like to do something useful and worthwhile. I doubt I’ll be a wife now, since Simon’s actions would have placed a stain on my character.’

  ‘Goodness, Miss Fox, with that legacy at your disposal you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a suitable husband. I don’t know why you’ve been keeping it to yourself. As for stains on characters, money has a way of making the worst of them disappear. You should face these gossips who seek to bring you down … pretend you don’t care.’

  Maria was talking about her aunt and cousin. Was it too hard for people to understand that she needed to marry for love? ‘But I do care, Maria … I care very much. They’re my relatives.’

  ‘Well all I can say to that, and I hope you will forgive me, is they’ve been getting the best of that particular bargain. Now, don’t forget to eat those muffins, Miss. I’ll be in the laundry room if you need me.’ The door closed behind her.

  Vivienne ate a muffin without thinking … then she picked up the second and took a bite from it. There were voices in the hall. One belonged to her father.

  ‘Wait in the drawing room, would you, My Lord. I’ll go upstairs and ask Vivienne if she will receive you.’

  My Lord?

  ‘Thank you, Reverend.’

  Alex’s voice!

  She dropped the muffin back on the plate and scrambled behind a lacquered screen decorated with inlaid mother-of-pearl flowers. The cat shot out through the open windows with a yowl when the door opened to admit a stranger.

  Vivienne sat in the dusty corner of the drawing room with her arms grasped around her knees, making herself as small as possible. Her heart began an erratic thump that seemed loud enough for half the village to hear.

  There was a moment of quiet when she imagined him looking around the room and taking his bearings. Then there were footsteps. He seated himself on the chaise. If she lowered her head to one side she would be able to see the heels of his hessians in the gap under the screen.

  ‘Ah … a muffin, though it looks as though a mouse has been at it … and some tea. It’s been a long time since breakfast.’

  There was a slurping sound and she had a job holding on to her laughter, for it was obvious he knew she was there.

  There came the clink of a cup against a saucer. ‘Hmmm … there’s a pair of empty shoes on the rug … come out from behind that screen, Vivienne Fox.’

  ‘Go away, Alex … I don’t want you to see me,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You know why not.’

  ‘That’s not a good enough answer. I came all this way to see you, and see you I will, even if I have to dig you out of that corner with a shovel. You’ll have to come out eventually … you might as well put in an appearance sooner than later.’

  ‘It will be later then. You can’t stay there all night, my father would have you forcibly removed by … well … by God himself if necessary.’

  ‘I can’t argue with God, but the reverend has given me permission to use all reasonable means to jerk you out of your self-pity.’ The exasperated sigh he gave was genuine. ‘Let’s put an end to this play-acting, Vivienne.’

  She pushed the flimsy screen aside and stood, stung beyond measure, though aware he was goading her merely to get his own way. ‘Does this look like play-acting to you!’

  ‘No, it doesn’t, my love.’

  She couldn’t bear to see the expression of pity on his face, or hear the tenderness in his voice. Her hands flew to cover the injuries. ‘I’m so ashamed.’

  ‘You have nothing to be ashamed of.’ Gently he pulled her hands away and he led her to the chaise, his eyes a stormy blue. ‘Did he inflict any other injuries or indignities on you?’

  She knew what he was asking and tried not to blush. What if Simon had forced himself on her, would it matter to him, would the friendship he so generously offered be killed by disgust? She was not going to risk it by putting it to the test. ‘There are some bruises on my body and I ache, but it’s nothing serious.’

  He folded her into his arms. ‘I’d like to kill Simon Mortimer.’

  ‘No … you mustn’t kill anyone, Alex … how did you know what had happened, and that it was Simon?’

  ‘When I called to escort you to the afternoon dance, your aunt said you’d received a message from your father and had left for Maidstone. Then Sophia Mortimer arrived and said Simon wouldn’t come in because his face was scratched. Freddie looked so uneasy that I put two and two together. I gave him a gentle shake and he confessed all. He was worried I might crush his cravat.’

  She managed a grin, imagining just how gentle Alex had been, especially since he’d grown up with a brother! ‘Freddie did try to stop Simon Mortimer. How did my aunt take it?’

  ‘I didn’t wait to find out. She and your cousin were complaining about domestic matters, and were peeved that they’d lost the maid. I left Freddie to explain and also left a message for his friend to leave town. After that I immediately hired a horse. I slept at the inn last night.’

  ‘Why did you come?’

  One eyebrow rose. ‘Do you need to ask? I thought you migh
t need me.’ His mouth tightened as his scrutiny touched on her blackened eyes, then her swollen mouth.

  ‘Please don’t look at me like that, Alex,’ she pleaded.

  His gaze narrowed in on her. ‘I was wondering if there was a space to place a comforting kiss on. It might help in the healing process.’

  She offered him her hand and he kissed each fingertip. ‘Would you marry me?’ he murmured.

  The breath seemed to be squeezed from her body. ‘Is that a question or a proposal? Or is it simply that you feel sorry for me.’

  ‘I don’t know. Marriage is marriage however it’s delivered.’

  ‘You said you wanted a lady who is fair of face, and who can bring a fortune into the family.’

  ‘Your face is fair enough for me … or it will be when it’s healed. I’ve been working it out. I could sell the estate and buy a smaller one. I’ve discussed it with your father. He agrees it might be a solution; but he cautioned me not to be too hasty. And although it won’t rid you of your problem – Miss Fox being the current topic of interest in the capital – it will change the nature of the gossip.’

  So, he’d talked to her father, had he? She felt herself deflate and scooped up a deep breath to nourish her anger with. ‘For no reason at all you have decided to be a self-sacrificing hero and salvage my reputation by becoming my husband. The trouble is, My Lord, the rumour mill will already have it by the throat by now, and they’ll be tossing my problem around like a dog with a bone. Hah!’ She picked up a cushion and threw it at him. ‘No … I will not marry you for that reason.’

  He fended it off easily. ‘Vivienne, do calm down.’

  Anger renewed her need to make Simon Mortimer pay for what he’d done to her. ‘I am calm! How dare you come into my home with such an insulting suggestion? I’d like to remind you that I was the victim, and Simon Mortimer the criminal. And he needn’t think he’s going to get away with it. As soon as I recover my strength I intend to go back to London and swear a complaint out against him.’

  ‘Which he will instantly deny.’

  ‘But I have Maria as a witness. You forget she was attacked too.’

  ‘And he has Freddie. Whose word will the magistrate believe, that of a lawyer with a titled gentleman as an eyewitness, or that of a lady’s maid. Mortimer will then say he offered to marry you – which he probably will, if just to prove to everyone how sincere he is.’

  ‘If he does, I’ll take a horsewhip to him.’

  ‘Talk sense, Vivienne.’

  ‘Very well, My Lord. Make sense of this, it shouldn’t be too taxing. Go away. Goodbye.’

  ‘That’s too final a word, my love.’ As she moved to stand he took her by the wrist and kept her there. ‘Wait! I have your brooch. I found it in the long grass by the church wall.’ He leaned forward and pinned it to her bodice. His long fingers briefly caressed the hollow of her collarbone.

  ‘Thank you, Alex, you may release my wrist now.’

  He didn’t. He leaned in a little further and then nipped the lobe of her ear. His breath sent quivering little echoes through her body, so each individual hair on her head seemed to prickle and dance, and she curled her toes into the rug like a bird in a thunderstorm holding tight to a branch.

  When the brooch was secure his gaze moved upwards, so they were looking into each other’s eyes. On an outgoing breath he said one word – so tender and pleading that it vibrated inside her ear like the stroke of a velvet brush, and was almost a plea. ‘Vivienne.’

  A sigh left her mouth. If she stayed he would win her round, make love to her with pretty gestures. She wanted to stay angry with him. It energized her. She was tempted to slap him, so she tore her eyes away from his, stood, and headed for the door before she found a reason to do so.

  ‘The proposal still stands. When you recover from your anger and begin to reason things out and trust to your instincts instead of your emotions, you will come to the conclusion that marriage between us was inevitable from the first moment we met.’

  He was the earl of calm, and she felt like a tempest of contradictions. A soft but heartfelt scream left her mouth like a spout of steam. There was nothing wrong with her emotions. They were first class. She could love intensely and hate with equal passion – and all at the same time where the earl was concerned. He was infuriatingly practical and impossibly irresistible! When she was with him she felt as though her body had woken from a long slumber and had become powerfully vibrant.

  Too vibrant, since he’d put her in a tangle! Dissolving into sobs, she closed the drawing room door behind her with a quiet but definite thud.

  Her father was about to come down the stairs as she rushed up them. They met in the middle. ‘Ah, Vivienne, I was just looking for you. Did you see the earl? He came down from London especially to see you and it would be rude not to receive him.’

  ‘I’ve already seen him, he gave me no choice,’ she snuffled. ‘You’re wearing your innocent look, Pa, but you don’t fool me. You manipulated Lord LéSayres into proposing marriage to me, didn’t you? How could you?’

  ‘Quite easily, since I could see he wanted to be manipulated … did you accept?’

  ‘Certainly not! You didn’t tell him about my fortune, did you?’

  ‘No … but you’ve got to admit that this legacy of yours has caused many problems so far. It must be the worst kept secret of the season, since everyone seems to know about it except for the earl.’

  ‘Nobody can agree over how much I’m worth though, since I put it about that it was a trifling sum.’

  ‘Well yes, that might confuse the issue. I’m sure John Howard will be discreet, and he will know the best legal minds and investment counsellors to consult with.’

  ‘He is the earl’s neighbour.’

  ‘All the better then … it’s a match made in heaven.’

  ‘Except the earl doesn’t have a halo or wings … and unless you didn’t hear me before, my esteemed papa, I have refused his proposal.’

  ‘Men expect refusals. They realize that women can be unpredictable and are prone to changing their minds. Men are prideful creatures though, so if you want this one – and I admit he seems to genuinely care for you – do not toy with his affections. You need to consider your options since he might think you’re not interested and find someone else. Did I tell you that your mother turned me down twice before she agreed to wed me? We were happy together in the short time God allowed us to be together.’

  He sounded so sad that she placed a comforting hand over his. ‘That was a long time ago, Papa.’

  ‘You never forget the people you loved the most, or the opportunities you failed to act on and lost. I was lucky in that your mother gave me a wonderful daughter as a consolation. You will see the sense of such a marriage when you recover your health.’

  ‘Ah … so that’s it. You’re attempting to change my mind by bringing my mother in to the conversation.’

  He laughed. ‘It was worth the trying. By the way, the earl will be our guest for the night before he returns to London in the morning, so could you ask the housekeeper to prepare the best guest room. He’s promised me a game of chess.’

  She fought off her sudden plunge into dismay. ‘The earl is going back to London so soon?’

  ‘He has paid his respects to me and expressed his sympathy to you. Now he has business to discuss and engagements to keep before he returns to Dorset.’

  Jealousy stabbed her in the heart when she remembered that the sole purpose he was in London was to find a wealthy wife. As her father had just reminded her of that fact, she would have very few options left open to her once the rumour mill had spat her out.

  Simon Mortimer for a husband was the first one … ugh! So much for the true love she’d always imagined would come her way. She could kill herself, but why should she when she was blameless? She should kill Simon Mortimer instead … a much better proposition.

  Men are fickle …

  Not all of them, but some are.

&nb
sp; What if your handsome lord finds somebody he likes better, or worse still, falls in love with another?

  Alarm speared through her. It would be her fault if that happened.

  ‘Papa?’ she said when he reached the bottom staircase.

  He turned, ‘Yes, my dear?’

  ‘Why do women have to cater to a man’s pride? It seems rather a one-sided arrangement to me.’

  He spluttered a bit, and then said, ‘Perhaps because you’re a woman and think like a woman. I will need to cogitate a little on the subject. We can discuss it tomorrow, when perhaps I can find a suitable proverb and have an answer for you. I don’t want to keep our guest waiting.’

  She hadn’t wanted a paragraph written by a long dead stranger, and plucked conveniently from the page of a bible to fit into the present. She had wanted the originality of her father’s thoughts on the subject. Then she considered: he often consulted the bible, so would he have an original thought?

  ‘Must you consult the bible, can’t we just have a conversation, like we used to?’

  There was a flicker of anguish in his eyes. ‘I was raised on the teachings of the good book and I live by its wisdoms. I know no other way. My dear, you are seeing me through adult eyes now, and that includes all my failings. If you must see through me, could you at least keep it to yourself?’

  She felt a little crack open between them, as if he was growing away from her. She appeared less worthy in her own eyes because of it. If she never married, and if she bought her own little cottage and stayed in this village looking after her father, she might find contentment of a sort, but it would be limited. She would never grow or have children of her own to love, and would be poor old Aunt Vivienne right up to the end.

  One day someone would stop to look at her grave and say, I wonder who Vivienne Fox, spinster of this parish was?