To relearn her as a woman.
He felt it suddenly again, an irresistible pull of attraction for her. He hadn’t wanted it when they had married, for it had felt like a betrayal.
His distraction over his wife’s womanly shape ended as she turned back to him, having seized a large vase of freshly cut flowers from a nearby table covered in bric-a-brac. Why in the devil had she decided to fetch it in the midst of their discussion?
“I am expecting guests,” she hissed quietly, her eyes flashing with icy fire, “because I am hosting a house party. A house party you neither know about nor were invited to because you have spent the past year flitting about the world like a bachelor instead of a man with a wife.”
With that stinging admonition, she pulled back the vase and emptied it, water, flowers, and all, upon him.
Cold liquid splashed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, dripping over his shirtfront and progressing along his trousers to his booted feet. He stood there in a state of shock, too surprised to move. Too muttonheaded to have defended himself.
“And do not,” growled the girl whose braids he had once tugged, “ever again call meVivi dear.”
CHAPTER3
Court was home.
Vivi’s hands were shaking.
She could scarcely credit that the husband who had abandoned her and spent the last year traveling the world alone had returned. Fortunately, her dear friend Clementine had planned an early arrival at Sherborne Manor. On account of her unwanted visitor’s disturbing presence, Vivi had decided to journey to the train station herself to meet Clementine rather than merely sending the coachman as planned.
Anything to escape Court’s unsettling presence.
“You are overset,” her friend observed, frowning at her as the carriage took them from the bustle of the train station.
Vivi had blurted the dreadful news of the duke’s return to Lady Clementine the moment they had entered the private confines of the vehicle. As it was, she felt perilously close to tears.
She twisted her fingers in the fall of her silk skirts. “Of course I am. It is an unmitigated disaster.”
“I thought you had missed him,” her friend said quietly.
Shehadmissed him. Terribly. That was part of the problem. Court being gone for so long had been the most devastating blow Vivi had been dealt aside from losing Percy. In a way, his abandonment had been like a second death. He had broken her heart. Crushed it to infinitesimal little bits and then ground those bits into dust before flinging them to the wind whilst he sailed off to dally with light-skirts and forget her existence.
But she wouldn’t think about those terrible rumors now.
“It doesn’t signify whether I missed him,” she snapped, feeling peevish and raw, all her emotions churning uncontrollably within her. “I don’t want him here now. Not after everything that’s happened, and most especially not with the house party I have been planning so carefully about to begin in a fortnight. Only think of what Lady Featherstone will tell everyone.”
“Lady Featherstone is attending?” Clementine shuddered. “I hope Charity doesn’t know that. She is convinced the marchioness is responsible for the whispers surrounding her about the Venus portrait. She’ll likely invent an excuse not to attend and run off to the Continent.”
Lady Charity Manners was another dear friend in their treasured little coterie. While Court had been traveling about the world and with Percy gone, Vivi had been left with the comfort of her friends. And thank heavens for them all as she had never been particularly close to either of her parents.
She winced at the notion of upsetting Charity, momentarily distracted from thoughts of the husband she hadn’t expected to blow back into her life with all the turmoil of a thunderstorm. “Does she truly think Lady Featherstone is the one who started it all?”
The Marchioness of Featherstone was an acid-tongued viper who adored stirring scandal broth and was generally feared by everyone who knew her. Which was precisely why Vivi had intended to place her in the green bedchamber, which was in a far-flung wing of the manor house where she could not spy anyone engaging in the standard country house party antics. Namely, visiting bedrooms in which they did not belong.
“She said the rumors began after Lady Featherstone paid a visit to the Grosvenor Gallery,” Clementine said with a sigh. “I suppose one can never tell for certain in such matters. Gossip is so very nebulous. Whydidyou invite Lady Featherstone, dearest? Knowing you, there must have been a good reason.”
There had been a good reason. An excellent one, in fact.
“Because I wished to invite Lady Edith, and unfortunately, Lady Edith goes nowhere without her mother, despite the fact that she knows no one can abide the woman,” Vivi explained.
“Lady Edith,” Clementine repeated, her tone contemplative. “I do believe I’ve only chatted with her on a few occasions. A quiet young lady with great poise. Doesn’t speak much, but who can blame her with that dragon of a mama? Likely, Lady Featherstone shall breathe fire on her if she says anything the slightest bit untoward.”
Poor Lady Edith had indeed been saddled with an albatross. There was no denying it.
“All the more reason for her to seek like-minded friends. I thought that perhaps she might join our cause.”
“Become a part of the Lady’s Suffrage Society?” Clementine’s brows arched. “Lady Edith? I daresay Lady Featherstone would never allow it.”
