Chapter One
“How could this happen to me?” Lady Wilhelmina Willows, Countess of Brookes, clutched a hand to her chest and swayed dangerously on the spot.
Her daughter, Lady Vivian, was so intent on not mentioning thatshewas the injured party in this situation, not her mother, that she was frozen in place. She watched as her father, Bertrand Willows, the Earl of Brookes, hurried forward to catch his wife, holding her steady in his arms. He turned to look at Vivian, his brown eyes, so similar to hers, filled with disapproval.
“I expect more tact from you in the future, Vivian. You know how delicate your mother is.” Lord Brookes shook his head and led his wife to the chaise nearby.
“Given that I have no wish to experience my betrothed marrying another woman again, that should be more than accomplishable.” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them, anger breaking through her numb emotion.
Keep a hold of your temper.
She wrestled it under control, just as she had wrestled the relief she had felt at the news of her betrothed’s marriage away from her mind. Guilt flared within her at the thought.
It was not as though her fiancé, Benjamin Codswallow, Viscount of Brixten, had ever been unkind to her; simply that she did not relish the thought of being married to anyone. And in light of his behavior, she could not help but feel more than justified in her relief.
Though it was clear, her mother would not welcome such an observation, nor would her father.
Lord Brookes’ eyes flashed, and Vivian took a step backward. “Do you think such glibness is appropriate, daughter? With your mother in the state that she is in?”
Vivian swallowed and forced herself not to fidget. “I simply meant that I have no wish of ever being in this situation again.”
“And I had no wish to be in it in the first place.” Lady Brookes dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I knew we should not have allowed for such a long betrothal.”
“It made sense at the time, Wilhelmina. Lord Brixten had not yet inherited, and giving him time to settle into his title before he took on the responsibility of a wife was only logical.” Her father’svoice took on a soothing tone, deep and reassuring like a warm breeze on a cold winter’s day.
Vivian felt an ugly emotion stir within her and pushed it down hard. Her father treated his wife with kindness and compassion, consoling her as she endured her pain. Vivian just wished that comfort had been extended to her as well.
They are both shocked. They have known him longer than I have been alive, so of course, they are upset.
“And it gave you both more time to put together my dowry.” Vivian thought of the many times her mother had said the delays would mean she had a dowry worthy of a princess, but the darkening of her parents’ faces had made it clear it had been the wrong thing to say.
Why can I never get anything right?
“I mean… I know that given the circumstances of my birth and its unplanned nature, after all you were older than most other women, the additional time to prepare?—”
“As unexpected as your birth was, Vivian, I do not care for your implication. You make your father and me sound incompetent. No, worse than that, you make it sound as though we are paupers.” Lady Brookes shuddered and closed her eyes, fanning herself with a hand as though no thought could be more upsetting to her. “I may have been two score years when I birthed you, but the advantage of such advanced years was thatyour father and I had had more than enough time to shore up our finances.”
“I did not mean to imply that you had not; I just know that you had not planned for a daughter and?—”
“No one plans for a daughter! Why would they? A daughter cannot carry on her father’s line. A son is needed for security; a daughter is for marrying, for building strong ties and connections. Yet she is less useful than a son.”
Vivian could not help wincing at her mother’s words. She knew that she was not the child they wanted, and though she had tried not to be a burden to them, she was keenly aware that as a woman she would not carry on her father’s name.
Her mother let out a sigh. “Yet still, we have taken steps to ensure you are provided for. You have wanted for nothing, Vivian. How dare you imply that we have done anything less?”
“That was not what I meant. I was trying to alleviate some of the guilt you felt during the betrothal period.” Vivian looked at her father, hoping he might understand.
Why can I never get my point across? What is wrong with me? I cannot even console my own mother.
“The match between Lord Brixten and me was arranged at my birth. And there could be no question of us marrying before Iwas of age, and what harm would there be in waiting until he had had the five years to settle into his station?”
“What harm indeed? Just the shame of a spinster for a daughter who has not even entered society! You are four and twenty, Vivian.” Her mother shook her head.
It was not my choice not to be out–you are the ones who felt it unnecessary, as I already had a match.
Vivian bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, desperate to keep her thoughts from escaping. Her parents had seen little point in introducing her to society, not when she was already engaged. More to the point, they had feared that she might be lured away from her betrothal by a silver-tongued rake.
The irony of the situation was not lost on Vivian, but even as she thought of it, panic filled her.
