That would give me time to prepare after the madness of last night.Vivian tapped a finger against her lips. “I have no idea how the press got a hold of this—Lord Elington wanted to speak to Father before announcing it publicly. After all, that is the proper thing to do.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed, and Vivian could tell she still did not believe her. She could not blame her, after all; it seemed just as far-fetched to her.
At that moment, Vivian’s lady’s maid, Henrietta, rushed into the room. Her face was red, and she was panting and clutching her side.
“The Marquess of Elington has just sent word that he will be calling upon us within the hour.” Henrietta blurted. “To discuss wedding arrangements and seek his lordship’s consent.”
“Then it is true!” Her mother clasped a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness.”
The relief on her mother’s face was at odds with the wild panic that filled Vivian’s chest. Her heart raced wildly, her blood pounded in her ears. Her future husband would be arriving within the hour, and she had only just woken up.
“Perhaps we can delay him?” Vivian ventured. “It is a rather early time to?—”
“Do not be ridiculous. We must capitalize on this!” Her mother gestured to Henrietta. “Get the green dress—no, not that one—the one with the short sleeves. And gloves, she can then remove them, which will draw his attention.”
“What?” Vivian gaped. “But the bodice?—”
“Is low enough to be enticing but not so low as to seem tawdry.” Her mother interrupted before Vivian could finish. “I have heard rumors about the Marquess and his family, and if they are to be believed, we have precious little time.”
“You cannot really believe that he is cursed?” Vivian gaped at her mother.
“His grandfather and his father both died young. Perfectly healthy men who dropped dead unexpectedly.” Her mother waved her hand in the air for emphasis. “Even if it is not a curse, there is every chance he will suffer the same fate. You must wed and sire an heir as quickly as possible.”
“Sire an heir?” Vivian squeaked, sure she must have misheard.
She could feel even her ears reddening with embarrassment.
Her mother arched an eyebrow at her. “Yes. If you wish to bind him to you, you must give him an heir. In such situations, it is best to try to give him more than one child, but with his curse, that may not be possible. An heir will mean you will be the Dowager Marchioness and have the right to remain at your estate.”
Henrietta nodded, brushing Vivian’s hair and pulling it into an elaborate bun. “Your mother is right, my lady. Men’s interest fades as women age, but children will secure your future and keep the marriage alive.”
“I have heard rumors of men leaving their wives for a mistress simply because she could provide what the wife could not.” Her mother shook her head. “And from what I have heard of the Marquess, he is a man whose interest is not easily held.”
“He is wealthy, Lady Vivian. He is used to things being easy for him, so you must ensure that he is given a challenge,” Henrietta added as Vivian’s mother nodded her agreement.
“But not too much of a challenge—he must believe he can overcome any obstacle you set him,” her mother added. “For him to desire you, you must seem desirable. But not attainable.”
“What? How am I supposed to do that?” Vivian felt as though her head might explode. “And what does this have to do with siring an heir?”
“Everything!” her mother chided.
Vivian had asked countless governesses about the siring of heirs and how one went about it, but all of them had refused to give her a straight answer.
She had tried to find books on the matter, but her efforts had been fruitless. Either the books were deemed too tawdry for her, or they were so vague that they were little more than a reference to wifely duties without directly naming how one might fulfill them.
She clenched and unclenched her fingers, fighting the urge to fling herself back into bed and hide beneath the covers.
“It is about…” Henrietta swallowed and looked between her mother and Vivian. “You must encourage his familiarity with you, my lady.”
“I do not understand.”
“A kiss, Vivian. That is essential for this to work.” Her mother snapped, and Vivian wished that she could vanish into the floor. “If you can get him to kiss you, that will be for the best.”
Henrietta added, her own cheeks a deep shade of scarlet. “Men like him appreciate such boldness.”
“You have to make him want you.” Her mother gave her a meaningful look. “To make him think he cannot have you.”
“But you just said I should kiss him?” Vivian’s voice was high-pitched, and she wrestled it back under control. “I have to make him want me, but think he cannot have me?”
