“I do not believe so.” Greta’s brow furrowed.
Vivian nodded to herself, drawing her dressing gown more tightly around her. “Please have the cook prepare a plate for him, and I will bring it to his lordship myself once I am dressed.”
“There is no need for that, my lady. I am sure one of the servants would be more than happy—” Greta began, her eyes widening.
“I know you would.” Vivian interrupted, giving the maid what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “It is a silly superstition my family has. A wife brings her husband breakfast to bring good luck and prosperity. And after all, the Marquess is working so hard, I want him to know that I will support him.”
Greta nodded solemnly, and Vivian managed to hide her relief that her lie had worked. “I will see that it is done, my lady.”
“I meant to mention it to Mrs. Bird on my tour yesterday, but in the excitement I completely forgot.” Vivian did not have to feign her look of embarrassment as she leaned toward Greta. “It was, well, a little more overwhelming than I anticipated. I just want to do a good job as your Marchioness.”
“Of course, my lady.” Greta curtseyed. “I am sure you will. I will let Cook and Mrs. Bird know, and then return to clean his lordship’s room?”
“That would be perfect. Thank you.” Vivian waited until Greta had left the room before climbing out of bed and making her way back to her own.
One way or another, she was going to get some time with her husband. “He may not need sleep, but no man can resist a good breakfast.”
She hoped she was right.
Chapter Ten
“Ihave your breakfast.” Vivian nodded toward the laden silver tray in her hands.
Thomas blinked and shook his head. He was sitting at the desk in his study, where he had spent most of the night. Sunlight streamed through the window, warming the dark mahogany around them.
Vivian wore a simple, low-cut blue muslin dress with a delicate silver chain that drew his eye to the nape of her neck. The image of her in his bed from the night before sprang to his mind, and he forced it away.
I suppose I should be grateful that she has not come to me with only that.
He kept his face neutral as he gestured toward the tray in his wife’s hands. “That is not usually the sort of thing a marchioness would do.”
“I know.” Vivian hesitated and then took a step toward him, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “But the servants are busy, and I have always hated breakfasting alone, so I thought I would kill two birds with one stone.”
“How considerate of you. Unfortunately, I would be rather poor company. I have a lot of work to tend to.” He motioned to the papers scattered around him.
“Clearly, given that you have been at it all night.” She bit her lip. “Or at least I hope that is what kept you from your own bedchambers.”
“What else would it be?” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Another woman, perhaps?” Her voice shook, even as he saw her smile broaden.
“I would not dishonor you like that.” His voice was firm. “I swear.”
Vivian nodded and opened her mouth as though she were about to ask a question. His heart beat faster, wondering if she would ask what kept him from his own bed.
If this is going to work, we must be honest with one another.
He had walked into his chambers late the night before, only to find Vivian curled up on top of his bed. The fire had dwindlednearly to nothing, but the moonlight streaming through his window was enough for him to see exactly what she was wearing.
His heart quickened at the thought, his fingers flexing as he remembered lifting her gently into his arms and the way she had curled against him. He had tucked her into the bed, listening as she mumbled sleepily, her eyes briefly fluttering open.
She seemed so small and fragile, and as he had sat down on the bed beside her, he had felt a pull toward her, wanting to protect her from the world. Vivian seemed determined to test his resolve, and somehow, despite her innocence, she seemed to succeed.
Far, far too dangerous for her own good.
“That is good to hear.” Vivian set the tray on his desk, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know you have work to do, but you do need to eat. And well, you said we could be friends.”
“I suppose that is true.” Thomas nodded and watched as she poured coffee.
