Page 62 of Lady Beresford's Lover
Rupert picked up the package. “I’ll explain on the way.”
Not many minutes later, he stood, waiting impatiently at the entrance to Mount Street Gardens, when he spied his tiger and the maid he had met the night before coming from the park. Lady Telford’s house must have a gate leading out to the garden.
“This here is Lord Stanstead,” Stuie said by way of an introduction.
“Thank you, Stuie.” Rupert had taken one glance at the maid’s stern countenance and decided he did not need an audience. “I won’t be long, and I’ll need the carriage when I return.”
The boy all but bounced, but bowed instead. “I’ll see right to it, my lord.”
In a matter of moments, the lad was a blue streak running home. Rupert inclined his head. “Miss . . .”
“Punt.” The woman’s tone, if not hostile, left no doubt she wasn’t pleased.
“Let me first say that I wish to wed your mistress.”
Vivian buried her nose in the bouquet of delphiniums and clematis that had been delivered to her. Without even glancing at the card, she knew they were from Rupert. How lovely to think of him and call him by his Christian name. She tried to imagine what she would say to him if they ran into each other, and couldn’t think of a thing.
Last night he’d been so tender. No man had ever held her before. Even her father was more likely to pat her on her head or shoulder as if she were one of his hounds, than hug her. If only it was Vivian he was making love to and not Cleo.
The thought had dogged her mind all day. She had made her disguise too well. The makeup, wig, and lowering her voice had worked to perfection. The truly bad part was she had to stop lying to herself and admit she wanted him to love her. She was tired of never coming first in a gentleman’s life.
What a mess she’d made of it all. Yet, if Rupert was going to fall in love with her, he would not now be with Cleo. That was one fact she had learned the hard way: It was impossible to make a man fall in love with you if he loved another. Why did this have to happen to her? Twice!
Her chest constricted, and tears pricked her eyelids. She would not weep over a man again. It never helped. She would find a way to deal with Lord Stanstead during the day and Rupert at night.
A light knock came on the door and Silvia entered. “I have a favor to ask.”
Vivian hastily wiped her eyes. “Yes, of course. What do you need?”
“Are you all right?” The concern in Silvia’s voice made Vivian determined to show her friend all was well. “Have you been crying?”
“Not at all. I am merely having a reaction to something.” Fortunately, her nose didn’t become red when she wept. “What can I do for you?”
Her friend blushed. “Nick, Lord Beresford, is here to speak to me. I need someone to play gooseberry, but I don’t wish anyone to hear us.” She pulled a face. “It’s liable to become quite a heated discussion. I thought the back of the garden would be more appropriate.”
“And you would like me to remain on the terrace?”
Silvia rushed forward in a swish of muslin and took Vivian’s hands. “Yes, if you would. I know it is a great deal to ask . . .”
“Not at all.” It would be nice if one of them found love this Season. “Let us go. We should not keep him waiting.”
“Oh”—Silvia waved one hand airily—“that doesn’t bother me. As far as I’m concerned, he can wait a bit longer. I just want to get it over with.”
Then again, that did not sound promising. Vivian grimaced. “Try not to be too loud.”
Silvia led the way as if marching into battle, which she might indeed be. From what Vivian had seen in the past few weeks, Nicholas Beresford could be a formidable gentleman. On the other hand, he was the only man she’d seen who was up to her friend’s weight.
When they reached the main staircase, he was pacing like a caged lion. He glanced up, and it was clear he had eyes only for Silvia. “Well?” he barked. “Will you talk to me?”
“I told you I would.” Silvia’s tone was as belligerent as his.
“Barnes,” Vivian said. “Please fetch some tea and lemonade to the terrace. You may take your time; I believe his lordship and Miss Corbet would like to take the air.”
Vivian took Silvia by the arm. “My lord, this way, if you please.”
When they got to the morning room, Vivian released her friend. “Go outside. I can see you from here.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
