One Sinful Night (22 page)

“I figured you'd say as much,” Aggie said with a deep sigh. “I know you too well. If you marry Nicky, you would have a chance of respectability and a family of your own. By choosing not to accept his proposal, you are ruined. You must understand that you are resigning yourself to a very lonely life, forever regarded as a tarnished woman.”

Nothing Vivienne had ever done with Aidan had ever felt wrong or immoral. They were friends, they loved each other deeply, and were getting married, so that made their visits to the cottage justifiable to her. Aggie had raised her unconventionally, to be sure. She was brought up to think for herself and to be strong and independent. And even though Vivienne never outright told her grandmother what she and Aidan had been up to at the cottage, she was aware that Aggie knew. Aggie never said a word for or against Vivienne's discreet trysts with Aidan. That's just how she was, leaving it up to Vivienne and her own conscience to decide what was right, and Vivienne had never believed for an instant that she and Aidan were doing anything wrong. But now, seeing how it appeared to others with a less tolerant perspective, Vivienne felt ashamed for the first time, but she shook her head defiantly. “I haven't done anything wrong. I love Aidan. We were going to be married in a few weeks.”

Again Aggie patted her hand in comfort. “I know, Vivienne, I know. But you must see how it looks to everyone in town.”

Sadly she nodded her head. “It's not fair.”

“Life is not fair, my dear,” Aggie said pithily, but not without some compassion. “It won't be easy, to be sure, but we'll get by just fine. You come from strong and hearty stock, Vivienne. You'll survive this.”

Vivienne nodded her assent halfheartedly, unsure if she had any strength at all.

Aggie continued pragmatically, “But let's just hope your reckless ways with the new Earl of Whitlock didn't leave you with a baby to remember him by.”

Fully humiliated now, Vivienne cringed, placing her hand on her abdomen. In spite of the shame, a little part of her hoped that she did carry Aidan's child, for then she would be able to keep a part of him with her to love forever.

In time, however, she learned that she would not have a child of Aidan's. In time, she refused Nicky Foster's entreaties to marry him. And in time she became accustomed to the cool glances and disapproving frowns from the righteous folk in town. She was no longer invited to socials or asked to dances by the young men, because they expected other favors from her instead.

So she spent her days living an isolated life in Galway with her grandmother and keeping to herself. The lonely days spun into weeks. Then months. Then years.

England
Spring, 1870

“What were you thinking? Honestly, Aidan, you were naked in that harlot's bed in front of my very eyes!”

Susana Kavanaugh railed at her son, placing her hand dramatically on her heart as if the very memory of what she had seen eclipsed the actual event. She paced back and forth in front of him, her movements sharp and frantic. Usually pulled tight from her face, her gray hair now splayed out crazily in all directions and her dark blue dressing gown swirled wide about her slippered feet as she made each turn to walk back the other way.

“I was humiliated and disgraced tonight in front of Lord and Lady Cardwell, as well as Mister Harlow. And now…Now you are expected to marry that horrid girl!”

Aidan sat stony faced in his mother's room after answering her summons. She had recovered quickly from her fainting spell in Vivienne's room and was fully enraged by the time he arrived. She began her tirade the minute he stepped inside but, then again, he had not expected anything less from her.

She could not be any angrier with him than he was with himself. He now had to marry Vivienne Montgomery. Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak; there was no gentlemanly way out of it. He had agreed to marry her, sealing his fate with hers forever. He'd been recklessly foolish with Vivienne, not just once but twice this week, and he knew full well the risk he ran if they were caught together. Now Vivienne would be his wife. His gut clenched at the thought and his head throbbed.

“How am I supposed to face the Winstons after this? Why couldn't you have been caught with Helene instead?” his mother wailed in impotent rage. “You simply cannot marry Vivienne Montgomery!”

After dealing with Vivienne and Lord and Lady Cardwell, Aidan was exhausted from the events of the evening and had very little patience left for his mother. “If it's any consolation, Mother, she doesn't want to marry me any more than I want to marry her.”

And that stung. Vivienne seemed genuinely appalled at the idea of marrying him and the distraught look in her eyes turned his blood cold. Years ago they would have married each other joyfully, eagerly. Now she would rather face scandal and ruin than be his wife. Although being forced to marry her did not sit well with him either. He had not been given time to consider the travesty of a marriage they would have, nor did he want to give it any thought now.

“That's a lie!” Susana ranted and raved, her hands gesturing wildly. “That's a lie! She wants to marry you and always has. She planned this! She trapped you and tricked you! She planned it this way! She knew her aunt and uncle would discover the two of you together tonight and you would have to marry her.”

Wearily he rubbed his temples and found himself defending Vivienne. “No, Mother, she didn't. Vivienne did not invite me to her room this evening. In fact, I only went to her room on a spur of the moment decision just to talk to her about…something. So there is no way she could have or would have planned to be caught in such a shameful manner by Lord and Lady Cardwell when she had no idea that I would be there in the first place.”

“You…you went to her room uninvited in the middle of the night?” Her voice was incredulous, her gray eyes wide in total disbelief. Slowly, she lowered herself to sit in the armchair behind her, as if she were not capable of bearing her own weight under such circumstances. She stared at her son wordlessly.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly, as it was not an easy thing to admit to his mother. He knew she was genuinely upset and embarrassed by his behavior and had every right to feel that way. Hell, he felt ashamed and embarrassed by his own behavior.

“Aidan, why? Why?” Susana began to cry. “You told me you were going to stay away from her. I suspected you were falling under her spell again, but I never imagined that you would do such a thing. To go to her bed! I never expected to find
you
with her.” Her sobs became more pronounced and tears spilled down her pale cheeks.

In all his life, Aidan had never seen his mother shed so much as a single tear, let alone seen her in such a state. She had always been impeccably controlled and reserved, barely showing any emotion at all. Except for anger. He did not know how to comfort her now. Nor did he want to comfort her.

Yes, he had been caught in a very embarrassing and highly compromising situation and he had to marry Vivienne. And no, she was not his first choice for a bride. He and Vivienne had many issues between them to complicate their marriage. It was a dreadful mess to be in and he felt sick to his stomach about it, but his mother carried on as if her world had come to an end.

“I'm sorry,” he stated awkwardly to her. “This is entirely my fault.”

“Don't say that,” she wailed loudly, crying harder. Her face looked ten years older suddenly. With her arms wrapped around her chest, she rocked back and forth, back and forth, sobbing. “If you had just stayed away from her tonight, this wouldn't have happened. After all I did to get you away from her, she won anyway. She got you. Oh, Aidan, why didn't you stay away? Why did you go to her tonight? Tonight of all nights?”

She rambled on hysterically, beside herself with despair, and Aidan could barely understand her.

“I'm going to sleep now. I'll see you in the morning.” While she continued to cry, he patted her shoulder and left her room, gratefully closing the door behind him. He motioned to Mary, his mother's lady's maid. “Bring her some hot tea, will you, please? And stay with her until she calms down.”

The thin woman nodded her head in agreement. “Of course, my lord.”

Weary and emotionally drained, Aidan slowly made his way back to his room. Finley had been waiting for him but had fallen asleep in an overstuffed armchair near the fireplace, which burned low, the coals glowing red. He sat up and rubbed his eyes slowly when the sound of the door awakened him.

“You look like you've been through hell,” Finley stated with a wide yawn, taking in Aidan's disheveled appearance. “Rough evening at the ball?” he asked sardonically.

“You could say that.”

“What happened?”

“It seems I'm getting married this week.”

Finley's eyebrows raised at his startling comment. “Indeed. Who is the lucky lady?”

“Interesting that you didn't automatically assume it was Helene Winston.” Aidan remarked, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking off his shoes.

“Isn't it Helene?”

“No.”

“Then it must be Vivienne.”

“You're quick,” Aidan quipped dryly.

“I gather it was not a romantic proposal.”

“Hardly. Her aunt and uncle found us naked together in Vivienne's bed.”

Shocked, Finley said in amazement, “You're lucky the uncle didn't shoot you on the spot!”

“I know.” Aidan sighed wearily at the thought. “It was not my finest moment.”

“How is Vivienne?”

“Embarrassed. Shamed. Sick at the thought of marrying me.”

“Is your mother aware of the good news yet?”

“Oh, yes. She happened to get an eyeful of the scene herself firsthand.”

“Jesus.” Finley shook his head and whistled low. “She must be fit to be tied.”

“That's an understatement.” Aidan stretched out on his back on the bed, too tired to remove his clothes.

“Imagine you and Vivienne getting married after all that,” Finley said quietly.

“I can't imagine it.”

Finley pondered aloud, “It almost seems as if you should have married her as you wanted to in the first place. Think of all the problems that could have been avoided.”

“That was the problem, Finley,” Aidan said in exasperation, looking up at the ceiling. “She didn't want to marry me then. She was with another man.
She
left
me
.”

“But you left the country without talking to her about it.”

Aidan rose up on his elbows and glanced curiously at Finley. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Yours, of course,” Finley muttered softly, his brows furrowed. “It's just strange, that you're marrying her in the end after all.”

Strange was an understatement. Aidan could not think of a more confounding situation than the one in which he currently found himself with Vivienne.

 

Jackson Harlow slammed his fist ineffectually into the wall, which was covered in pink cabbage rose wallpaper. He had no decent outlet for his considerable anger and frustration and he felt he would explode.

What the hell happened tonight?

He had slipped away to Vivienne Montgomery's room, anticipating a lovely interlude with her, perhaps even being able to persuade her to marry him. He had arrived a little later than he'd intended, due to some delicious antics with the insatiable Annabelle Worthington, and he had feared Vivienne would not still be awake.

Jackson could not believe his eyes when he reached her door. A flustered Lady Cardwell was rushing down the hallway with her fat daughter in tow. Lord Cardwell was having an apoplectic fit and Lady Whitlock lay out cold on the floor. His first thought was that something terrible had happened to Vivienne and, surprisingly, he felt his heart race in fear at the thought.

Then he glanced into her room and what he saw instantly explained the pandemonium in the hallway. Jackson could not breathe for an instant at the sight of Vivienne, his beautiful bride-to-be, huddled under blankets up to her neck, her cheeks scarlet, her long black hair loose around her. Next to her, unbelievably, the Earl of Whitlock, bare-chested, looked mortified. Obviously, they had interrupted a very intimate moment between the two.

What the hell was Whitlock doing in Vivienne's bed when she had sent him a note inviting him to her room the same night? He did not believe that he had imagined her willingness earlier that evening. Was she simply playing him for a fool? But to what end?

But no, he did not believe it was in her character. Admittedly, he did not know Vivienne all that well, but he just had a sense that she was a moral and honorable woman. He'd never met a woman of such noble character that he was so physically attracted to before.

Why the note? What was it she urgently needed to talk to him about? Had she feared a visit from Whitlock? She could not have expected Jackson to come to her room the same night she was entertaining Whitlock. Hell, he wasn't aware that there was anything between Vivienne and Whitlock to begin with. From what he had sensed, the two disliked each other intensely. Nothing about the evening made any sense.

And how did it happen to be that Whitlock's mother was present to witness such a scene? It was almost as if it were planned. But certainly Vivienne could not have planned to have herself humiliated and disgraced to marry Whitlock, when he had all but offered himself to her earlier in the evening.

Something was not right. Vivienne was not the type to play harlot games. He would bet his life on that. During the masked ball, she had eagerly agreed to see him when they returned to London. Hell, he'd even acted the gentleman for the first time in his life and asked permission to court her from that windbag of an uncle of hers. Then she sent that note to him. He was positive she had been in need of his help and that soon she and her fortune would be his.

And now they would both belong to that smug Earl of Whitlock, of all people. As if he didn't have more than enough in his favor already.

He wondered if Aidan somehow discovered that Vivienne had the deeds to the diamond mines and schemed to have himself caught not only in her room, but in her bed. That would explain why his mother happened to be walking by at that time of night. Perhaps he had completely underestimated the goody-two-shoes Lord Whitlock all this time. Maybe he was a worthy competitor after all, for somehow he had managed to ensnare Vivienne and her priceless deeds right out from under him.

Well, Lord Whitlock, you haven't married her yet!

There was still time to get Vivienne away from him. Uncle Windbag was procuring a special license for them this week. That would give Jackson a few days to work up a plan to get her back.

And get her back he would. Because Jackson Harlow played to win.