Sara Bennett (23 page)

“When we met Lord Lawson at the opera…”

“I didn’t want him to know who you were.”

“You pretended to be drunk.” She sat up straighter, cold now, the pleasures of the night forgotten. “You have been pretending all along, haven’t you!”

To her horror, Oliver didn’t deny it. “I didn’t need the complications you brought with you. I wanted to frighten you away, Vivianna, by playing the bad man, but you wouldn’t be frightened. I don’t say I didn’t enjoy it. But now it isn’t safe any longer to continue with our little game. Lawson has his gaze fixed on you. He thinks he can use you to stop me from tearing down Candlewood and finding the letters. He pretends he’s concerned for the orphans, but he isn’t. Don’t ever believe that. Lawson does nothing that does not benefit himself.”

Vivianna was turning the information over in her mind. Well-worn memories, beloved scenes, returned to her, one after the other, but now they looked so different. They had taken on a new aspect, as if she had been looking at them from the wrong angle. When Oliver had followed her to Lady Chapman’s meeting he had been playing a part. When he had taken her to the opera, he had been playacting. When he had made
fierce love to her just now, it had been make-believe. He had said it was a game to him, and so it was.

Oliver was no more a lost soul than she! He had been pretending all along, and probably laughing at her behind her back.

“You’re not a rake,” she said tightly, and the pain in her chest made it hard to breathe.

“You’re not happy with your one night in the arms of the lecherous scoundrel Oliver Montegomery?” he mocked. “I thought it was rather fine.”

“Stop it,” she whispered. Anger made her tremble, the heat rising up her throat and into her face. Tears blossomed in her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. He would not make her cry, he would not.

“Well, I gave you what you wanted,” he said in that cold, stranger’s voice. “A night in the arms of an experienced rake. After this past year I feel I have the necessary qualifications.”

He seemed to be waiting for something, but Vivianna did not know what it was. Her pride forced her voice to mimic his indifference.

“Yes, you were the perfect rake. I have no complaints. But now it is over, Oliver. You will understand if I say that I never want to see you again.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “I understand, and I’m sure you will not take offense if I add that the feeling is mutual.”

She nodded stiffly, then pulled away from him, moving back into her corner.

Her body ached, her head ached, but most of all her heart ached.

He had lied to her, fooled her, used her. She felt humiliated as she had never been before. Her night of wondrous passion had turned into a night of heartbreak, and the memory of it would never leave her. It
had never been real, none of it, just as Oliver had never been real.

Vivianna knew to her despair that she had fallen in love with a man who did not even exist.

Dawn was breaking across London, and the street sweepers had long been up. The horses were weary, and so was Oliver. For the final part of the journey he had sat staring at nothing, aware of Vivianna’s outraged silence nearby. He had fully intended her to be hurt. He had had to wound her so severely that she would not wish to see him again.

Knowing Vivianna as he did, Oliver had understood that if she believed him to be in need of her help she would never leave him. She would put herself at risk for his sake. He did not want that. If she was ever to be safe, then Lawson must believe that she was estranged from him. And Lawson was no fool—he would see through one of Vivianna’s lies. It had to be the truth.

Well, now fiction had become fact. Vivianna hated him, and her hatred made her safe. She would never know how his heart ached, awash with regret and memories of the night he had just spent with her. A night he intended never to forget.

She must believe him a monster, but the fact was Oliver was suffering just as much as Vivianna. More, because he had to hide it. For her sake, he had to pretend. And he was so, so tired of being something he was not.

The coach drew to a halt. In a moment she was out of the door and jumping down to the street. She glanced back, her face white and pinched, her eyes dark hollows.

“I never want to see you again,” she said bitterly. “Understand that, Oliver.”

“Of course,” he drawled, and lifted his eyebrows as if there had never been a question of it being otherwise.

She cast him one, last, fulminating look and then she was gone. Her slippers hardly made a sound as she reached the corner and turned. And then there was nothing, only silence and an empty street.

She couldn’t know it, of course, he thought idly, but Vivianna had changed him. She had brought a sense of purpose back into his life. A sense of looking toward a future that held more than just the destruction of Lawson and the avenging of his brother.

He bit back a groan of despair. There was nothing he could do. “Drive on!” he called out, and the coach lurched forward.

Lil had left the back door unlatched, and Vivianna slipped in. There may be servants about, but she could pretend to be up early rather than in late. In this household, they were used to Toby coming in at all hours; probably no one would notice. In her room, Vivianna fell exhausted onto the soft mattress. She wondered how it was possible to feel so low, so humiliated, so utterly destroyed. She had given herself to Oliver, enjoyed the most wonderful night of her life, and in return he had shown her that it had all been a lie. A grand plan to avenge his dead brother.

How honorable of him! How brave! And how utterly, utterly selfish! Didn’t he think she would mind? Or did he simply want her to fade away and let him get on with his wretched plot?

Vivianna felt as if she were dying, all the warmth and passion he had brought to the fore curling up and turning brittle. The ache from his lovemaking mocked her, taunted her, and broke her heart.

She had once feared that Oliver was as bad as Toby,
but now she realized he was worse. Oh, far, far worse….

Another tear slid down her cheek but she turned into the pillow and rubbed it off. If she cried any more she would not be able to stop, and her mother must not see that she had been weeping. Nor her sister. She had never felt so
alone
….

Vivianna lifted her head. There
was
a place she could go to. A person she could talk to. Someone who would not be shocked or appalled by the depths to which she had sunk.

Someone who would understand.

D
obson answered the door in his red jacket, and his gray eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her.

“Miss Vivianna? Whatever is’t? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Dobson, is Miss Aphrodite here? I need to speak with her.” And then, as if her lack of manners had just occurred to her, “Please.”

He eyed her curiously, but whatever he saw caused him to stifle any questions. “You wait here a moment, and I’ll see what I can do. We ain’t long been closed, you know.”

Vivianna realized then that Aphrodite, too, had been up all right.

“Thank you, Dobson,” she whispered.

He touched her arm, his big fingers gentle, and then went to a door across the hall and gave a smart knock. “Miss Vivianna to see you, ma’am. I don’t think she can wait.”

There were steps behind the door, and then a girl
with a pretty, sulky face opened it. She winked at Dobson, pouted at Vivianna, and tripped away up the stairs. Aphrodite’s familiar voice came from inside the room.

“Send Miss Greentree in to me, please, Dobson.”

But Vivianna felt as if her feet had taken root. Seeing the other girl had reminded her what this place really was. A high-class brothel, where men came to satisfy their lusts. If, she thought miserably, they could not find a gullible virgin to do it for them.

And yet despite all that, despite her doubts, she knew this was where she had to be. She knew that Aphrodite would understand completely.

And that was what she needed right now.

Understanding.

“You go in, miss,” Dobson said quietly, and his hand was on her arm again, leading her gently toward the door. “You go and tell Aphrodite what’s the matter. She’ll be able to help you.”

Vivianna glanced at him.

Dobson nodded, as if to affirm it, and she took a deep breath before she brushed by him into the room.

It was a smallish and rather insignificant office. But Vivianna was not deceived. There may not be the opulence and the beauty here that was present in the other rooms of the house, but this was the business heart of Aphrodite’s empire. It was from here that she controlled everything.

Aphrodite had been seated at the desk, but now, seeing Vivianna, she rose with a rustle of black skirts. Diamonds shimmered upon her fingers and about her throat. An ebony pendant rested upon the swell of her breasts. Her face seemed to blur and shimmer a little, as if it, too, were a precious stone, and too bright for
Vivianna’s eyes. Her dark gaze narrowed and grew sharp.

“Whatever is the matter,
mon chou
?” she cried. Then, “You have read the diary? Is that it?”

Vivianna hardly heard her. “Miss Aphrodite,” she said, “I need to speak with you. I really do need to speak to you now. I have come from Queen’s Square, and I know I have not made a prior appointment. I know that. But I have to speak to you.”

Aphrodite had reached her side. Her perfume was strong and sweet, and yet somehow comforting. She looked into Vivianna’s face, her sharp eyes searching.

“What is it, Vivianna? Tell me, I am listening. I do not care for appointments and such. Tell me what has happened to you.”

Vivianna drew a breath, and the pain in her heart made her gasp. “Oliver,” she said. “He…Oh!”

The tears came then. Frustrated, Vivianna tried to stem them, to finish her sorry tale, but it seemed that nothing would keep them dammed. She put her face in her hands, but that just made it worse, because she began to sob from deep inside, and the sobs threatened to tear her apart.

Warm arms enveloped her and her face was pressed to a surprisingly fragile shoulder. She felt a kiss to her temple and a hand patted her back, as if she were a little girl again. And all the while Oliver’s perfidy was creating havoc inside her.

“Oh, dear girl,” whispered Aphrodite. “Poor child. What is it? What has this
cochin
done to you? Tell me now or I will think the worst.”

“It is…it
is
the worst!”

“That you have lost your heart?”

“No,” sobbed Vivianna, “no, I have lost my virginity.”

Aphrodite stroked her hair and gave a little laugh. “Ah. Well, I do not think that is the worst,
mon chou.
I thought that was what you wanted.”

“I did!” Vivianna gasped. “It was w-wonderful. He—he was w-wonderful. And then he told me that it had all been a game. He wasn’t really a rake at all, but he is involved in some deep plot and he was simply trying to frighten me away.”

“He didn’t seem to be trying terribly hard,
mon chou
….”

“But don’t you see? He lied to me! All this time, he lied! And then when I asked him for my one night with a r-rake, he agreed, and all the time he was lying and probably laughing at me behind my back!”

Her voice ended on a wail of rage and pain, but although Aphrodite’s arms tightened about her, her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.

“I see.”

“Of course I said I would never see him again. I said I hated him. But it was as if…as if he didn’t even
care
.”

Aphrodite squeezed her tighter still. “Do not pay him any heed for now. We must do what is good for you, not for Oliver.”

She sounded so sure, so confident. Vivianna felt her sobs subsiding. She took a shaken breath, and then another. Aphrodite led her to a chair and placed her upon it.

“Sit a moment,” she said with gentle firmness. “Take a breath. Regain your calm, Vivianna.”

“How can I?” she gasped. “I fell in love with a rake and now I learn he never existed. Oliver has taken my heart and now it is broken.”

Aphrodite sighed. “I warned you,
mon chou
. ‘Protect your heart.’ Remember for the next time—people
do not take hearts, they give them. Oliver did not take your heart, you gave it to him. There is a difference.”

Vivianna opened her mouth, then closed it again. She was right. Of course she was right. And yet the pain was no better for it.

Aphrodite perched herself on the arm of the chair and slid her arm around Vivianna’s shoulders.

“You probably think me callous,” she said with humor. “But I assure you that is not the case, Vivianna. I do not think you are damaged in any way that truly matters. You are young and the world is big. You will find another man who loves you as you will love him. Oliver Montegomery is not the only
poisson
in the sea.”

Vivianna nodded and tried to believe it.

“You are willful and passionate, and find it hard to curb those passions. I understand. I was so when I was a girl. But if you have read my diary you will know that. I thought I knew what I wanted, and so I took it. With maturity comes a calmer view of the world.”

“You have come a long way,” Vivianna said. “I know that. From Seven Dials to the Boulevard de la Madeleine.”

“Oh yes, I have come a long way. But I have suffered, also. I have suffered much sorrow.” She hesitated, and then said quietly, “I lost my children.”

Vivianna looked up at her, wiping the tears from her face with her fingers. She could not remember crying so since she was a little girl and she had tried to keep her sisters from harm.

“You lost your children?” she whispered.

Aphrodite nodded, and her eyes were awash with sorrow.

“I was abandoned,” Vivianna said, as more tears dribbled down her cheeks.

“No!” Aphrodite’s voice was harsh, and suddenly she gripped Vivianna tightly, almost painfully, against the black silk of her gown. “You were never abandoned! You were stolen. Taken from your mother by a cruel and wicked man.”

What is she saying?

Vivianna’s head had begun to ache from crying. Surely she hadn’t heard properly, or maybe she hadn’t understood. What cruel and wicked man?

“Your mother was not at home, but she thought her daughters were in good hands. There were loyal servants to care for them, and she did not believe they could be in any danger. She was wrong. The wicked man came for them and brought with him a harridan called Mrs. Slater. She took the three girls away in a coach, and their mother never saw them again.”

“Aphrodite?” Somehow Vivianna managed to get the word out.

“She tried to find them, of course she did! She searched and searched, but he had hidden them well, that man. For reasons of his own, you see, and I will not tell you those now, not here, not now. It is still too dangerous to know. But she did try to find you all, for her heart was breaking with the sorrow of her loss. He pretended to look, too, but I see now that was not the truth, although at the time I trusted him. In the end he said you were lost forever and that I should get used to it.”

Aphrodite’s face was against Vivianna’s hair—she felt her warm breath. Her arms clung, as if she did not want Vivianna to look into her face. As if she could only speak these words if she could not see her response. Not that Vivianna could have moved. She was frozen to the spot.

“I collapsed. I was ill for a long time, nearly a year,
and even then I did not recover completely. I have never recovered. I have never worn anything but black since you were taken. I have been in perpetual mourning for my daughters. And then you came to me, and said your name, and that you had two sisters, and I realized…I could not believe at first. I thought it was a cruel coincidence. And yet, your face, your eyes. I knew you, I know you. You are my daughter. You are my Vivianna.”

Vivianna, her cheek pressed to the black silk, wondered if she had lost her mind. For suddenly it was as if she really did remember. The past was swimming up to her out of the darkness. The other woman’s warmth beneath her cheek, the sweet scent of her, the timbre of her voice. All familiar. Her mother, so long lost, come back to her. Could it be? Was it possible?

But Viviana’s silence had been too long, and Aphrodite believed it had another meaning.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was harsh with pain and emotion. “I did not mean to tell you. I promised myself I would never tell you. You seemed so…so happy with your life, as if you preferred not to know after all these years. You had accepted yourself as yourself, you said. I am not ashamed of what I am and what I have done—I see no shame in it—but I can understand why you would not want such a mother as me.”

Vivianna lifted her head and looked up at Aphrodite. And now she could see the resemblance, particularly to Francesca. The dark eyes and dark hair, the pale skin, the beauty and passion in her face. This was indeed her mother, found at last, and she no longer had any doubts.

What did it matter who she was or what she was or had been? It only mattered that she had been found.
Strange, that Aphrodite was the person she had run to when she was in desperate need.

Perhaps, deep in her soul, she had always known the truth.

Vivianna gave a trembling smile. “Mama?” she whispered.

Aphrodite gave a low cry and tears ran down her cheeks. She wept unrestrainedly, and now it was Vivianna who tried to comfort her, patting her back and shoulders, murmuring words that meant nothing, kissing her cheeks.

At last they were quiet, Vivianna’s head upon her mother’s shoulder, and Aphrodite’s arm about her waist. Vivianna felt exhausted and yet oddly content. Oliver was still there, a constant ache in her heart, but he had been set aside for now. She had other things to think of.

“Who is my father?” Vivianna asked in a soft voice, as though she were indeed a child again. “I cannot remember him. I do not even remember speaking of him, or knowing anything about him. It’s as if he was a secret.”

“He
was
a secret,” Aphrodite said. “All of my three daughters had different fathers—shocking, is it not?” with a smile. “Having children is not the cleverest thing a courtesan can do, Vivianna, but if there is a man willing to care for her and the child, to make her life comfortable while she carries the child and bears it, and to help bring it up, then why shouldn’t a courtesan become a mother? Besides, I was lonely. I wanted a family of my own. For your father, I chose a man who was also alone, and who had no wish to marry. He had no children, and he agreed that to have one as an heir would be prudent. Although, when he learned you were a girl, he was not quite so keen. Your
sisters were conceived in similar circumstances, and with similar results. They are children to men who were otherwise childless at the time—insurance against the future. But for myself, well, I was content with my daughters.”

“I see,” Vivianna said, and she did. “Can you tell me now who my father is?”

Aphrodite gazed down into her face a moment and then she sighed. “Perhaps. I will have to ask him first. Yes, he still lives, Vivianna, but I have not seen him for a great many years. Not since I had the awful task of telling him you had been stolen. But I promise I will speak to him, and tell him you have been found, and if he is agreeable, I will give you his name. As for your sisters, I think it is best to wait until they are older before I speak to them. I fear for you all. I would rather suffer myself than have more harm come to you. I could not bear to lose any of you again, but especially not you, Vivianna. I know you now. I see you, living and breathing and standing before me. Your sisters…they are still memories, still little girls.”

“Why should you be afraid?” Vivianna asked, with something of her usual spirit. “You can name this man. He can be punished for what he did.”

Aphrodite shook her head. “This man will be watching; he always watches. If he thinks the truth might come out about what he has done, I know he will not scruple to act again. Or he will deny it, and why should anyone believe me over so important a gentleman? Let me deal with this, please. I understand your longing to know all, but believe me, it is safer if you do not. Not just yet.”

“I do not mean to press you….”

“I know. You are impatient. I will speak with your father, and then I will contact you. You must under
stand,
mon chou,
there were promises made before you were born. I swore I would do only as he wished in that regard. I cannot break them now.”

Vivianna understood, of course she did, but that did not help her to feel any more patient. She had found her mother, looked upon her, and now she wanted to know her father, too.