A Gentleman's Wife

By: Antiope

Chapter 2

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Vivienne tried hard not to laugh as the young Amelia continued to eye her with child-like awe. The young child looked her up and down, taking in every detail. Vivienne suspected that she was being dissected and assessed, those young blue eyes knowledgeable and surprisingly calculating. If Vivienne didn't know any better, she would swear the little girl was planning something. She glanced at young Faith, who was eyeing Vivienne as well, but only with a mild curiosity. "May I ask what two little girls are doing wandering the halls of Loc Haven?"

"We were watching the dance," Faith answered.

"Oh?" Vivienne said softly.

"Yes," Amelia responded. "We would have been allowed to attend, but Beatrice complained."

"Beatrice Kently?" Vivienne asked tensely.

"Yes," Faith answered.

Vivienne smiled bitterly. "Yes, she does like to...complain...doesn't she?"

The girls nodded.

"Well, you should be careful wondering the halls, you could get lost. I remember when I was a little girl, I-" Vivienne began.

All attention turned to the door, as Beatrice and Alice entered, laughing. The two young woman's laughter ended abruptly, as they noticed Vivienne. Beatrice's cold eyes brightened with fury as she saw the two children. "What are you two doing in here? You should be in the nursery, not here with this..." her lip curled cruelly, "woman."

Vivienne stood, and put one hand on Amelia's shoulder, the other on Faith's. "It isn't their fault. I was wandering the halls and saw them playing games. I asked them if they wanted to chat with me."

Beatrice glared at Vivienne angrily. "You are in no position to go wondering the halls of Henry's home, much less chat with disrespectful children."

Vivienne felt Amelia and Faith bristle angrily at her words, and chose to defend them. "I find the girls to be quite intelligent. If you spent some time with them, you might think so too."

Beatrice eyed Amelia scathingly. "You and Faith will return to Mrs. Portly in the nursery at once, or I will be forced to inform your fathers' of your disobedience." When she saw neither one of them move, she cried, "NOW!"

Amelia and Faith looked up at Vivienne, who nodded, and only then did they leave.

Beatrice watched them depart, and then motioned for Alice to follow suit. Alice did so immediately, closing the door softly behind her.

Beatrice turned to Vivienne, and smiled. "Since we are now alone, I would like to ask you to stay away from little Amelia and Faith."

"Concern for their well being?" Vivienne asked, skeptically.

"Hardly," Beatrice laughed. "Their fathers' are very important, and...wealthy men. They are the catch of the Season, and I intend to have one of them."

Vivienne's brows rose. "You make it sound like a hunting expedition."

"That is exactly what it is dear," Beatrice told her, eyeing her up and down with a look of distaste. "Ahem...fortunately for you, you won't have to be bothered with the rigors of trying to ensnare a wealthy husband."

Vivienne frowned. "Haven't you ever thought to marry for love?"

Beatrice laughed cruelly. "And end up like you? No, I would rather marry a man with power and money. It helps if they are handsome, which fortunately, Devon and James are."

Vivienne straightened to her full height, a feat that cause her to look down at Beatrice, who was several inches shorter. "Devon? Devon Worthing?"

Beatrice smiled. "Yes. You and he are acquainted then?"

Vivienne looked away, her eyes shadowed. "Yes. In another life."

"Well my dear, that little Amelia is his daughter, his pride and joy. The brat is intelligent, far too smart for a girl her age. Faith is easier to manage, but then again, what does it matter?" Beatrice moved closer to Vivienne, her body tense. "You stay away from those men and their little brats or else..."

"Or else what?" Vivienne demanded. "There is nothing that you can do to me that would make my life any worse."

Beatrice smiled. "I can make your brother throw you out on your ear."

Vivienne managed to reign in her anger. "You can try," she muttered through gritted teeth, "but he would never do it. So if you are going to threaten me, have some sense to know what you are doing."

Vivienne shouldered her way passed the furious Beatrice and opened the door. "It is quite sad Beatrice. You could have been such a good person...even happy." She shook her head sadly and left the room, while a bewildered Beatrice stared at the closed door.

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Amelia moved away from the door as Vivienne opened it. Vivienne smiled down at the young girl, and turned to move down the corridor.

"Why aren't you down at the ball?" Amelia asked curiously.

Vivienne looked over toward the stair railings, at the ballroom doors below. She slowly moved forward until she stood directly in front of them, peering down. "I used to go down there. I remember how much fun they were. My brother and I would watch everyone dance and dream of what it would be like to find our soul mates here. He found his."

"You can find yours," Amelia said. "Just go down there, and you'll see."

Vivienne looked longingly down at the mass of people-people who have long since shunned her. She turned her gaze on Amelia and placed her hand lightly on the girl's darling head. "Someday I might. So shall you little Amelia." She caressed the little girl's cheek and gazed down at her with intense appraisal. "You should go to the nursery. We don't want your father getting angry, do we?"

Amelia shook her head and watched as Vivienne walked away, toward the guest bedrooms corridor. Faith came up behind her friend and watched the older woman's retreat. "What are we going to do now?"

"In the words of my grandmother," Amelia said, "'We shall light the fire...and hope for an explosion.'"

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Devon Worthing stared across the expanse of the ballroom, over the sea of faces, toward the exit, an escape from the madness of London's society. He suppressed a groan of exasperation, as Lady Brent introduced him to her daughter, and began listing off her many accomplishments, and abilities. Another mama hoping to have her daughter married to one of the most eligible bachelors in England. He looked over at James, a close friend and business partner for over ten years. He smiled at the knowledge that at least James was also getting bombarded with offers and not so subtle hints about certain women.

"I am so glad you agree!"

Devon looked back at Lady Brent and frowned. "Agree, madam?"

"Yes," Lady Brent said, bursting with unsuppressed joy. "I asked if you would dance with my little Olivia!"

Devon stiffened awkwardly. "Well, madam, I..."

He paused as the girl in question was pushed into him, and they were thrust onto the dance floor. Devon straightened, and moved away from the girl until they were at a proper distance to dance. Taking her hand, he twirled the quiet, and remarkably pale Olivia around the floor, trying to start a polite conversation, but only receiving one word answers. When the song was over, Devon was relieved to hand the girl back to her mother and make excuses. He moved over to James who seemed to be having a wonderful time flirting with several of the women around him. "Valmont."

James looked up, and grinned. After murmuring a few words to the women, he managed his way out from their clutches and walked to his friend, thumping Devon several times on the back. "Come now Deveham. This Season is as good as any to find a wife..." he looked back at the group of women, "...or a mistress."

"A mistress right now does not appeal to my needs."

James Albright, Count of Valmont looked at his long time friend with an expression of mock-horror. "Your needs are unrealistic my friend. A woman may just be the thing that gets you out of this mood you have been in for the past few months."

"Well, until I find a woman that interests me, I will continue in my current lifestyle." Devon glanced around, distaste at such social functions apparent in his stature. "I think I have attended this gathering as long as politely necessary. I am going to get Amelia and return to the Square."

"Alright friend. I will probably be here for a long while, so take Faith with you. I don't want her alone with Mrs. Portly all night."

Devon nodded, and moved toward the doors, making polite comments and answering questions from the people who he passed on the way. Just as he was about to be free of the room, he felt a hand circle his arm gently. He looked toward the owner of the hand and tried not to grimace. Beatrice held his arm, her blue eyes fluttering suggestively. "Come, my dear Lord Deveham. You promised me a dance. The night is still young, and I insist you stay. This dance is in my honor, I do believe."

Silently Devon followed her onto the dance floor as a new melody began from the orchestra, and the dance began. Devon was forced to subtly pull away from Beatrice, as she came in closer than was allowed. As the dance came to an end, Beatrice asked him if he wished to dance another. Devon refused politely. To dance with a girl once was considered kindly. To dance twice allowed the tongues of the many ladies and gentlemen present wag with untrue assumptions.

Beatrice sighed dejectedly. "Well, if you say you can not, then how about a walk in the gardens?"

Devon tried not to laugh. The ultimate compromising position. Found in a lover's embrace in the gardens. He would not put it past the young Miss Kently to do such a thing. "No, I am sorry. My daughter and I will be wanting to return to our town home tonight. I am sure Amelia is tired from her evening."

Beatrice's pasted-on smile wavered. "Oh, I am sure she is."

Devon frowned, not understanding what she meant, but desperate enough to get away from the girl to not care. "Good night Beatrice. May I once again say, that you look lovely tonight? Have a pleasant evening." Without another word, he turned to leave. Saying a necessary goodbye to Lord and Lady Kimbrooke, he made it to the doorway. He turned back and noticed Beatrice trying to push her way through the throng of mothers and daughters surrounding James and several other men. He grinned and left the room, hurrying up the stairs. He made it to the nursery and opened the door slowly, watching his daughter and Faith playing a game with cards. His heart swelled with pride as he watched his daughter play, her raven hair curling wildly around her. Faith was the more fair of the two, with blonde hair, and quieter disposition, something Devon noticed when the girls were together. "How are the two most beautiful ladies in London?"

Both girls looked up, surprise and delight in their expressions.

"Father!"

"Uncle Devon!"

They stood up and rushed into his waiting arms, while he whirled them around the room. He noticed the large form of Mrs. Portly sit up in her chair, seemingly just woken up. "Did my two little heathens behave?"

Mrs. Portly nodded. "Why yes, they were perfect angels!"

The girls giggled as Devon carried them away from the room after thanking the elderly nursemaid for watching them. "So, my little angels...did you enjoy watching the dances?"

Faith looked at him in shock. "How did you know?"

Devon laughed while his daughter sighed exasperatedly at her friend. "Well, he knows now, doesn't he?"

Faith blushed crimson. "Oh no! I'm sorry."

Devon put them down and scowled at them. "Well, you should be sorry!" He leaned down and whispered, "You should have told me earlier, I would have joined you!" He grinned at them, as they giggled hysterically.

He led them down the corridor and down the stairs. They passed the ballroom and were getting their coats, when Faith paused and looked back. "Isn't my father coming?"

Devon hunched down to her level. "He is a little busy right now Faith. You are coming home with us, ok? He will pick you up sometime tonight or tomorrow."

Faith smiled sadly. "Oh." She held her arms out and allowed her coat to be put on her. Amelia put her arms around her friend, and together with Devon, they got into a carriage and hurried away into the night.