Lady Beresford's Lover by Ella Quinn

the opportunity to further his acquaintance with the lady, until Marcus poked his nose in their conversation and others of their friends and relatives had joined their little circle.
    Rupert learned her given name was Vivian, derived from the Latin vivus , meaning alive , yet she was not. Something held her back. She had smiled and joked easily with her cousin and Phoebe, yet when forced to converse with the men, she was hesitant and shadows appeared in her dark blue eyes. Although she had stood up to her husband’s relative, her hands had trembled slightly, as if she was afraid of the man. Rupert was sure her husband had abused her in some fashion. All his protective instincts came to the fore. He would find a way to help her overcome her fear.
    Once Vivian was in his arms she felt as light as a snowflake. For the first several minutes, she was tense, as if waiting for something, then she opened up and became more animated. He asked, “How long have you been in Town?”
    “Only a couple of weeks. I cannot say it has changed much in the intervening years.”
    Rupert knew he shouldn’t pry, but she had already let slip some information, and he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know more about her. “Did your husband not like London?”
    “My”—she pressed her lips together in disapproval—“ late husband came quite frequently.”
    It was the way she emphasized late that made him understand even more what her feelings were. “You didn’t get along.”
    In his arms, Vivian stiffened. “Let us merely say that there were too many people in our marriage and leave it at that, shall we?”
    Feeling easier than he had since he’d discovered she’d been married, he led her through the turn, holding her tighter. “We shall. Have you been anyplace interesting since you’ve been here?”
    “Not really. We’ve spent a great deal of time shopping and making morning visits.”
    “If you’ll allow me, it would be my pleasure to show you around.”
    Finally she smiled, and her face lit up. Rupert made a mental note not to discuss her late husband again. “I’d enjoy that very much, my lord. Thank you.”
    “Tell me what you remember about London from before, and I’ll fill in the gaps.”
    They spent the rest of the dance planning outings for the next couple of weeks. Then her brows drew together. “Would you not rather be squiring one of the young ladies around?”
    “No. I’m perfectly happy to dance attendance on you.”
    Her shoulders dropped as she relaxed. “Thank you again, my lord.”
    “It is entirely my pleasure, my lady.”
    Rupert fought the urge to tug her against him. Perhaps it was fortunate most of the fathers in Town believed he was too young for their daughters. It gave him the perfect excuse to spend more time with Lady Beresford, Vivian. To him she would be Vivian, until she gave him permission to use her name. Something, Fate maybe, had drawn him to her. Now he wanted to see how it played out.
    “May I have the supper dance? It is also a waltz.”
    He almost lost himself in the blue of her eyes before she replied, “I’d like that exceedingly.”
    Vivian could hardly believe how divine a waltz was when dancing with a gentleman who wanted to stand up with her and not someone else. She did not stop herself from tightening her grip on his shoulders. Where did Lord Stanstead come by his muscles? The rest of him must be as solid. Which meant he would not be at all interested in what her body had to offer. She was so repulsive to look at no man would be tempted to bed her. She was too fair, and dark hair was in fashion. In short, there was nothing right about her. No matter, she would enjoy his attentions while she could. She wasn’t going to re-marry in any event.
    He’d drawn her closer during the turn and his shoes brushed the hem of her gown, coming perilously close to her leg. Sensations she had never experienced before almost overwhelmed her, and she could feel the heat rise in her