duke alone? She hadn’t been thinking of her kinswoman at all.
Plastering on a bright smile, she swept into the room. “Here I am. I apologize for my lateness.”
Patrice startled. “Vivi, I thought you were still sick.”
“I woke this afternoon feeling back to my old self.” Moving to Patrice’s side, she placed a kiss on her sallow cheek. Bluish half circles under her cousin’s eyes made her appear as if she’d lost a round of fisticuffs. Her illness had battered but thankfully not beaten her. Vivi hoped the duke’s revelation wouldn’t send her cousin back to her bed.
She curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“Lady Vivian, what a delightful surprise.” He bestowed a charming smile upon her. “How lovely to see you again.”
Vivi didn’t know whether to admire his jolly nature or be irritated by it. Their situation hardly called for smiles and pleasantries.
Foxhaven remained standing until she took her seat. When he sat, he angled his head to one side. “Lady Vivian, have you done something different with your hair this evening?”
Her heart skipped. “You are likely noticing the string of pearls.”
“Ah, yes. Quite right, my lady.” He sipped his wine, watching her over the gilded rim of his goblet with twinkling blue eyes. “You are a vision.”
Vivi froze with her glass of lemonade halfway to her mouth. He had accused her of being a figment of his imagination at the spring, a vision . She placed her drink back on the table and silently pleaded with him not to tell her cousin about their first encounter. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Foxhaven nodded, his expression unreadable as he studied her. What thoughts churned behind his keen eyes? Perhaps he was simply organizing a list of her faults to justify his rejection. It shouldn’t be a difficult task.
Her hand shook as she reached for her fork, her focus on her plate for fear she might burst into tears if he glanced crossways at her. Patrice had worked tirelessly to raise her to be a lady, and Vivi had repaid her cousin’s kindness by tossing everything she had learned aside.
Patrice cleared her throat. “Please tell us of your plans for autumn, Your Grace. Will you travel north?”
“I will make a brief appearance in Northumberland, but then I must return to London. I have an appointment with an associate, Captain Pendry.”
Vivi’s interest was piqued despite her troubling thoughts. “A military man?”
“Master of a ship. My ship.” Foxhaven’s chest puffed up like Vicar Ramsey’s did when Patrice complimented him on one of his sermons.
“What need do you have of a ship?” Vivi asked.
Patrice raised her eyebrows, but she dismissed her cousin’s subtle warning. Hearing what Foxhaven had to say was worth any gentle scolding she would receive later.
“Why shouldn’t I have a ship, Lady Vivian? I cannot think of a single reason I shouldn’t.” The duke reminded her of a boy who had just received a new toy.
She frowned. “Don’t tell me you dabble in trade.”
They both pretended not to hear Patrice’s quiet gasp.
“I dabble in exploration, Lady Vivian. Admittedly I have yet to set out on a true expedition, but all will be remedied soon. The Isla sets sail in October, and I will be onboard. We will sail where no man has gone before us.”
Vivi’s pulse quickened. He spoke with humor, but could he be serious about leaving England? “Where is it you intend to explore?”
“The Antarctic. It is believed there is an entire continent south of the Sandwich Islands. There is a race of sorts to see who will discover it first: America, Russia, Britain. I’m placing my money on the Crown.”
“The Sandwich Islands. Do you mean Captain Cook’s islands? But his discovery was fifty years ago.”
“Forty-five.”
She laid her fork and knife aside, forgetting about her meal. “Close enough.”
Patrice threw her another warning look. “Please recall that His Grace is a guest, my dear.”
“Thank you, Lady Brighthurst, but
Plastering on a bright smile, she swept into the room. “Here I am. I apologize for my lateness.”
Patrice startled. “Vivi, I thought you were still sick.”
“I woke this afternoon feeling back to my old self.” Moving to Patrice’s side, she placed a kiss on her sallow cheek. Bluish half circles under her cousin’s eyes made her appear as if she’d lost a round of fisticuffs. Her illness had battered but thankfully not beaten her. Vivi hoped the duke’s revelation wouldn’t send her cousin back to her bed.
She curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“Lady Vivian, what a delightful surprise.” He bestowed a charming smile upon her. “How lovely to see you again.”
Vivi didn’t know whether to admire his jolly nature or be irritated by it. Their situation hardly called for smiles and pleasantries.
Foxhaven remained standing until she took her seat. When he sat, he angled his head to one side. “Lady Vivian, have you done something different with your hair this evening?”
Her heart skipped. “You are likely noticing the string of pearls.”
“Ah, yes. Quite right, my lady.” He sipped his wine, watching her over the gilded rim of his goblet with twinkling blue eyes. “You are a vision.”
Vivi froze with her glass of lemonade halfway to her mouth. He had accused her of being a figment of his imagination at the spring, a vision . She placed her drink back on the table and silently pleaded with him not to tell her cousin about their first encounter. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Foxhaven nodded, his expression unreadable as he studied her. What thoughts churned behind his keen eyes? Perhaps he was simply organizing a list of her faults to justify his rejection. It shouldn’t be a difficult task.
Her hand shook as she reached for her fork, her focus on her plate for fear she might burst into tears if he glanced crossways at her. Patrice had worked tirelessly to raise her to be a lady, and Vivi had repaid her cousin’s kindness by tossing everything she had learned aside.
Patrice cleared her throat. “Please tell us of your plans for autumn, Your Grace. Will you travel north?”
“I will make a brief appearance in Northumberland, but then I must return to London. I have an appointment with an associate, Captain Pendry.”
Vivi’s interest was piqued despite her troubling thoughts. “A military man?”
“Master of a ship. My ship.” Foxhaven’s chest puffed up like Vicar Ramsey’s did when Patrice complimented him on one of his sermons.
“What need do you have of a ship?” Vivi asked.
Patrice raised her eyebrows, but she dismissed her cousin’s subtle warning. Hearing what Foxhaven had to say was worth any gentle scolding she would receive later.
“Why shouldn’t I have a ship, Lady Vivian? I cannot think of a single reason I shouldn’t.” The duke reminded her of a boy who had just received a new toy.
She frowned. “Don’t tell me you dabble in trade.”
They both pretended not to hear Patrice’s quiet gasp.
“I dabble in exploration, Lady Vivian. Admittedly I have yet to set out on a true expedition, but all will be remedied soon. The Isla sets sail in October, and I will be onboard. We will sail where no man has gone before us.”
Vivi’s pulse quickened. He spoke with humor, but could he be serious about leaving England? “Where is it you intend to explore?”
“The Antarctic. It is believed there is an entire continent south of the Sandwich Islands. There is a race of sorts to see who will discover it first: America, Russia, Britain. I’m placing my money on the Crown.”
“The Sandwich Islands. Do you mean Captain Cook’s islands? But his discovery was fifty years ago.”
“Forty-five.”
She laid her fork and knife aside, forgetting about her meal. “Close enough.”
Patrice threw her another warning look. “Please recall that His Grace is a guest, my dear.”
“Thank you, Lady Brighthurst, but
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