Someone to Watch Over Me (Bow Street Runners #1)(55)

"I wanted revenge because of a lie Vivien had spread about me among the London gossip circles. On the night I found you and brought you here, I decided that I would sleep with you--her--as a salve to my pride."

"And then what were you going to do? Use and discard her? Hurt her in return for the embarrassment she caused you?"

He gave a single shamed nod. Vivien inhaled sharply. Perhaps it should have made her feel better that another woman, and not she, had been Grant's intended target. But it didn't. She didn't want to think him capable of such pettiness, such dishonor. And it hurt dreadfully to realize that what for her had been an act of giving had been for him only an act of revenge. "I see."

"No, you don't."

"The fact that I was injured and helpless didn't matter to you," she murmured. "In fact, it made it easier for you to take advantage."

His eyes gleamed with frustration, and she sensed the sudden boiling of his emotions beneath his controlled surface. "It all went wrong from the beginning. You didn't behave like the woman I thought you were."

Vivien's calmness evaporated as she was filled with a sense of utter betrayal. "You were the one solid thing in the world, the one person I could trust...and you've lied from the very beginning."

"Only about our supposed affair."

"Only?" she repeated, angry that he was trying to minimize his actions. "What if I had indeed been the real Vivien, and I were every bit as promiscuous and self-absorbed and unlikable as you expected? That doesn't excuse your behavior at all."

"If I had known who you really were--orweren't --I would never have hurt you."

"But you have," she said bitterly.

"Yes, the damage is done." His voice was flat and unemotional. "And all I can do now is try to make reparations and ask your forgiveness."

"Not my forgiveness," she corrected. "Vivien's."

Grant stared at her as if she had suddenly gone mad. "I'll be damned if I'll go with my hat in hand to that woman."

"That is the only reparation I'll accept." She stared at him without blinking. "I want you to apologize to Vivien when you find her, for your cruel intentions toward her. And I'll forgive you ifshe does."

"Apologize to Vivien," he repeated, his voice rising to a thunderous pitch. "But I didn't sleep with her. I slept with you."

"What if you had indeed slept with her as you planned? Would you feel sorry then?"

"No," he snapped.

"Then you would not regret manipulating and deceiving someone if you thought he or she deserved it?" Her face was taut with disappointment and censure. "I would not have thought you capable of such ruthlessness and small-mindedness!"

"I said I was sorry, dammit!" "But you're not," she replied gently. "You don't regret having come up with your horrible plan...you only regret that you didn't hurt the person you had intended to. And I could never love a man who behaves in such a manner." It almost gave her satisfaction to watch him struggle to control his spiking temper. Closing his eyes, he somehow managed to stave off an explosion, although his color heightened and his jaw vibrated with a visible tic.

"It's time to leave," he finally said. "I've sent word ahead to Linley."

Although Dr. Linley's fashionable residence was within walking distance, Grant had ordered his carriage to be prepared. The ride was silent, uncomfortable, and mercifully short. Vivien glanced frequently at the huge, aggravated male in the seat opposite hers. Grant seemed to be in a state of battened-down consternation, more than ready to do battle--except there was no one to do battle with.

She suspected that he was considering their argument and silently debating the points she had made. She longed to say something else, to soften him with a few pleading words...perhaps even try to coax him into agreeing with her. However, she kept her mouth tightly closed. He must resolve this issue on his own. She knew that he had no liking for the real Vivien Duvall, but that didn't excuse his own actions. A man wasn't entitled to lie or take advantage of others merely because he didn't respect them.

They reached Linley's town home, one of a long row of Grecian-fronted residences adorned with immaculate white plasterwork and columns. Grant helped her from the carriage and escorted her up a small flight of steps, and they were immediately welcomed into the house by the butler. Dr. Linley awaited them in the library, a small but tidy room lined with oak bookcases and furnished with shield-backed Hepplewhite chairs and a matching table.

Greeting them pleasantly, Linley seated Vivien in an armchair by the fire. He smiled and brushed back a swath of blond hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Miss Duvall," he murmured, "you are not feeling unwell, I hope?"

Vivien opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She stared at him with hot color climbing up her face as it struck her that the main purpose of this visit was to discuss the unexpected discovery of her virginity, and its bearings on her case. How had she come to be in this ignominious position?

Regarding her with mild perplexity, Linley turned his attention to Grant, who was stone-faced. An inquiring glint shone in the doctor's gray eyes. "I had to cancel two appointments because of the message you sent this morning, Morgan," he remarked. "Would you care to explain the urgency of this visit?"