The ladies were to be presented any moment now. Vivienne stood like an ice sculpture among the rest of the animated girls at the entrance to the ballroom. How am I to - Before Vivienne could finish her thought, the doors opened, light streaming into the dark hallway, all eyes drawn to the rainbow of dresses.
The ladies strode out, smiling at the many handsome soldiers. Despite the large group of beautiful girls, much attention was drawn to Vivienne in her bold red gown, who refused to meet the gazes of her admirers.
She looked straight ahead at the glittering night sky through the window, her feet stopping just yards inside the ballroom, refusing to move any further. It was not long before a leather-gloved hand brushed her bare arm, sending a shiver through her body.
She forced herself to meet Tavington's eyes. He was looking at her in that way again. That same way he looked at her on the night he first set eyes upon her in her bedroom. Burning lust amplified his wandering gaze and Vivienne felt a jolting tingle race down her spine, but she met his eyes.
The other party-goers were watching them intensely, just waiting for them to tackle each other and make love right there on the dance floor, but the music of the first dance broke the spell and soon the floor was alive with swirling skirts and dancing smiles. Tavington forced himself to be a gentleman.
"Would you care to dance?" He held out a hand to her. Not knowing her mistake, she lightly took it. The minuet was the first dance of the evening. The simple, smooth feeling of Tavington's leather gloves on Vivienne's fingertips was so much more seductive than it would seem to those watching.
Vivienne's back was rigid as an iron pole as she gracefully stepped around her handsome partner, his icy eyes trapping her, locking her gaze with his. As all the dancers moved into the position to circle around the room, Tavington stepped closer to Vivienne, his hand pressed to the small of her back. Vivienne had to hold back a shiver as he touched her. She could feel the heat, the desire coursing through him at even this light touch.
"You look lovely," he murmured as they danced around the room.
She acknowledged his compliment with the slightest of nods, implying she did not want to talk to him. He either didn't catch the hint, or ignored it completely. More likely the latter, Vivienne thought.
"Dressing up for someone special?" Tavington said. Even his voice frightened Vivienne. Knowing her cheeks were probably red as apples by now, she threw back her shoulders and put her chin in the air, determined to distract herself from the uncomfortable feeling she couldn't escape.
For the next part of the dance, the partners formed groups of four, the gentlemen making an archway with their hands for the ladies to come through. Vivienne noticed her archway was rather small compared to those of the other dancers. Trying to seem nonchalant, she ducked through the archway quickly, but not quickly enough. Tavington caught the warm, sultry scent of her hair as she squeezed past him. She even smelled magnificent.
His eyes were pulled to her bosom as if by some magnetic force when she came close to take his hand again. He swallowed, desperately trying to keep his mind blank. Later. . . he reminded himself. He forced his eyes up to her face, but this time it was her red-stained lips that captivated him.
Oh God. . . Tavington had the overwhelming urge to rip off that tantalizing red dress. His knees nearly gave out with the effort not to, but he was saved from his temptation as the dance ended.
With a smug smile at Tavington, Colonel Bordon came up and swirled Vivienne away. A slim redhead shimmied up to Tavington and fixed him with a seductive glance. Any other time, it might have awakened his desire, but not tonight. Tonight he could think only of Vivienne.
Richard Carlton mingled with the party guests, observing the happenings of this dance. Benjamin Martin was still eager to have his revenge on the cruel Colonel Tavington - and the fact that the prostitute had only been held in his tent was slightly suspicious.
Then again, Richard thought, there was no sense jumping to conclusions. Perhaps Tavington favored this particular prostitute for her skill and it was nothing more than that. Richard, like many of the other guests, noticed the tension between Tavington and the prostitute. Why would a prostitute be invited to a grand ball anyhow? Utterly baffled, Richard continued to watch.
Richard was not the only observer of Colonel Tavington and Vivienne. Many young ladies had eyed Vivienne with the utmost envy as Tavington chose her for the first dance. The colonel was a very eligible bachelor and the young ladies could not take their eyes off him. Unlike Vivienne, any one of these women would have eagerly submitted to a night with this man. Two pretty sisters stood near each other, staring at Tavington so hard he must have felt it. Their expressions of longing were glued to his form as he swirled about the room.
Held in her new partner's arms, Vivienne felt she could move again. When she had danced with Tavington, it was as if he had frozen her mind and body with a single, heat-filled blue gaze. Now free of this enchantment, Vivienne looked about the large room, searching for someone who might help her. Bordon noticed her apparent distress and gently touched her cheek, bringing her attention back to him.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, his deep voice soothingly concerned. Vivienne opened her mouth to tell him of her dilemma, then abruptly shut it. Despite Bordon's concern, she did not trust him anymore than she trusted Tavington. Forcing a smile, Vivienne shook her head and continued scrutinizing the elegant ballroom, not noticing the way Bordon's breathing thickened as his gaze skimmed down her body.
Her gaze rested at last on a finely-dressed middle-aged man talking to Cornwallis in a jovial tone. The governor. Vivienne politely excused herself and made her way across the dance floor to Governor Lucas on the other side of the room, ignoring the feel of Bordon's eyes on her back.
Tavington had been unable to look away from Vivienne as she danced with her new partner. He followed her gaze as she looked at the governor. It was only when she broke away from her partner and began walking briskly towards Governor Lucas that Tavington too excused himself and fought through the crowd behind her.
So close now, so close to freedom! Vivienne was only feet away from Governor Lucas now. Pushing past the last dancing couple, she stood before him.
"Governor Lucas, I - " she was interrupted by a familiar cool voice.
"Your lordship, my wife greatly admires your home here and wanted to thank you for the lovely ball." Tavington stood next to Vivienne, looking calm and collected. Vivienne couldn't help but wonder with annoyance how he had gotten there so quickly. She should have known he would be watching her. Governor Lucas looked to be not suspicious in the least, even as Vivienne pleaded with her eyes for him to understand. The Governor only smiled at them.
"You are very welcome Lady Tavington. I am pleased you are enjoying yourself." He was entirely oblivious, though Cornwallis studied Vivienne, something appearing to be working through his mind.
"You have a wife, Tavington?" Cornwallis looked down to their ringless fingers, Tavington smoothly edged his hip in front of Vivienne's, hiding their hands.
"Yes, sir."
Panicking, Vivienne tried again.
"Sir, you don't understand - " Tavington interrupted her again. "If you'll excuse us, your lordship." With that he grabbed her arm and led her through the dancers and out the ballroom doors. Vivienne felt warning bells ringing in her ears, but she was helpless in his grasp.
Down many hallways he led her, walking faster and faster until they finally stopped in front of a statue of King George. Tavington flung her before him so he blocked her only way of escape. He released her arm at last, almost chuckling as he turned to face her.
"Just when I thought you would behave. . . I do believe you are more devious than I gave you credit for, Vivienne." Defeated once again, Vivienne was trembling with rage.
"You will call me Miss Kent, as is appropriate for how well we know each other." She couldn't hold back a small sneer as she spat her words in his face. Looking completely unfazed by this, he replied,
"On the contrary, Miss Kent, I believe I will soon know you better than any man ever has." He smiled slowly at her, allowing himself to relish the vanquished look on her face as her nervousness intensified.
She was no longer angry, he saw, but instead worried at what he would do next. And worried you should be, he thought, his eyes raking over her form once more.
"A dimly-lit hallway is quite a charming place. Almost. . . arousing." Tavington's subtle words and smoldering eyes promised something very promiscuous indeed and Vivienne got the feeling that if she came even a step closer to him, he would have her roughly against the stone walls.
Frightened at the way his eyes darkened with desire in this deserted hallway, Vivienne's only instinct was to move as far away from him as possible. She backed up slowly, not wanting to run lest sudden movement instigate an attack. Soon she could go no further, as the statue of King George was inches behind her.
But Tavington only drew closer. Vivienne realized all at once how much taller than her he was, how much stronger. Her heart seemed to beat double-time causing her chest to heave uncontrollably, not helping her situation. There was no escape. He was right in front of her now. His hand rose to her neck to trail slowly down to her collarbone, down between her breasts...
"There's no need to be frightened of me," Tavington crooned softly, dangerously. Vivienne couldn't hold back a shiver as his leather-clad fingers traced the neckline of her dress, moving slowly over her pale, bare skin.
Tavington noticed her reaction and smiled faintly, enjoying this. He leaned in closer, his other hand slipped to the small of her back, pressing her into him. Her lips parted involuntarily as the distance between them shortened.
She would be all his now. His face was but inches from hers, his breath warm on her tingling lips. Just as Vivienne was enjoying this closeness, thinking she might like for him to kiss her, he pulled away. She found herself pathetically leaning toward him, wanting the warmth to return. Tavington took her chin in one hand, pulling her ear towards his mouth, allowing her to briefly glimpse his victorious smirk.
"We shall finish this somewhere more. . . comfortable. Until tonight." His lips brushed her jaw and he was gone. Vivienne stood alone, her vision still hazy from the sudden stimulation. Her body was reeling, missing his closeness.
She sank to the floor as her legs threatened to collapse. What an idiot she was. How could she let him get to her so easily? You have more control than that, Vivienne scolded herself, trying to stand again. She had been foolish, almost giving him what he wanted. But why had she? She hated him. But oh, the feelings that spread through her body when he touched her. . . the leather sleek on her breasts.
Vivienne had once overheard her mother gossiping with some friends about unmarried Anne Pettigrew, who had become pregnant at the same age Vivienne was at the time - 15. May Kent had verbally butchered any reputation Anne might have retained to anyone who would listen. Poor Anne walked stiffly about the streets with her head down, ignoring the whispers of "whore" and "trollop." At the time Vivienne had agreed with the accusatory townspeople, but now she understood how such a fate had befallen Miss Pettigrew. To be touched intimately felt magnificent and so deliciously wrong, and Vivienne had gotten only the slightest taste. . .
Shaking the oncoming swoon away, Vivienne had the shocking realization that she was nothing better than a whore - and pathetically easy to manipulate. She slowly found her way back to the ballroom, tail between her legs.
"Vivienne, there you are!" Margaret and several other girls intercepted her as she entered the hallway. "We were beginning to wonder where you had . . . gone off to." Some of the girls giggled a bit. Vivienne felt defensive at their assumptions, unfortunately correct.
"I needed a walk to clear my head. It was warm inside the ballroom," she offered, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
"And did you walk alone?" Prudence purred, her tone thick with innuendo. Margaret cleared her throat, silencing the giggling.
"We have a few surprises for you, Vivienne. Come along." Margaret took her hand and began leading her back to their dressing room. Suspecting what these surprises might have to do with, Vivienne tried to dig her heels into the floor, firing out protests. She would not be seeing that infuriating Colonel anymore tonight.
"Really, you don't have to go to all that trouble - "
"Vivienne! Of course we do. It's not every day we get to help a young lady plan her wedding night!" Vivienne gulped down bile as they reached the door. Smiling, Margaret gestured to a nightgown on the bed. "Voila!" Vivienne felt her heart sink low in her chest as she gazed upon the beautiful material.
The nightgown was ivory and had a corset on top with a long gauzy skirt following suit, slit up past the thigh on one side. Vivienne sighed, racking her brain to come up with an excuse not to wear this when Margaret put both hands on Vivienne's shoulders and pushed her towards the dressing screen, flinging the nightgown after her.
Vivienne grudgingly put on the night dress, cringing at its tight fit. Just get it over with. She strode out in front of the mirror before she could lose her resolve and released a sigh of distress upon seeing her sensual reflection.
Vivienne looked even more stunning now than in the red dress. The skirt of the nightgown was slit up to her hip, her breasts threatening to bulge out of the tight corset. She stood there, shoulders slumping, staring at her reflection. Margaret and the other girls entered the room, cooing over her. Margaret held up a pair of lacy white garters.
"Put these on, Vivienne." Vivienne obeyed, her nervousness exploding through her anger and settling to rest on the inner layers of her body. Her hands started trembling as she pictured with fear the look Tavington would give her when he saw her. Margaret saw this and let out a bark of laughter.
"Don't be afraid, Vivienne. Even if you are clumsy, all he will be able to think about is how beautiful you look tonight." She moved behind Vivienne and started undoing the braids and twists in her hair.
"Besides, you have nothing to worry about" she paused, lifting her eyes to meet Vivienne's in the mirror "The word is that Mr. Tavington is very. . . experienced."
Vivienne grimaced slightly, trying to search in her mind for something to calm herself. She could hold him off. She would just have to be relentlessly stiff. If she was cold and ill-mannered, there was no way he would still want her.
Margaret finished with Vivienne's hair, fluffing it a bit so it cascaded in glossy waves down her back.
"You're ready, Vivienne. Now follow me." Margaret took Vivienne's hand and lead her out of the fairy room, the younger girls gawking as she went past. Some looked excited, some looked jealous, and still others seemed to share Vivienne's nervousness.
She gazed upon their faces for what felt like the last time as the heavy wooden door closed behind she and Margaret, shutting out the pastel colors and gentle light.