One Sinful Night (21 page)

“Nicky Foster! What in the world are you doing here?” she exclaimed breathlessly.

He smiled lazily at her. “Coming to see you, darling.”

Vivienne burst out laughing at his remark. “Get on home, Nicky.”

She had known Nicky Foster her whole life. In fact when they were children he used to tease her and called her a witch, but she had been aware for some time that he was sweet on her. Being a few years older than her, he had never paid much attention to Vivienne until last year. Tall and handsome with fair skin, auburn hair, and clear blue eyes, he was a decent, hard-working, and straightforward man. All the girls she knew from town were mad for him and competing with each other to be his wife. Nicky had escorted her to a few local dances and socials and they had a nice enough time together. She even allowed him to kiss her on the lips once or twice.

Of course, that was before Aidan came home from school, and her whole life changed that day on the beach when out of nowhere Aidan kissed her. Now that was a kiss…a kiss that left her senses reeling and left her without a doubt that she loved Aidan. Since then her heart had belonged exclusively to Aidan and she had not given Nicky Foster another thought. But now, here was Nicky in their secret little cottage. With her half-dressed.

“Did you follow me here?” she asked him somewhat irritably, wondering how he knew she was there. She had always been very discreet, and so had Aidan.

He grinned at her, his lazy smile wide and full. “I'd follow you anywhere, Vivienne. You know that, don't you?”

She shook her head ruefully. “Oh, Nicky, I haven't been very fair to you, have I?”

“I can make you happier than Kavanaugh can,” he said, taking a step toward her. He possessed a beefy build with powerful muscles beneath his dusty work shirt. “We're the same kind of people, you and me.”

“I love Aidan,” she stated simply for that explained it all.

“You just love his money and fancy title. But he's not one of us. He's a gentleman. You don't belong with him and his kind. Besides, I know how it was when I kissed you. You're the girl for me, Vivienne.”

She laughed at him again. “Oh, and I suppose you've said the same things to Bridget McDermott and Eileen Judge, for I saw you out walking with them just last week.”

He reached out a hand to her, his voice serious and intent. “They don't mean anything to me. I've had to save face since you've been with Kavanaugh all summer, but it's you I love.”

She took his hand and squeezed it gently, feeling a little guilty for how she had brushed him off. “Oh, Nicky. I'm sorry. But I love Aidan, and he loves me. You must know we're getting married.”

Before she realized what he was doing, he pulled her to him so that she was pressed against his solid chest, his thick arms locked around her. “So I've heard. But you're not married. Not yet, anyway.”

His mouth lowered over hers and he kissed her hard, in spite of her pushing against him. Vivienne could not believe this was happening, and if not for the insistent bruising force of his mouth on hers she would have laughed at the absurdity of Nicky thinking he could take her away from Aidan. Aidan, who would be there any minute and would set Nicky straight once and for all.

Nicky continued kissing her, his tongue forcefully entering her mouth. She kept trying to push him away, but he was a big fellow and Vivienne was no match for him in physical strength. She did not realize that, as she struggled against him, she had lost the grip on the front of her dress. Nicky, however, noticing her bare breasts, became even more aroused, and lowered her roughly to the pallet in one swift movement.

Apprehension engulfed her, for she had been waiting to seduce Aidan and ended up with Nicky Foster on top of her with his tongue in her mouth and his big hands on her breasts. That would teach her to play the temptress. Torn between screaming and laughing, for she couldn't for one minute think that Nicky actually meant to hurt her, she pushed at him with her hands.

“Nicky, please,” she implored, out of breath.

“Vivienne!” Aidan's outraged voice echoed through the cottage.

Nicky turned his head slowly in the direction of the doorway, but did not let go of her. Vivienne twisted beneath him to see Aidan's shocked expression as he stared at her. Until the day she died she would never forget the look on his face as he saw her half-naked with Nicky Foster on top of her. His green eyes were wounded, hurt, angry. He stared at her accusingly, disbelievingly. His face was a portrait in absolute devastation.

With a sickening sense of dread, she realized what Aidan perceived was happening. Before she could blink, he whispered her name, turned, and left the cottage.

She called to him frantically while Nicky finally had the good sense to let her go. With trembling hands she pulled her dress together. The look on Aidan's face scared her more than she had ever been scared of anything in her life. She needed to talk to Aidan and explain, make him see that it wasn't what it looked like. Maybe he just needed some time to cool down, and then he would see how silly the whole thing had been.

“I'm sorry, Vivienne,” Nicky said haltingly. “I had no idea…”

She looked at him blankly, her mind reeling with the implications of what just happened. Surely Aidan didn't believe she was really with Nicky Foster. “Go home, Nicky.”

He turned toward the door but looked back at Vivienne and apologized again.

“Just go,” she whispered.

“If you need anything, I'm here for you.” He looked at her regretfully, then went out the door.

For a split second, she thought that was an odd statement to make, but it barely registered. As she dressed with shaking hands and a knot in her stomach, she reproached herself for trying to act the temptress for Aidan. If she had been properly attired and had been more forceful against Nicky's overtures instead of laughing at him, Aidan would not have jumped to the conclusions he obviously had. After she had fixed her hair and was dressed completely once more, she slowly and carefully gathered up the remnants of their forgotten picnic lunch. She followed the meandering path to Cashelwood Manor deep in thought.

The way Aidan reacted had frightened her.

The liveried servant who answered the door when she knocked confirmed her worst suspicions when he informed her that Lord Kavanaugh did not wish to see her. On the verge of tears, she pleaded with the man to please tell Aidan that she needed to see him desperately. He shook his head imperiously and closed the door.

For the first time in her life, Vivienne did not know what to do. She needed to explain to him, but it seemed Aidan did not want to listen to her. Hiding behind his servants to turn her away, he wouldn't even face her. He had dismissed her and that angered her. How could he believe such an awful thing of her? That she would cast aside his love for another so easily? Her sadness then turned to anger as she marched home. Let him be stubborn then! If he was so quick to doubt her love for him, well, then…Maybe he didn't deserve her love!

By the time she arrived at her doorstep she had worked herself into a fine state of rage. Slamming the door shut, she startled poor Aggie, who jumped up from the sofa where she'd been sewing.

“Good Lord, child, you gave me a fright!” the older woman asked edgily, her sharp eyes taking in the stormy look on her granddaughter's face. “What's gotten into you?”

“Aidan Kavanaugh's gotten into me, that's what! He's impossible! That high and mighty—” Vivienne suddenly stopped, burst into tears, and ran to her grandmother. She cried as she had never cried before in her life. All the fear, hurt, and confusion of the last hour poured from her without restraint.

Aggie wrapped her arms around Vivienne and the two of them sank to the flower-print sofa. Vivienne sobbed into her grandmother's chest, taking comfort in her loving and reassuring arms, arms that had held her since she was a baby. Her gentle, care-worn hands stroked Vivienne's back in long, soothing motions.

“There, there,” Aggie crooned softly. “I'm sure it's not as bad as all that.”

“He won't talk to me,” Vivienne cried, barely getting the words out between wrenching sobs. “How can I explain anything to him if he won't even see me?”

“Explain what?”

At that Vivienne sobbed louder. How could she possibly describe to Aggie what took place in the cottage when she wasn't even sure herself? It all happened too quickly. Waiting for Aidan. Nicky Foster appearing out of nowhere and relentlessly making advances on her. The sheer ridiculousness of the thought of her and Nicky together. Her protests against him. And Aidan standing before her, a mixed expression of complete revulsion and utter devastation. Her own panic and horror. That afternoon would haunt her forever.

Aidan hadn't come to her rescue. He'd believed her to be with Nicky Foster willingly.

The fact that Aidan wouldn't see her terrified her. His action seemed final. The signal of the end of everything between them. Cold fear clenched her stomach with the dreadful certainty that she had lost Aidan forever. Aidan whom she loved more than life. Aidan who was supposed to marry her.

Aggie rocked her back and forth, but Vivienne continued to sob, incapable of speaking and unable to explain to her what had gone so terribly wrong.

 

Vivienne attempted to see Aidan the following day and was once again coldly turned away from Cashelwood Manor. She raced to their cottage, hoping against hope that he might come to look for her there. When she saw that the windows had been boarded up and the door padlocked, her heart broke. Their little cottage was not theirs any longer. He had completely shut her out, without even giving her a chance to explain.

By the third day she went to Cashelwood determined to see him even if she had to break down the front door. Instead, she received devastating news from the skeleton staff left to tend the manor.

Aidan and his mother were gone. They had left for England that morning. The house was packed up and they were gone for good. After everything that happened between the two of them, Aidan left without so much as a word of goodbye to her.

For days Vivienne cried inconsolably, torn between fits of outrageous anger and heartbreaking grief that he could so easily walk away from her, from what they had, from their plans for their life together without a backward glance. Without even letting her explain. She took to her bed, not leaving her room, and cried. She could not eat a thing for the heartbreak left her physically incapacitated, and she slept fitfully, waking in the middle of the night to cry, and aching with longing for Aidan to hold her in his strong arms again.

After a week Aggie finally could take no more and dragged Vivienne out of bed, made her bathe, and forced her to sit at the kitchen table.

“That's enough now,” Aggie declared firmly. “I'll not abide any more of this self-pity. You must get up and face the world again. It's not doing anyone any good to behave this way.”

“I just want to die,” Vivienne whimpered, wiping her red and swollen eyes with a handkerchief.

“Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.” Aggie quipped as she set a bowl of hot stew in front of her.

“Then I wish Aidan dies.”

Aggie laughed heartily at that. “There's a bit of your spirit back!”

“I just miss him,” Vivienne began plaintively. “I just don't understand—”

“Enough.” Aggie interrupted in an authoritative tone that brooked no argument. “You're not hurting him with these histrionics. He's not here to care if you cry your eyes out or if you starve yourself to death. You're only hurting yourself. We've been over and around and under all of this a thousand times this week and we may never know what prompted our Aidan to take the steps he did. He was definitely wounded by seeing you with Nicky Foster. But he's gone now and he may never be back. So get used to it. Get on with your life.”

“But you said he loved me, Aggie. You said we would get married.”

A shadow crossed Aggie's fine features and a pained expression appeared in her knowing eyes. Slowly she nodded her head. “That I did, my dear, but I must have been mistaken.”

Vivienne began to weep into her handkerchief again, overcome with emotions and distress.

“That's enough, I said,” Aggie repeated, but more kindly than she had before, taking Vivienne's hand in hers. “You must regain your strength, Vivienne. I raised you to be a strong woman. And you're going to need your strength now. You have some other troubles to face.”

Looking at her grandmother through her streaming tears, Vivienne asked, “What could possibly be worse than losing Aidan?”

Aggie gave her a pointed look. “Facing the scandal that Aidan left in the wake of his disappearance.”

Puzzled, she questioned with a sniffle, “What scandal?”

“Oh, it's all over town that Aidan caught you half-dressed in Nicky Foster's arms, called off the wedding, and fled to England. The talk has been terrible about you and how it's my fault because I've let you run wild all your life. And Nicky's strutting about town like a proud peacock. He's been by a few times to see you while you were sulking in your room, but I sent him away. Although he had the decency to ask me for your hand in marriage.”

Stunned enough to stop crying, Vivienne breathed deeply. “Oh, this is too much. What should I do?”

“You have some decisions to make. You can accept Nicky Foster's proposal of marriage—”

“I will never marry Nicky Foster!” she exclaimed vehemently.

“You can accept his proposal,” Aggie continued as if Vivienne had not spoken, “and get on with your life, or know that no man in this town will ever marry you believing you have been with Aidan and Nicky both.”

Vivienne's chin went up. “I don't care. I don't want to marry any of them anyway. I don't want to marry anyone but Aidan,” her voice caught in her throat, “and if I can't have him, then I won't ever get married.”