Two Little Lies

Prologue In which a Proposal of marriage is Received.Spring, 1821 Signorina Alessandri was ill. Again. With one hand restraining the flowing folds of her fine silk nightclothes, she lurched over the closestool in her Covent Garden flat and prayed, in fluent and fervid Italian, for death to take her. "Oh, please, miss, do speak English!" begged her maid, who had caught her heavy black hair, and drawn it back, too. "I can't make out a word. But I do think we'd best fetch a doctor." "Nonsense," said the signorina, clenching the back of the closestool in a white-knuckled fist. "It was the fish Lord Chesley served last night." The maid pursed her lips. "Aye, and what was it yesterday, miss?" she asked. "Not fish, I'll wager." With the other hand set at the small of her back, Viviana closed her eyes and somehow straightened up. "Silenzio, Lucy," she said softly. "We talk of it no further. The worst is over now." "Oh, I doubt that," said the maid. Viviana ignored her and went instead to the washbasin. "Where is the morning's post, per favore?" she asked, awkwardly slopping the bowl full of water. With a sigh, Lucy went into the parlor and returned with a salver which held one letter covered in Viviana's father's infamous scrawl, and a folded note which bore no address. "Mr. Hewitt's footman brought it," she said offhandedly. With hands that shook, Viviana finished her ablutions, then patted a towel across her damp face as her maid looked on in consternation. The girl had been both loyal and kind these many months. "Thank you, Lucy," she said. "Why do you not go have a cup of tea? I shall read my letter now." Lucy hesitated. "But do you not wish your bathwater brought, miss?" she pressed. " 'Tis already past noon. Mr. Hewitt will be here soon, won't he?" Quin. Lucy was right, of course. Viviana laid aside the towel and took the note. Quin usually came to her in the early afternoon. Yes, just as he meant to do today. And oh, how she longed for it -- yet dreaded it in the same breath. She tossed the note into the fire. She had not missed the furious looks he'd hurled her way in the theater's reception room after last night's performance. Viviana had sung gloriously, hitting every high note in her last aria with a chilling, crystal-clear resonance, before collapsing into her lover's arms in a magnificent swoon. The theater had been full, the applause thunderous. But all Quin had seemed to notice was what had come afterward. The compliments and congratulations of her admirers. The champagne toasts. The subtle, sexual invitations tossed her way by the lift of a brow or a tilt of the head -- and refused just as subtly in turn. It had not been refusal enough for Quin. One could hardly have ignored his cocky stance and sulky sneer as he paced the worn green carpet, a glass of brandy clutched in his hand. His uncle, Lord Chesley, had even had the effrontery to tease him about it. Quin had not taken that well. Nor had he been especially pleased to see Viviana leaving on Chesley's arm, as she so often did. And today, God help them, he would undoubtedly wish to quarrel over it. Viviana was not at all sure she was capable of mounting a spirited defense. But it almost didn't matter anymore. "Miss?" said the maid. "Your bathwater?" Nausea roiled in her stomach again, and Viviana moved gingerly to a chair. "In ten minutes, Lucy," she answered. "I shall read Papa's letter whilst my stomach settles. If I am late, I shall receive Mr. Hewitt here." Lucy pursed her lips again. "Aye, then," she finally answered. "But I'd be telling him straightaway, miss, about that bad fish if I was you." Finally, Viviana laughed. The fleeting humor did not sustain her as she opened heCarlyle, Liz is the author of 'Two Little Lies ', published 2005 under ISBN 9780743496117 and ISBN 0743496116.