Free Maggie MacKeever by Our Tabby Page A

not seem entirely chivalrous of you to demand a reward.”
    “Chivalrous?” Vivien quirked a brow. “You forget my reputation. It was not by being chivalrous that I earned my name.”
    “Nor is it by being chivalrous that you live up to it, I gather!” Tabby retorted wryly. “I begin to think myself doubly fortunate that you interfered with that odious officer on my behalf.”
    Vivien stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb. “Chivalry played no part here, either, my dear. I could not stand by and watch another man take what I wanted myself.”
    Here was plain speaking! Tabby stared at the marble floor. Then she realized that, of course, he was not serious. “You are in a very teasing mood, I think!” she murmured.
    In a teasing mood, was he? Vivien glanced down the passageway. The other guests having withdrawn to the banqueting rooms to discover what culinary delights awaited, he and Tabby had the Oriental hallway to themselves. It made a very romantic setting. “No, I do not jest,” he said, and moved his hands to cup her face.
    He was going to kiss her. Tabby knew that she should flee. Common sense was outflanked by the combined effects of champagne and Ermyntrude’s reckless gown. Vivien’s hand moved over her bare shoulders, her arms. She shivered.
    Her bemused expression was absurdly touching. “Come away with me,” Vivien said huskily. “Now.”
    Where did he want her to go? Tabby wished she might find out. Honor demanded that she carry out her duty to Sir Geoffrey. “I cannot,” she said.
    Vivien’s hands tightened. “Why not? You’ll want for nothing. If there’s some, er, impediment, I’ll buy him off.”
    Tabby blinked. “Good heavens! You’re offering me carte blanche!”
    Vivien was not accustomed to having his offers of patronage greeted with astonishment. “I’ve made a mistake, it appears,” he said, and released her. “Pray accept my apologies.”
    How cross he looked. Tabby thought Vivien seldom blundered in matters such as this. “Don’t regard it!” she said kindly. “It is no wonder that you thought I was a bit o’—that you thought what you did. This dreadful gown would lead anyone to that conclusion, and my own behavior was not, well, er!”
    Vivien was charmed by her confusion. “Shall we cry pax?” he said. “I have both rescued and abused you, so perhaps we may now be friends.”
    “I should like that.” Tabby glanced shyly up at him. “You did not abuse me so very much, you know.”
    Vivien knew that he would like to abuse her further, so winsome did she look. He was spared putting his willpower to the test by the sound of a distant voice calling his name. Tabby recognized that voice also. She looked wildly about her, as if she might seek refuge behind an illusory Chinese tree.
    “Wait!” Vivien caught her wrist. “We are friends now, so you must trust me a little bit. Won’t you tell me who you are?”
    Quite naturally, Tabby did no such thing—although, truth be told, her reticence sprang less from a desire to protect her employer and his family than from a desire to spare herself the mortification that such a confession must bring. If Vivien were to think of her again, unlikely as the prospect seemed, let him remember her as a woman of mystery rather than a lowly governess embarked on a charade.
    Sara’s voice came closer. “Vivien!” She sounded as though she would momentarily appear around the bend of the hallway.
    “Oh, please!” gasped Tabby. “You must let me go!”
    Vivien knew he must release her, for both their sakes. Did Sara discover them together, nothing would prevent her from raising an almighty fuss. But he would not give up his advantage. “Your name!” he said again.
    He demanded a name? Then Tabby must give him one. But what, if not her own? And not Elphinstone?
    “Vivien!” Sara’s voice came closer still; her footsteps echoed down the hall. “Quarles!” gasped Tabby. Vivien released her, and she fled.
     

Chapter