Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 11
Percival’s mind raced as the pieces began to fall into place. Vivienne—the Vivienne—was the very person he’d been searching for, the one who had unknowingly been at the center of this whirlwind. She was part of the Hawthorn family, the family his own had been so entangled with for years. The realization struck him like a jolt, and despite himself, he found a smile creeping onto his face. If his fiancée turned out to be Vivienne, perhaps this entire ordeal wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Vivienne, however, was not nearly as thrilled. She hadn’t expected to encounter Percival here, and the surprise showed on her face when Beatrice introduced them. Her gaze flicked to Percival’s wheelchair, and for a moment, she couldn’t suppress a small, involuntary smile—one that she quickly hid. Percival caught it, but said nothing, his expression betraying nothing but quiet frustration.
When Beatrice made the connection clear—”This is Percival, your fiancé”—Vivienne’s shock deepened. Her polite smile faltered, and she nodded, trying her best to remain composed. So this was the man I saved? she thought, though her mind quickly shot down any thought of feeling sympathy for him now that she knew the full truth. The marriage, if anything, was a strategic move from both families, not something she was personally invested in.
Percival, for his part, had long given up on the idea of calling off the engagement. It was clear that he was stuck with it, no matter how much he didn’t want to go through with it. Yet, Vivienne’s composed demeanor made him pause—there was no contempt in her eyes, no judgment of his disability, unlike Arabella. He couldn’t help but feel a shift in his attitude. She wasn’t like the others.
The room grew awkwardly quiet, broken only by Percival’s voice. “Ms. Hawthorn, I think you may have misunderstood me,” he said, his tone as calm as it was determined. “What I said that day was, don’t call off the engagement.”
Vivienne blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. The audacity of the man! He seemed so calm, so composed in the face of everything. Who was he to dictate my actions?
Leopold and Thomas exchanged confused glances, unsure how to process the dramatic shift in Percival’s stance. Richard, on the other hand, seemed to find the whole situation amusing. He knew how hard it had been to get Percival to agree to any part of this engagement. But now, Percival was acting as though it was a done deal. Richard chuckled, turning to Percival with a wink. “It seems you’ve had a change of heart, my boy.”
Vivienne didn’t have the patience for games. “I’m sorry, Mr. Richard. I’m still too young and not ready for marriage yet. I’m sure Mr. Ellington will find someone better suited to him.” Her voice was cool, firm. “Let’s just call off the engagement.”
But Percival wasn’t backing down that easily. “I’m disabled. I may not be able to find another partner. But here’s a chance at marriage, and I can’t let it slip away.” His voice softened, but there was something almost pleading in it, something raw that he rarely showed.
Vivienne stared at him for a moment, processing his words. She didn’t want this engagement—she wasn’t ready for it, didn’t feel ready for any of this—but her practical side took over. “Fine,” she said, her decision made. “Let’s get engaged in five days. But I want the marriage to be arranged by the Hawthorn family. I don’t know if you have any other thoughts about that?”
Percival nodded almost immediately, his earlier stiffness giving way to a more relaxed, cheerful tone. “We’ll go with your arrangement.”
As the group left, Leopold couldn’t help but feel something shift in the air. His thoughts were too preoccupied with Vivienne’s earlier stare. “Did you notice that Miss Hawthorn was looking at me the whole time?” he asked, a hopeful grin spreading across his face.
Percival, glancing at him with a mix of amusement and slight annoyance, raised an eyebrow. “I noticed.”
Leopold’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Do you think she might have feelings for me?”
Percival’s expression grew dark and sharp. “She was staring at you because you’re not good-looking,” he said flatly, his words cutting through Leopold’s excitement like a knife.
Leopold went silent, his face falling, but he couldn’t help but feel a small pang of embarrassment mixed with an unshakable sense of determination.
Back at the Hawthorn mansion, Dorian was less than pleased with the events that had unfolded. “Who gave you the right to decide for Vivienne?” he demanded of Beatrice. “I told you she won’t marry him.”
Beatrice simply shrugged, her gaze steady as she watched Dorian’s frustration. “I’m giving you five days to think it over,” she said casually, as if the matter wasn’t of grave importance. She sat back, sipping from her tea cup. “And don’t think I’m not considerate. Without the protection of the Hawthorn family, I’m not sure how you’d survive. Thaddeus’s school enrollment—that’s something you should be worried about.”
Dorian’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re using him against me?”
Beatrice smiled thinly. “Think carefully, Dorian. You’re not in a position to make demands.”
She dismissed him with a wave, and Dorian reluctantly left with Vivienne and Cordelia.
Arabella, sensing an opportunity, approached Beatrice, massaging her shoulders gently. “Do you think Dad will agree?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Beatrice closed her eyes, savoring the moment of peace. “He will. You know, without a place to stay, and no job… how could he not? Everyone has their breaking point, Arabella. Even the proudest man must bend eventually.”
Arabella’s gaze hardened, a calculating light flashing in her eyes. “What if Dad already has a place to stay?”
Beatrice snorted dismissively. “Then let him enjoy his temporary comfort. With the money he has, he wouldn’t be able to find anything stable. And besides, I’ve made sure most people in this city won’t dare go against me.”
Arabella’s tension eased, but only slightly.
