Chapter 357: her own thoughts II

Chapter 357: Chapter 357: her own thoughts II

A laugh escaped between her fingers.

This was getting out of hand.

Except the thought wouldn’t go away.

If anything, it became more attractive the longer she considered it.

She wanted Christopher.

She wanted marriage.

She wanted a family.

And apparently—

She wanted all of it considerably sooner than she had realized.

Vivienne slowly lowered her hands.

Oh.

Well.

That was new.

Her mother had told her to consider ending a relationship that had existed for forty-eight hours.

Somehow, Vivienne had taken that perfectly reasonable advice and arrived at—

I would rather marry him.

Her lips twitched.

Mother would be thrilled.

Because if marrying Christopher now were actually an option—

Vivienne paused.

Now?

Her heart gave a strange little jump.

Yes.

She already knew what her answer would be.

Which left one rather important problem.

Christopher.

Would Christopher actually want to marry her?

Vivienne went still.

Ah.

Right.

Him.

Rather important.

She had somehow considered family outrage, elopement, reconciliation, university and future children—

Without consulting the prospective husband.

Vivienne laughed.

They had been together for forty-eight hours.

Forty-eight.

And she was already mentally standing in front of him saying—

My family thinks you’re unsuitable. Want to get married instead?

She buried her face in her pillow.

No.

Absolutely not.

Except—

Christopher already knew she wanted marriage.

She had told him yesterday.

I’m the kind of person that, if I’m with someone, it’s because I’m thinking about it seriously.

Then—

I’d want it to lead to marriage someday.

And, mortifyingly—

I think I’d be a great wife.

Vivienne groaned.

And a great mother to your—

She hadn’t even finished that sentence.

It still haunted her.

So Christopher knew she wasn’t looking for something temporary.

And considering he had since told her he loved her—

Well.

That certainly wasn’t discouraging.

But I love you and I would like to marry you immediately were still two very different statements.

Vivienne frowned.

Christopher was already graduating.

His university years were practically over.

But what came afterward?

Did he want to establish himself first?

Begin a career?

Wait until she graduated?

Three years?

Vivienne frowned.

Three whole years still sounded unnecessarily long.

Twenty-five?

Thirty?

Her expression changed.

Thirty?

Absolutely not.

She had already spent eight years waiting for eventually once.

She wasn’t doing that again simply because thirty sounded like an appropriately adult age to settle down.

But that was what she wanted.

Christopher might imagine something completely different.

Dating while she finished university.

Marriage afterward.

Perhaps several years after that.

Or—

Could he actually want what she wanted?

Marriage while she was still at St. Albion.

Sooner.

Much sooner.

Preferably—

Well.

Now would be nice.

Vivienne covered her face.

Two days.

She had been his girlfriend for two days.

She needed to retain at least a little dignity.

Then another thought occurred to her.

What if she told him what Mother had said?

Her amusement faded.

Christopher deserved to know if her family intended to oppose them.

But how was she supposed to explain it?

Christopher, my grandfather thinks your family are social climbers.

Vivienne winced.

Awful.

He also thinks being Prime Minister apparently doesn’t compensate for the unfortunate tragedy of not being born a duke.

Worse.

Christopher would be insulted.

Vivienne certainly would be.

The Archibalds had been wealthy for generations.

Edmund Archibald had become Prime Minister.

Charles Archibald was Prime Minister now.

And apparently Grandfather could look at all of that and still think—

Not good enough.

Would Christopher care?

Would his family?

Vivienne paused.

She had spent all this time wondering whether the Beaumonts would accept Christopher.

But she would be marrying him.

And if the Beaumonts refused—

She already knew what she would do.

Marry him anyway.

The ease of that realization should probably have bothered her more.

Vivienne cared about the Beaumonts.

The original Vivienne’s memories made it impossible not to.

Mother wasn’t a stranger.

Neither was Father.

Even Grandfather felt familiar, though Vivienne hadn’t actually seen him since transmigrating.

She remembered family dinners she had never eaten.

Birthdays she had never celebrated.

Conversations she had never personally spoken.

The memories carried affection with them.

Familiarity.

The instinctive sense that these people were family.

But they were still inherited memories.

Vivienne herself had arrived in this world a little over two months ago and gone to St. Albion the next day.

There was a difference between remembering a lifetime with someone and actually having lived it.

So yes—

Losing the Beaumonts would hurt.

Hurting them would hurt.

But if she were forced to choose between them and Christopher—

Christopher.

The answer came easily.

Perhaps too easily.

But it came.

She wasn’t willing to lose him merely to remain an obedient Beaumont daughter.

And considering how deeply they loved her—

Their daughter.

Their granddaughter.

The girl they remembered raising for nineteen years—

Vivienne still found it difficult to believe they would stay away forever.

They could be furious.

She could survive that.

She could repair things later.

But she would marry Christopher first.

Vivienne stared at the ceiling.

Forty-eight hours ago, Christopher had become her boyfriend.

Now she had apparently decided she would risk the Beaumont family to become his wife.

Wonderful.

Except—

Wait.

Her brows slowly drew together.

What if choosing Christopher cost her more than their anger?

What if the Beaumonts refused to acknowledge the marriage?

Or refused to acknowledge her?

Vivienne’s expression changed.

Oh.

That was different.

Right now she was Lady Vivienne Beaumont.

Daughter of a duke.

Granddaughter of the Beaumont patriarch.

A member of one of the oldest noble families in the country.

But if she defied them so completely that they no longer acknowledged her—

What exactly would she be bringing into a marriage with Christopher?

Not the Beaumont family.

Not their approval.

Possibly not their connections.

Just—

Herself.

Vivienne stared at the ceiling.

Would the Archibalds still want her?

That was considerably less amusing.

Christopher loved her.

But Christopher wasn’t the entire Archibald family.

Charles Archibald was the Prime Minister.

Edmund Archibald had held the same office before him.

They were enormously wealthy and politically powerful.

Surely they had expectations for Christopher’s marriage too.

And there was an enormous difference between—

Christopher wants to marry Lady Vivienne Beaumont, daughter of the Duke of Beaumont.

And—

Christopher wants to marry Vivienne, who defied the Beaumonts and may no longer have their support.

Would that matter?

Would Charles Archibald think she had behaved recklessly?

Would Edmund?

Would they look at a nineteen-year-old girl who had defied her family after dating their son for two days and think—

Absolutely not.

Vivienne winced.

When phrased like that—

It sounded terrible.

And what if Grandfather made it clear there would be no reconciliation?

No Beaumont support.

No connections.

No acknowledgment.

Vivienne had been assuming that if her family shut one door, she could simply walk through Christopher’s.

But that door didn’t belong to Christopher alone.

There was an entire family standing behind it.

A family she barely knew.

And she had no idea whether they would welcome her.

Vivienne swallowed.

Her own family?

She believed they would eventually come around.

Christopher’s?

She couldn’t assume anything.

And if they didn’t approve—

Would Christopher still marry her?

Without the Beaumonts behind her?

Without the prestigious alliance?

If all she brought him was—

Herself?

Her heart gave a strange little squeeze.

That she wanted to know.

Because suddenly the question wasn’t whether Christopher Archibald was good enough for Lady Vivienne Beaumont.

Vivienne already knew the answer to that.

The question was whether Christopher—and the Archibalds—would still want Vivienne if choosing him meant she ceased to be a Beaumont in every way that mattered.

Well.

That had become considerably more complicated.

And she couldn’t answer it alone.

She would have to talk to Christopher.

Not—

Would you like to elope with me this weekend?

Obviously.

Vivienne laughed weakly.

Maybe not that.

But she could tell him what Mother had said.

See how he reacted.

Find out what he thought about her family.

His family.

Marriage.

The future.

And perhaps—

Eventually—

Whether he wanted her badly enough that the Beaumont name didn’t matter.

That was reasonable.

Much more reasonable than planning an elopement without consulting the groom.

Although—

She really should know how much money she had.

Useful information regardless.

Vivienne glanced at the time.

11:30 a.m.

She stared.

What?

How was it already eleven-thirty?

She had spent the morning thinking about Christopher, marriage, children, family feuds, disinheritance and hypothetical elopements.

Oh, God.

Fine.

Shower first.

Bank account later.

Hypothetical elopement much, much later.

She climbed out of bed.

She had lunch to eat.

Clothes to choose.

A polo match to attend.

And a boyfriend she had absolutely no intention of breaking up with.

Vivienne walked toward the bathroom.

Two steps later, she stopped.

Then glanced back at her phone.

Would Christopher marry her now, though?

Not Lady Vivienne Beaumont.

Not the duke’s daughter.

Not a useful connection to an old noble family.

Just—

Her.

Vivienne’s lips slowly curved.

Hm.

That was the problem.

Then she continued toward the bathroom.