Her Perfect Match by Jess Michaels

from honesty and connection.
    He reached out to take her hand and smoothed his fingers over her palms gently. “Please,” he whispered.
    Vivien had never weakened to him. There were a few times he thought she might over the years, but something in her had always stopped her. Tonight, in the sparkling light of the fire, with his hand in hers, she couldn’t seem to harden her heart or protect her privacy or whatever it was that drove her to build so many walls between herself and anyone else who might see inside.
    She tilted her head, looked him straight in the eye and said, “I wish to destroy him.”
     
    Vivien shook her head as the words left her lips. What had she just done? Shared something from her private list of things to do? With him ?
    She shook his hand away and managed to push past him to her feet. She pulled her gown over her naked, flushed body and fastened the little buttons along the front without looking at him. Still, she felt his shocked stare burn into her back. And not just shocked at what she’d said, but that she had shared something so unexpected and personal.
    It was not her way, and for good reason.
    “Are you going to say something?” she asked, hardening herself as she spun on him.
    He stared up at her, but his expression was unreadable. Funny how they could reverse roles like that, her with her emotions wild, him calm and inscrutable.
    “No one deserves to be destroyed more than Dershingham,” he conceded.
    Her eyes went wide. That was all?
    But of course, it was not. Benedict sat up, still entirely naked and utterly distracting.
    “But what you suggest is madness, Vivien. A woman of your position—”
    She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “A woman of my position is the only kind who could stand up to someone like him.”
    He continued to stare at her with such focus that she felt the uncommon sensation of blood rushing to her cheeks. She turned away so he would not see it.  
    “I only meant that there would be a cost if you did so,” he said softly.
    “Yes,” she agreed, thinking of all the consequences that would very likely follow a public destruction of an important man. Funny how they did not trouble her anymore. The pain that would follow the action would be very brief since she intended to leave London.
    Benedict got up and continued, unaware of her thoughts. “You have built a life, a reputation, on your discretion. If you swing on this man, especially in a way that will be seen as public, you could violently alter your future.”
    Vivien mulled those words. Violently alter her future. Yes, that sounded perfect.
    She turned on him.
    “You say no one deserves destruction more—does that mean you know what he does?” she asked.
    Benedict shrugged. “He’s a cheat at cards, a miser with his family, there was some talk about a duel where the man opposite him was shot and permanently maimed under very questionable circumstances…”
    When she shook her head, he trailed off.
    “These are minor transgressions,” she whispered. “It is the servants who receive the worst consequences of his evil. Girls in his employ, especially the youngest of them…” She cleared her throat and blinked at a sudden sting behind her eyes. “Raped. Brutalized and tortured. If they try to leave, they are given poor references and cannot find new employment.”
    Benedict stepped back in shock, but his expression didn’t slow her pace. She continued, her voice cracking with emotion she could not control as the awful words continued to spill forth.
    “Some have had no choice but the streets as their escape. Others have remained in his employ. One girl killed herself last year, swallowed poison from the house and lived her last few days in agony in a barn because the bastard didn’t want to hear her cries in his halls, disturbing his supper. She was but fifteen at her death.”
    Benedict sucked in a breath and reached for his trousers. Once he was clothed, he shook his head. “I am