by Platt, Meara
She made her way into the garden, needing to be alone for a moment. The night was overcast, the clouds covering the moon and stars. The breeze was laden with moisture and carried the scent of lilacs, the heady fragrance filling the air.
She was alone no more than a moment before Jameson came up to her. “Violet, this is important to me. I need to know that you’ll help.”
“I told you I would think about it.” She took a step back when he attempted to take her hand. “Go away, Jameson.”
“You wound me to turn me away. Please don’t spurn me, you bewitching creature.”
She rolled her eyes. There was that word again. Creature. No one had ever called her that before, and now she’d heard it twice in one night. “Oh, for pity’s sake. Do not insult me by pretending you have the slightest interest in me.”
“I’m not pretending. You were always a pretty girl, but you’ve grown into a ravishingly beautiful woman. You are like a magnificent butterfly just sprung from its cocoon.” He suddenly took her by the arms, his touch light enough, but entirely inappropriate.
She didn’t struggle, for she didn’t fear him. He wasn’t a brute, just a pampered, idiot lord. “This butterfly would like you to let go of her. Nor will I sing for you if you continue your ridiculous behavior, so take your flattery elsewhere.”
“I meant every word. If you won’t help me with the charity, then indulge me by granting me a kiss.” His grip tightened on her arms.
She sighed in exasperation. “Go back inside and leave me alone, Jameson. Don’t insult me by attempting to steal a kiss. You are certainly not going to be the first man I kiss. So, let go of me before I do you bodily harm.”
He laughed and held his hands up as he drew them away. “There. See. I can be a gentleman.”
“I don’t know about that,” Romulus said, catching both of them off guard as he came up from behind. “Get out of here, Forester.”
Jameson gave an extravagant bow and backed into Lady Dayne’s parlor where the men had now joined the ladies.
Violet let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thank goodness he left without incident. The man was giving me a headache. I had no desire to use physical force on him, but I would have done so if he’d attempted to kiss me.”
“Physical force? Against him? You aren’t strong enough, Violet. He would have gotten his way.” Romulus folded his arms across his chest. “Why are you out here alone?”
“To escape all of you.” She mimicked his stance. “Why are you out here? Won’t your precious Lady Felicia miss you?”
“No. She couldn’t care less about me.”
“Are we speaking of the same woman? Your old friend? She couldn’t keep her hands off you.”
“That was for your benefit. She was bored and this is how she amuses herself. What did Forester want? You seemed to be having an intense dinner conversation.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d noticed. Your eyes were on Lady Felicia and her scantily clad bosom the entire time.” She groaned. “Oh, I sounded quite bitter and jealous, didn’t I?”
He sighed. “We’re both out of sorts. If Forester hadn’t taken his hands off you, I would have hurt him, probably broken some part of him, and then tossed him into Lady Dayne’s rose bushes.”
“Jameson is harmless. You needn’t have worried. Besides, I know how to defend myself.”
“I don’t know about that,” he muttered.
“What? That he’s harmless or that I can defend myself?”
“Both, I suppose. There’s something about him I don’t like. Perhaps it’s that he was so attentive to you.” He cast her a wry grin. “I can be bitter and jealous, too.”
Her annoyance eased, and she laughed softly. “Good to know I’m not the only one out of sorts tonight.”
“Are you busy tomorrow morning? Let’s meet by the bench and go through more of that book.”
“The Book of Love?”
He nodded. “I think we both need to learn how to trust each other.”
“Agreed, but how do we build a lifetime’s worth of trust in less than a week?”
Chapter Eight
The day was once again overcast and breezy, but there was no sign of rain. Violet was up early, as was her routine, so after washing and dressing, she decided to write a letter to St. Aubrey’s abbess, Sister Ursula, about the condition of the orphanage buildings and what needed to be done. She did not know if Sister Ursula’s response would come in time. Still, she thought it important to let her know what was planned.
Although Jameson had been his usual, irritating self, he was trying to do a good deed and she wished to help him. Also, it was rather flattering of him to think of her singing talent as a means to raise funds for this charitable cause.
She walked downstairs and had just given the letter to Pruitt to post, when her aunt bustled into the entry hall. “Aunt Sophie, would you mind if I invited some friends of mine to tea tomorrow? Lord Jameson Forester and his sister, Lady Rawley.”
Sophie smiled. “The Foresters? They are friends of your parents, are they not?”
Violet nodded. “Their father and mine are best of friends. I know Jameson and Valerie quite well, although I haven’t seen them in a few years. The marquis relied on my parents to help him through the difficult months after his wife died. We saw a lot of him and his children back then.”
“They are most welcome, my dear. Give me their direction and I’ll send off an invitation at once.”
She hugged her aunt. “Thank you, I don’t know how we would all get along without you.”
Her aunt laughed. “I think you’d all manage quite well. I’ve spent most of these past five years in a fog. Each daughter having her come-out, each one botched spectacularly. But it all worked out in spite of the mistakes I made.”
“I don’t think loving your children can ever be a mistake.”
“No, but sometimes we parents must learn to hold our tongues and trust our children to do what’s best for themselves, not to push them into doing what we think is best.”
“Ah, yes. Trust.” She nodded. “I think I must work on that as well. It’s very hard to trust someone you’ve only known for a day or two.”
“You are referring to Romulus Brayden, I assume. Yes, it is difficult. Those bonds take time to develop.”
Violet took her aunt’s arm as they walked into the breakfast room. The men had already left for the day, and none of the other relatives had come down yet, so they had a rare moment alone. “Unless Lady Withnall relents and agrees to keep quiet about what she saw, I only have one week to learn all I can about him. Last night did not go well for us.”
“Ah, I saw him with the Marquis of Herringdon’s widow, Lady Felicia. The woman was relentless, never leaving him alone.”
“Hard to miss, weren’t they? She knew just how to bring out the worst in me. I turned into a green-eyed monster. And I don’t even have green eyes.”
Her aunt shook her head and laughed again. “Violet, I can only say that the Braydens are men of honor. I don’t think Romulus will lie to you about his feelings for Lady Felicia. If he likes her, he will tell you straight out. The truth may hurt, but it is best to know exactly where you stand with him.”
When the clock struck ten, Violet walked into the garden to await Romulus. She was surprised to find him already seated on the bench, his legs stretched before him and his hands propped behind his head as he watched the passing clouds, obviously lost in thought.
“Is it too early to talk about love?” she asked, casting him a hesitant smile. She took a seat beside him and opened her book where they’d left off yesterday.
He appeared relieved to see her, for he responded with a warm smile of his own. “Never too early for that. Shall we talk about last night first?”
“Which travesty would you like to discuss? Shall we start with Lady Withnall? Lady Felicia? Or Lord Forester?”
He winced. “I’d like to shoot all three of them out of my ship’
s cannons and watch them drop straight into the ocean.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
He sat up straighter. “Violet, I won’t deny there was more between Lady Felicia and myself in the past. It was never anything serious, for she fully intended to marry the Marquis of Herringdon.”
“But she’s a widow now, and from what I hear, wealthy. She is free to marry whomever she chooses. This time, she can marry for love.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Felicia loves herself more than she can ever love any man. More important, I would never offer for her.”
“You wouldn’t? Why not?” Violet did not doubt him, but she was curious as to his reluctance.
“A thousand reasons. She would demand separate sleeping quarters, for one.”
“Isn’t this customary? Am I not the one out of step with such arrangements?” She tipped her head up and looked at him with some confusion.
“Yes, you are delightfully out of step. But so am I. This is what I would want in a marriage, a wife who wishes to sleep in my arms. A wife who would never consider taking on other lovers to stem her boredom.”
“Romulus,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “I don’t think any woman would ever find you boring.”
“Now, see…” He leaned forward so that they were almost nose to nose. “This is why I would choose you over her always. You may decide that I am boring once you get to know me better, but you would not respond by turning your back on the marriage and discreetly, or not so discreetly, taking on other lovers.”
“What do you think I would do?” She knew she was young and inexperienced, but the possibility of giving her body to other men? It wasn’t done in the Farthingale family. She couldn’t imagine herself breaking this tradition.
He cupped her face gently in his big hand. “You would find a way to make me less boring. Or you would accept me for the dolt I am. The point is, you are capable of caring for others and placing their needs before yours. Of course, being a pig-headed, prideful male, I would want to be the one sacrificing to make you happy, not the other way around.”
“Would you really?”
“Yes.” He dropped his hand and eased slightly back. “But I suppose you’ll just have to trust me on that. Violet, let’s get back to the book.”
“Very well.” She opened it to where they’d left off. “We stopped yesterday at the five senses. The strength of this book is teaching us to really see each other, and hear each other, and so on. So, let’s start with the sense of sight. What do you see when you look at me?”
“Someone very pleasing to the eye.” He grinned. “But I think we’ve already established that low brain response.”
She nodded. “So on to looking at me with your higher brain function.”
He chuckled. “Assuming I have one. Well, here goes…you have the loveliest eyes I’ve ever seen. Violet…”
“Yes?”
He shook his head. “I just mean that they’re violet in color. They’re intelligent eyes. That’s why they sparkle. Otherwise, they’d be dull. You have nice lips. I look forward to tasting them, but I’m jumping ahead a few chapters, aren’t I? That’s my low brain taking over again.”
He cleared his throat and continued. “You are beautiful in a sweet, warm way. I like that, because it means you can also be silly and fun. You don’t care if your hair isn’t always perfect.”
She gasped and put her hands to her hair. “Is it falling out of its pins already?”
“No.” He laughed.
She cast him a sheepish grin. “It appears I am vain.”
“It will take much more than worrying about your hair to make you vain. We all wish to look presentable in company. But if the wind were to gust and make those pins fall out of your hair, you’d probably laugh and simply accept it.”
She nodded. “There is nothing one can do against the wind other than don a hat and hope it stays on.”
“A vain person would be angry with the brazen wind for making them less than perfect.”
“Ah, well that is not a problem for me. I already know I am less than perfect.” She cast him an impish grin.
He regarded her unsmiling, but after a moment, his severe expression lightened. “I think you are closer to perfect than you imagine.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Well, that’s a big step forward. Truth is, I am very far from it. But if you believe I am, then we have made great strides. This is what The Book of Love says is most important. My goal is to become your ideal woman. Others may find me lacking, but it is your opinion of me that matters. But do you mean it, Romulus? I heard you tell Lady Felicia I’m not your usual type.”
“You aren’t. The comment you overheard was about my poor judgement, not about your lack in any way. But that’s all in the past and ought to remain buried there, never to be dug up again.”
She laughed. “Goodness, now I’m curious to know what you did back then. My past was exceedingly dull.” She laughed again. “Nothing in the least scandalous or exciting until those bees came along.”
“Ah, yes. I was warned about the Chipping Way curse and chose to ignore it. This is how we had to meet. Nothing tame or polite would do.”
“Far better than being introduced at a ball, I think. I doubt you would have remembered me among the crush of guests. Not when so many debutantes were being shoved at you all at once.” Of course, she would have remained in raptures over him. But so would every other young lady who met him.
“Had we been introduced in a crowded ballroom, would you have signed my dance card? Or spent time talking to me?” she asked, somehow thinking he would not have done either. More likely, he would have run to the card room and hidden there all evening with his bachelor friends, imbibing brandy or champagne, and commiserating over their misfortune to be hunted like wild boar.
He seemed to read her mind. “I would have noticed you. I would have remembered you. It is even possible I would have dreamed of you for nights afterward. But I would not have pursued you. At least, not yet.”
She nodded in agreement. “I didn’t think so. You’ve hardly had a moment to enjoy your bachelorhood.”
“Ah, yes. Setting up my own household. Being on my own to do as I wish, not answering to anyone but myself. I was looking forward to that.”
“Until me.”
“The bees weren’t your fault. I could have listened to the warning about the Chipping Way curse and purchased a house elsewhere. I didn’t want to. I liked General Allworthy’s house. Something about it called to me.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it was the beautiful Farthingale I was told lived next door.”
She laughed. “You had no idea I existed when you offered to purchase the house.”
He shrugged again. “I knew of the possibility of you.”
“Warned of the possibility of meeting your doom is more like it.”
“No. I was intrigued by the possibility of love.”
She clasped the book a little tighter, needing to hold onto something sturdy as her heart began to beat faster. His words sounded quite romantic, but how could they be?
“I did not expect it to slam into me so soon, but I was not afraid of it. Had Lady Withnall not been there as I slathered vinegar all over your body, I might have remained unattached a little while longer. Pretended you did not affect me.”
“But you just said you would have avoided me at the upcoming social affairs. Not signed my dance card. Not courted me.”
He nodded. “Remaining unattached for now was my plan. But plans are often dashed. I’ve never been in love. I’ve never even had a youthful infatuation. But that doesn’t mean I disdain it. I always held out the hope of finding the one person who would brighten my heart.”
Was he suggesting she was the one?
She didn’t believe it.
If anything, he was convincing himself that she had to be the one because fate and the Chipping Way curse had willed it.
“Being alone is not as glamorous as it appears. I realized it almost i
mmediately. My house is a mess. It has yet to be cleaned. I have very little furniture. And the only young woman I’ve brought there has been you.” He grunted, shook his head, and then chuckled. “The movers adored you. They were enraptured by your singing and your family’s thoughtfulness. They congratulated me on my good taste in a wife. I didn’t bother to correct them. There was no point since we will be married soon anyway.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you admitting defeat already?”
“Not at all. Lady Withnall’s edict may have moved up my plans, but the result would have been the same. Once I’d noticed you…I would never have forgotten you. Violet, my dreams of you would not have lasted a mere few days. You would have haunted them all the nights of my life.”
Her heart took a small leap. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really.”
She sat back, noting that his arm was stretched across the back of the bench. It would take nothing for him to put his arm around her.
She would like to be in his arms.
But he would not reach for her while they were in view of everyone inside the Farthingale house. “May I ask you something?”
He tipped his head in a curt nod. “Certainly.”
“What is it about me that would make me memorable to you?”
“First, and this is speaking only from my low brain, you are stunning.” He slid her a sideways glance and smiled. “Now, speaking from my high brain, you are stunning on the inside as well. In truth, I don’t think you appreciate just how lovely you are in every way.”
She blushed. “That is nonsense. There are dozens far prettier and more accomplished than me.”
“Not in my eyes, and we know from that book,” he said, nodding toward the tome she still gripped in her hands, “this is what counts most. It isn’t merely that you are pleasing to the eye. Lord knows you are.” He rolled his own eyes and glanced upward before returning his gaze to her. “I also like that you want to be something more as a person. You said earlier that looks fade over time. But a good heart, intelligence, generosity, those attributes don’t fade.”