by Platt, Meara
Violet Brayden.
The name sounded nice.
She thought no more about it when Lord Forester and his sister arrived. “May we speak to you in private?” Jameson asked even before managing a greeting.
“Please, Violet,” his sister said, glancing around as though worried they might be overheard.
“Yes, let’s take a turn in the garden.” They walked out of the parlor, and she led them outdoors, smothering a smile when she glanced at the oak tree where the bees had lived, but also where she’d received her very first, blazing kiss. Hopefully, the first of many from Romulus. “What is so urgent that has you both on edge?”
Jameson regarded her intently. “We need you desperately, Violet.”
“For the charity event you mentioned?”
He nodded. “Finances are quite dire at St. Aubrey’s, and the buildings are in greater danger of collapse than we imagined.”
“We’ve received another missive from the abbess imploring us to raise funds as soon as possible,” his sister said. “You are the only one who can do this for us. Violet, you must do it for the orphans.”
They continued to walk slowly around the garden, undisturbed by the other guests who had remained inside. Violet suspected Romulus was watching her from the large, parlor window, just as Hortensia had been watching them when they’d plotted their strategy for their kiss.
“Give me the details,” she said, determined not to commit to anything before speaking to Romulus, her Uncle John, and Aunt Sophie. While she knew she had common sense, she was also inexperienced in such matters and could think of no better three people to look to for guidance.
“We thought to let a theater for the evening and–”
“I won’t sing in a theater.” First, she knew her family would never permit it. Nor would Romulus approve, and she couldn’t blame him. “Is there not another more respectable venue available?”
Lady Rawley’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “Then you’ll do it?”
“No, Valerie!” She frowned at the pair. “I’m merely stating that I won’t even bring it to my family for their approval unless I am comfortable with your plans. And I am not comfortable with standing on a Covent Garden stage.”
“Ah, I see.” Jameson cast his sister a glance. “What our Violet is saying is that we ought to be looking for something more elegant. A royal society hall, a museum. Perhaps an elegant London house or garden, although we’d need a tent for the garden in the event of rain. The Duke of Lotheil has a magnificent home in London. Isn’t your cousin married to his grandson?”
He was referring to Lily.
“And your own sister is married to the Earl of Welles. I hear his house is also extraordinary.” Valerie smiled at her. “They spend most of their time at his estate in Wellesford now. So what harm is there in allowing you to host the charity affair in their London home? The house is unoccupied presently, is it not? We can bring in our own staff to move their furniture out of the way and set up the main rooms for a night’s recital. Perhaps two nights if the response is brisk.”
“We’ll have an orchestra and plenty of champagne. After you sing, we shall collect the donations.” Jameson paused suddenly and shook his head. “No, what am I saying? We must have them pay to hear you. A donation fee just to come in the door. This way we keep out the hangers-on and have only the wealthiest attend. We’ll take more pledges from them after you sing. I shall personally take charge of the funds and hold them in safekeeping until we can present the donation to St. Aubrey’s abbess.”
Valerie took her hand. “What do you say, Violet? Will you ask Lord Welles to give you his townhouse for the evening?”
“Let me see the letter from the abbess. You said she wrote to you.”
“Yes, here it is.” Jameson dug into his coat pocket and retrieved a rather crumpled paper. “You may hold onto it, if you wish. Show it to your uncle. I know he and your aunt are familiar with the orphanage.”
“Thank you, I will.” She tucked it securely in the sleeve of her gown.
“Let us know tomorrow,” he added. “I hate to rush you, but you’ll understand the need for haste once your read the letter. You have the voice of an angel, Violet. Put it to good use. Perhaps a quick song at today’s tea to whet the appetites of your guests?”
“Perhaps.” It was not unusual for the family to include a song or two during these tea parties. Often, her cousin Dillie would be coaxed to play the pianoforte and Lily, her twin, would play the harp. Violet would sing, although usually in a duet with Dillie. “I ought to go inside now. Aunt Sophie will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
They all walked back into the house and went their own way.
Violet was still uncertain of this venture, but it was for charity, and she did feel better knowing it would take place in a family home, assuming her brother-in-law Nathaniel approved of the use of his townhouse. She could send word and have it reach them within a matter of hours.
Now eager for the tea party to end so she could quietly read the abbess’s letter and discuss it with her family and Romulus, she settled on the sofa beside Dillie and distractedly nibbled on her ginger cake.
Dillie nudged her. “If you’re not going to eat that slice, I’ll take it. You know me, I can never pass up ginger cake.”
“And you’re eating for two now.” Violet glanced meaningfully at Dillie’s rounded belly. “Have at it, Dillie. I don’t have the appetite.”
Her cousin frowned lightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Friends have asked me to sing a few songs at a charity benefit they wish to organize. I just don’t see how it will work. They need to do this quickly and expect me to be the lure to draw the necessary benefactors and their purses. But no one knows of me. I know I can sing, but so what? If Romulus is any indication, the donors will not rush to hear yet another sweet young thing warble a few songs.”
“Well, why don’t we give it a try here?”
Violet tipped her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s slip into the music room. I’ll play while you sing. Let’s see how the guests respond to our impromptu recital. What have you got to lose?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” She smiled at her cousin. “It will be like old times.”
Dillie laughed. “Although I doubt anyone will miss Lily’s harp playing. Or should I say, her inability to play. No other person alive is able to evoke the awful sounds she made from those harp strings.”
“I’m sure she worked it out scientifically, configuring just the right chords to evoke the strongest cringe response.” Violet laughed. “Oh, I do miss her. Jasper and Ewan, too, of course.”
“They’ll be down from the Highlands by the end of the week. She’s giving her baboon lecture at the Royal Society. Can you believe it? The Fellows are in revolt, but the Duke of Lotheil is chairman, and she is married to his grandson, so he’s set down the law. She will speak, and he expects every Fellow to attend. He’ll take note of those who think to defy him.”
“I’ll attend,” Violet said with a nod. “She’ll need our support.”
“I’ll pick you up. Ian will have a fit, no doubt worried that a brawl will break out, and I’ll be in the middle of it.” She sighed. “He knows me too well. No one had better insult my sister, or I will come after them with my bare fists.”
Violet curled her hands into fists and laughed. “I’ll be right there beside you.”
“Which is why Ian will insist on attending with us,” Dillie said with a roll of her eyes. “He knows he can’t keep me away from the lecture. Perhaps Daisy and Gabriel will join us. Ian and Gabriel have both perfected that cold, lethal stare. No one will dare cause trouble while they are present.”
Violet nodded, suddenly wondering whether Romulus might like to attend. He’d certainly learn firsthand what it meant to ally oneself to the Farthingale clan. But it would also give him the chance to discreetly back out of the betrothal if he decided a quiet domestic life was what he
wanted. Farthingales did not know the meaning of the word quiet.
“Come on, Violet. Let’s escape to the music room.”
The room was empty when they walked in. Dillie sat beside the piano and lightly tinkered with the keys. Violet stood next to her, facing Dillie and her back to the door. She began to hum along to the playful notes.
Dillie began with a country lilt they often sang at family getaways in Coniston. Violet closed her eyes as the tune began to envelop her. Immediately, she felt the air fill within her lungs, and she was soon surrounded by a lightness of spirit. She warbled the first few notes. The music inspired and transported her, the words and melody now floating from her lips as gently as a feather on a summer breeze. She reached the high notes without difficulty, accomplished the playful trills with similar ease.
Her father affectionately called her his songbird, adopting this name for her almost from the time she’d learned her first words.
Songbird.
This is what she was whenever she sang, a majestic bird in flight, its wings outstretched and gliding on the wind.
Free.
Soaring.
Happy.
When the song ended, the room began to fill with a different noise, that of enthusiastic cheers and clapping.
Violet opened her eyes and turned in surprise to the ovation.
The room was packed, all the guests now crowding around her and Dillie to offer their compliments. Romulus stood by the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and his expression stoic.
She stood on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of him, hoping to gain his attention.
He arched an eyebrow and a slow smile spread across his face.
She returned his smile, then lost sight of him as the guests surrounded her to offer their congratulations. Jameson was among the first to approach her. “You must do this, Violet. Look how everyone responds to you.”
“They adore you,” Valerie said, giving her a hug as she nodded in agreement.
Yes, she wanted to benefit St. Aubrey’s for more reasons than anyone suspected. It wasn’t only for her singing. That was mere vanity on her part. The real reason was much closer to her heart, and none of her friends knew of it.
Her family never spoke of it.
There was one child who had been raised at the orphanage, one child who was the dearest thing in the world to her.
That child was her mother.
Indeed, it was not something the family ever spoke about. There was no shame involved, only sympathy for her mother’s feelings. She had never overcome the pain of being abandoned, of not knowing her blood kin. When her parents had married and Violet’s father had brought her into the Farthingale clan, she’d acquired a host of loving relations. Yet, as happy as her mother was, the anguish still festered for the blood connections she was denied.
Perhaps this was a little of what Violet was feeling now. Oh, she knew who her family was. What she did not know was who she was. She had yet to answer these questions. Who am I? What is my role in life?
She smiled at Jameson and Valerie, merely nodding as they continued to gush about her singing.
She was relieved when they finally moved away.
“Aunt Sophie,” she said when her aunt reached her side and gave her a hug. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you and Uncle John. May we speak after the tea party?”
“Of course, my dear.”
Violet glanced over at Romulus who was still standing by the doorway. Detached. Removed. Tensing as Jameson and Valerie strolled past him into the hall. Oh, dear. There was going to be trouble between these two men.
How much trouble? And how was she to prevent it?
Chapter Eleven
“Romulus, please stay,” Violet said as the afternoon tea came to an end and he was about to return to his home.
Many guests had lingered, still talking about Violet’s recital and the beauty of her voice. Romulus was the first to admit it was spectacular, but he knew what this discussion would entail, and he was not looking forward to it.
Lord Forester and his sister still made his gut roil with unease. Whenever they got near Violet, he had the urge to draw her behind him and stand protectively between her and that pair. It had nothing to do with his behaving like a possessive arse, although there might be a little of that, for he was not indifferent to Violet.
He didn’t care if she thought he was behaving like a jealous baboon. She meant something to him, and he was not going to let anyone hurt her. “Of course, I’ll stay.”
Night was falling, and as the doors were open onto the Farthingale garden, Romulus could see the brightest stars just coming onto the horizon. The day had been warm, and the scent of grass and roses lingered in the air.
“Thank you,” she said, nibbling her luscious lower lip in an obvious sign of worry.
“What is it, Violet?” He was in no hurry to leave her side, for he hadn’t been alone with her all day. There was nothing waiting for him at his home since it was still sparsely furnished and most of his newly hired staff would not move in for another day or two.
“I wish to talk to you and my aunt and uncle about the St. Aubrey’s charity.” There was a look of trepidation in her eyes, as though she was worried about his response to the news she intended to relate.
He knew what she was going to say, for the joy of singing had been evident on her face.
And now she thought he would disapprove.
But he’d heard the magic in her voice and seen how happy she was when singing. The talk they’d had earlier about her wanting to be something more…this was it. This was her calling, to use her voice to better this often-dangerous world.
He took her hand when she started to turn away. “Violet, I want you to know, I’ll support you in whatever it is you wish to do.”
“Much as you dislike it?” She seemed surprised, but pleased.
He ran his thumb along the delicate curve of her jaw. “Yes. What matters is that it means something to you. But I’d like to hear the details, and if you’ll allow me, I will offer my suggestions.”
Her smile was as beautiful as starlight. “Yes, of course.”
She stood a moment longer, smiling up at him.
He chuckled. “What?”
“You are quite wonderful. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”
His grin faded. “You never could. I mean it, Violet. You are perfect for me in every way.” Lord help him, it was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms and kissing her into forever.
She cast him an impertinent smile and nodded. “I shall make certain to remind you of your words when we discuss the matter of the St. Aubrey’s recital.”
It took another half an hour before Romulus finally sat with Violet, her aunt, and uncle in her uncle’s study. “Tell us what Lord Forester proposes, Violet,” John Farthingale said, taking a seat behind his desk and looking a little weary.
“He would like to organize a music recital to seek donations for St. Aubrey’s.” She cleared her throat and blushed delicately. But this was Violet, shy about attention being foisted on her. “He thinks your well-heeled friends will pay to hear me sing. The proceeds would all go to the orphanage, of course.”
“Where and when does he intend this event to take place?” Sophie asked.
“As soon as possible.” She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a folded parchment. “It is all quite rushed, but Sister Ursula, the abbess at St. Aubrey’s, wrote to Jameson. I haven’t read it yet, however their need is dire and she is urging him to obtain the funds immediately.”
She handed her uncle the letter.
He took a moment to read it and then grunted, but made no comment.
Romulus was now curious to look at it as well. “May I see it, Mr. Farthingale?”
“Yes, of course.” But her uncle’s brow was still furrowed. “Violet, tell me more about this benefit he wishes to hold.”
“It’s rather simple, Uncle John. Champagne, cakes, and music. I
don’t know if he plans on having other singers, or perhaps a pianist or harpist. But he thinks my singing will be the lure to draw donors to this event. You know why this orphanage is important to me. I want to help in any way I can.”
Romulus eyed her curiously. “Why is it important to you?”
Another blush crept up her cheeks. “I…I…” She turned to her aunt and uncle for help.
Blessed saints! Was she adopted? The possibility never occurred to him, for her resemblance to the other women in the family was too strong. But this may have been the very reason the Farthingales had taken her in.
His heart tugged, watching her still struggling for words. He reached out and wrapped her hand in both of his. “Violet, you can tell me anything.”
She nodded, but her lips were tightly pursed, and he could see this was not an easy thing for her. He stroked his thumb gently over the top of her hand. “Do you think I care where you come from? There is no shame in being raised in an orphanage.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “No, it isn’t me.” She cast her aunt and uncle another desperate glance, but eased at her uncle’s nod, as though he was giving her permission to reveal a dark, family secret. “This is where my mother was raised. She was the orphan.”
She took a deep breath. “But she still feels the pain of not knowing who her family is, so we try very hard not to talk about it. I’m glad she and my father are traveling now. This would be very difficult for her. Yet, she’d want me to help the orphanage in any way I can. I am able to do it using my voice. Perhaps this is why I was given this gift, to be able to help in a cause so dear to my mother’s heart.”
Romulus entwined his fingers in hers. “Then there’s no question you must do it. But all the more reason your uncle or I must be involved as well.”
Her eyes widened in dismay. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t trust Forester or his sister.” He felt her stiffen in his grasp, but he would not allow her to slip her hand out of his. “Violet, this is important to me. I will support you in every way, but Forester and his sister do not touch the donations. In this I am adamant.”