by Platt, Meara
She frowned at him. “He will never agree to your holding the funds. Nor can I blame him. You’ve disliked him from the first. How can he take this as anything other than a vile insult?”
“I don’t care. What I cannot shake off is the oily feeling I get when I’m around the two of them. Why should he care if someone trustworthy is given responsibility for the donations he hopes will pour in? I am not requiring it to be me. I can ask my cousin Finn. While Tynan and James run the Brayden business affairs, it is Finn who manages the family wealth. He does the same for many prominent members of Parliament, be they in the House of Commons or House of Lords.” He turned to Violet’s uncle. “Of course, I would have no objection to you or any of your brothers taking charge of the purse strings. My only concern is to keep Forester out of the financial end of it.”
Violet’s uncle gave a curt nod. “I shall discuss this and other terms with my brothers. In the meantime, will you ask your cousin Finn? I know of him, and I think he’s a good choice.”
“I’ll be seeing him for a late supper this evening. I’ll discuss it with him.”
“Good. I’ll meet with Lord Forester tomorrow afternoon to finalize the details. I don’t like the idea of holding this function in the Earl of Welles’s London townhouse, especially since he won’t be there. But I will ask the Duke of Lotheil if he’ll allow us to hold the recital in the new Royal Society hall.”
“I would like that,” Violet said, her eyes now brighter. “The hall is beautiful. To sing among those ancient relics would be quite remarkable.”
Romulus said nothing.
The short hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end again. Perhaps he was indeed being a possessive arse, not liking the idea of other men ogling this beauty as she sang her angelic verses in a packed hall.
He would not feel so ill at ease if they were married. Perhaps it was foolish of him, but it would seem quite a different matter if the angel singing among the rare antiques was known to be his wife.
Unfortunately, he did not think Violet would now agree to marry him before this event took place. He glanced at her, willing himself to be patient.
After another few minutes of discussion, Romulus rose to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Violet.”
She nodded and rose along with him. “Same bench, same time.”
He bid her aunt and uncle farewell, intending to walk out and leave the three of them to talk over whatever else was needed, but Violet followed him out of the study. He was surprised and pleased as she walked him to the front door. “Do we need to discuss my participation in the recital any further?” she asked.
“No.” He caressed her cheek. “So, it appears you are to sing.”
“Assuming we’ll have the Royal Society hall. And assuming Jameson will accept to have your cousin manage the donations.”
“He can have no objection. Finn is known and respected among the Upper Crust. If he refuses, it will only confirm my suspicions as to his motives.”
She sighed. “I am going to give you Lily’s monograph to read. I think you will recognize yourself among the pages.”
He grinned wryly. “Are you suggesting I’m behaving like a baboon’s arse?”
He ought to have merely bowed over her hand, but they were alone in the hall, and he could not resist giving her a kiss on her soft cheek. “I’ll dream of you tonight, Violet.”
Her smile was sweet and teasing. “In a high brain way?”
“No, love. Low brain all the way.”
*
Violet’s heart simply melted when Romulus strode toward her the next morning with an appealingly boyish smile on his face. However, there was nothing boyish about him. He was all hard-muscled man. “Good morning,” she said, hoping not to sound breathless.
He was dressed in his naval uniform, obviously donned for a ceremonial occasion. His buttons and medals gleamed in the sunlight, and his black, thigh-high boots were polished to such a bright shine, one could almost see one’s face reflected upon the black leather.
She set aside The Book of Love and rose from the garden bench, returning his smile with a warm one of her own. “Romulus, you look so handsome.”
He laughed. “Are your legs turning to butter? It’s the uniform. It has that effect on women.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks, and she knew her face must now be in flames. Of course, who could resist such a man? Now that she knew him better, she admired his intelligence and his sense of honor, but there was no overlooking the magnificence of his body.
The uniform made him look incredibly daunting. He was muscled, but the cut of his jacket made his shoulders appear massive and chiseled out of solid rock. He was all sinew and strength.
He tipped her chin up so that their gazes met.
She felt like a fool, swooning over him just as any other woman would.
He knew it and was grinning at her. “I had lots of naughty dreams about you last night,” he teased. “I’m glad I’m not the only one of us who can’t think straight when we see each other.”
She laughed.
He always knew just how to put her at ease.
“I want to kiss you, Violet. Ache for it. But little Farthingale spies are all about.” He turned toward the oak tree where her two cousins, Charles and Harry, were hiding amid the branches. Their giggles filtered down through the thick cover of leaves. “Of course, your Aunt Hortensia is staring out the parlor window with her usual prune-faced scowl. I don’t think she likes me. She knows exactly what I wish to do to you.”
Violet shook her head. “She’s scowling at me because she knows I won’t refuse your wicked advances. However, you’ll be pleased to know Pruitt approves of you.”
“Ah, your wise, Scottish butler. I am honored.” His smile softened. “I can’t stay this morning. As you may have surmised from the uniform I’m wearing, I’ve been summoned to the Admiralty.”
She frowned. “On a serious matter?”
“No, just a formality.”
He must have noticed the worry in her eyes, for he continued to assure her in a purposely light manner. “I’m not going anywhere before I make you my wife. I mean it, Violet. Make the wedding plans once you’re through with the St. Aubrey’s benefit. I don’t need more lessons out of that book.” He glanced at the tome. “It doesn’t matter to me whether love begins with the brain or the heart. I don’t need to review the five senses to know that the sight of you, or the sound and scent of you, gives me pleasure.”
He groaned and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I want to marry you. I don’t need the threat of Lady Withnall’s anvil falling on my head to convince me.”
“I feel the same way, but I also feel it is important for us to get through this first week. Not only to see what comes of Lady Withnall’s threat. Getting through this charity recital will require all my concentration. My heart is wrapped up in it. I know how much the orphanage means to my mother, and I want everything to be perfect, something we can all look back on with pride.”
“It will be, Violet.”
She swallowed hard, suddenly caught up in ache for her mother.
Romulus regained her attention by caressing her cheek. “My aunt wishes me to bring you to her house for tea this afternoon. Lady Dayne has also been invited. I’ll come by at four o’clock to pick you both up. You’ll like Aunt Miranda. She is the notorious Lady Grayfell, possibly the only person in London able to strike fear in the heart of Lady Withnall. I think she was Julius Caesar in an earlier life. Perhaps Atilla the Hun.”
Violet emitted a mirthful laugh. “Honestly, Romulus, the way you describe her. I’m sure she isn’t nearly as daunting as you make her sound.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, she’s worse. But she will adore you. My cousin Finn will also be there. I spoke to him last night. He has agreed to hold the donations for St. Aubrey’s.”
“Then I may thank him in person this afternoon. I’ll let Uncle John know your cousin is willing. He’ll include it in his note to James
on.”
She nibbled her lip, a little troubled to be taking the responsibility away from her old friend, but it was a small thing. Jameson could still claim all the glory. No one would think twice about his delegating the financial aspect since it was considered beneath a gentleman to deal with something as crass as the money handling.
“Since you’ll be occupied at the Admiralty, I’ll ask Uncle John if I may join him at the Royal Society. He’s arranged to meet the Duke of Lotheil there at noon. It will give me the chance to view the hall. If the duke gives his permission, then we’ll have to work fast to get the place set up properly.”
“I hope it all works out, Violet.”
She cast him an impish grin. “I’ve already sorted through my songbook and chosen about twenty songs I think will be appropriate for the recital. I’ll have to narrow them down to four or five. But I’ll sing them all to you first, and you can tell me which you like best. You won’t mind, will you?”
“Gad, Violet. That’s just cruel.” He laughingly groaned. “But you know I’d do it for you.”
His expression had her laughing all the harder, and yet there was something deliciously sweet in the way he regarded her. She was truly touched, knowing how much he detested musicales. However, for her, he’d endure.
“Stop cringing, Romulus. I’m teasing you. It is Jameson and his sister I intend to torture with my singing. I’ll let them choose which songs I am to perform.”
She glanced up at the oak tree as the leaves began to rustle above them, reminding her that Charles and Harry were listening to their every word, and likely preparing to pepper them with acorns. “You had better be off for the Admiralty. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“I’ll be thinking of you,” he said with a chuckle, looking as though he wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her with delightful thoroughness. He wouldn’t with the children giggling above them and spying on their every move. “I hope all goes well with the Duke of Lotheil and the Royal Society.”
“I’ll be thinking of you as well. Are you certain the Admiralty has no surprises in store for you?”
She noticed the fleck of hesitation in his eyes, quickly covered up by a devastatingly appealing smile. “No surprises, Violet. My ship is not yet seaworthy. I doubt they’ll assign me another.”
But Violet felt a tug to her heart.
Why did she feel as though her time with Romulus was running out?
Chapter Twelve
Violet had been standing in the entry hall for the last twenty minutes, peering out the front window. It was now four o’clock and still no sign of Romulus. She had so much to tell him, and was worried something had gone wrong at the Admiralty.
Had he been given command of another ship?
“Miss Violet,” Pruitt said, clearing his throat, “you’ll be more comfortable waiting with Lady Dayne and your aunt in the parlor. Captain Brayden won’t turn up any sooner by your staring out the window.”
She smiled at the Farthingale butler. “I know. I can’t help it.” She wanted to say it wasn’t like him to be late, but how would she know whether Romulus was the punctual sort or not? Moments like these were reminders of how little she really knew him. Yet, at the same time, she felt as though she’d known him forever. “Oh, thank goodness! There he is. I see him coming up the walk now.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to throw open the door.
Pruitt groaned lightly behind her.
“Training a new butler, Pruitt? A very pretty one,” Romulus teased, obviously surprised to find her throwing open the door. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, still dressed in his uniform and looking incredibly handsome. “The summons to the Admiralty turned out to be more involved than I expected. I’ll tell you about it later. Is Lady Dayne with you?”
She nodded. “She’s in the parlor with Aunt Sophie.”
Pruitt had left them to notify Lady Dayne. They now stood alone in the entry hall, but would only have a moment to speak before they were interrupted. “Violet,” Romulus said with a whispered ache to his voice as he bent his head toward her.
Before she knew it, she was caught up in his arms and his warm lips were pressing against hers with unexpected urgency. There was something wonderful about his kisses, or perhaps she was simply so swept away by him that she was coming to crave him as much as one might crave air.
She circled her arms around his neck, feeling the prick of his medals against her arm and the heat of his body now molded to hers.
She liked that he was hungry for her, the crush of his lips intense and unexpectedly ravenous. But what had happened at the Admiralty?
Before she knew it, he drew away, leaving her lips tingling and her heart yearning for more. “Have you been assigned a new vessel? What is it, Romulus?”
His groan was one of helpless frustration. “They want me back in Cornwall by the end of–” He cut off abruptly as Lady Dayne and Pruitt joined them.
By the end of what?
Violet stifled her own frustration, knowing they would have no chance to speak in his carriage unless he chose to confide in Lady Dayne as well. Although there was no question of the kindly dowager’s discretion, Violet was disappointed when Romulus chose not to say a word on the subject. Instead, he directed the conversation to a dozen trivial topics, purposely avoiding mention of his return to Cornwall. When was it to be? By the end of tomorrow? End of the week? End of the month?
She could not suppress her concern. What was so sensitive he could not discuss it in front of Lady Dayne?
She hoped they’d have the chance to talk while at his aunt’s tea party, but she quickly realized this was not going to happen. The moment they entered Lady Grayfell’s townhouse, Violet was descended upon by giants who turned out to be Brayden cousins.
She thought Romulus was the size and brawn of a Roman gladiator, but even at his strapping height and incredibly muscled strength, he was considered the runt of the litter. Finn, Joshua, Ronan, and Tynan were barely taller than Romulus, but the way they teased him, one would think they were head and shoulders above him.
They were all handsome men, to be sure. But none compared to Romulus. She could not have designed a more perfect male. Everything from the waves of his golden hair, to his exquisite green eyes, and masculine face, to his big, rugged warrior body was perfection.
But it was more than that. He was kind, protective, and took his family’s jests in good humor.
How could she not melt when in his presence?
“Is this Violet?” Lady Miranda asked, embracing her without thought of waiting for a proper introduction.
Violet was hauled against the imposing woman’s bosom, clutched so tightly she could hardly breathe. Her embrace was obviously meant as a sign of affection, even if embarrassingly uncomfortable. “Let go of her, Aunt Miranda. You’ll suffocate my betrothed,” Romulus said with a laughing shake of his head.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rom.” But Miranda eased her grip and allowed Violet to draw away. She was almost as tall and most definitely as strong as any of the Brayden men.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Violet said, feeling like a child among them. The size of this family! Fortunately, Sophie and Abigail, the wives of James and Tynan, were also present and came forward to greet her.
The three of them were of similar height, and Violet could only imagine how they must have felt when first meeting these Brayden men.
“I cannot believe one of my tadpoles is betrothed.” Lady Miranda gave Violet another hug, this time thankfully brief. However, Violet was not free of her grasp yet. Romulus’s aunt took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around to inspect her. “Rom, you’ve made a fine choice. I like your Violet. What a pretty girl you are, my dear.”
Romulus cast his aunt a wry grin. “She’s a wonder, Aunt Miranda. Smart, beautiful, and she sings, too. You’ve never heard anything like it. She has the voice of an angel.”
Violet wasn’t used to so many people, other than Farthin
gale family members, staring at her all at once. Of course, the family would all gather around the piano at Christmastide and listen as she sang, but most of these Braydens were still strangers to her.
She blushed as all of them continued to regard her as though she was a pet in a zoo. “Your nephew is exaggerating, of course.”
Romulus arched an eyebrow. “I am not. If anything, I am understating your talent.”
One of the giants stepped forward and introduced himself as Finn. His hair was darker than Romulus’s, and his eyes were a magnificent mix of gray and green. “I’m looking forward to your recital, Miss Farthingale. Do you know yet where it shall be held?”
“Oh, please call me Violet,” she said with a nod. “The Duke of Lotheil has consented to our use of the new Royal Society hall. It is a magnificent addition to the building’s structure. I think we’ll draw a good crowd there.”
Finn grinned. “With you singing? You’d draw a crowd anywhere. The hall will be packed.”
She laughed in surprise, appreciating his confidence, but knowing he was only being polite. “How can you be so certain? You haven’t heard me sing yet.”
“But Romulus has. He hates all manner of musical entertainments, thinks most of the debutantes who perform at these functions are insipid. He cringes at the mere thought. But he isn’t cringing when he speaks of you. If he claims you have the voice of an angel, then I am sure you do.”
“Will you sing for us?” Joshua asked.
Ronan poked him in the ribs. “Shut up, you dolt. She’s our guest. It isn’t right to put her to work.” He bowed politely over Violet’s hand. “Ignore my ape of a brother. You needn’t sing for your supper.”
She thanked him, feeling somewhat relieved. However, she knew she would have to get over her shyness when it came to singing to strangers, for the Royal Society hall would be a crush if Finn’s assessment was correct.
She took a moment to thank Finn for agreeing to hold the funds.
“My pleasure, Violet. I’m delighted to help out for a good cause. It’s very easy to get caught up in the whirl of wealth and power concentrated in London. But what use is amassing that wealth if it is merely to be kept locked away? I like that we are working toward helping the orphanage.”