There was obviously more to James than she had thought, then or now. Which didn’t mean there could ever be anything between them.
Of course, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her head, it didn’t rule it out either.
“...AND WE DO think the spring ball at the Explorers Club the week after next would be perfect for your first notable public appearance.” Effie tapped the first line of a long list of social engagements she had placed in front of Violet. Mrs. Higginbotham and the other ladies preferred Violet call them by their given names as they were inevitably going to spend a fair amount of time together in the next three years and would surely become great friends. “It’s going to be quite special in recognition of the Queen’s anniversary year. She won’t attend, of course, but the ball is in her honor.”
“I’m not sure we are invited to that,” Violet murmured, staring at the list. It was longer than she had expected and filled with names of people she hadn’t seen in years. People she wasn’t at all sure she wished to see.
“Of course you are, dear.” Gwen smiled. “And if you hadn’t been we would have made certain you were.”
The ladies had asked to meet here at the ladies’ reading room at Fenwick and Sons, Booksellers for refreshments and a chat.
Violet scanned the lists. “Why the Explorers Club Ball? I had no idea James was a member.”
“Indeed he is, as was his uncle before him.” Poppy lowered her voice in a confidential manner. “The vast majority of the Explorers Club membership comprises men who will never do anything more adventurous than maintaining their membership. But they do like belonging and they provide financial support and a certain elite status, as well. You understand.”
Violet nodded.
“We thought this particular event would be suitable for, oh, dipping your toes in the societal water so to speak,” Gwen said. “While the very fact that Lord and Lady Ellsworth are at last residing together will be the subject of a great deal of discussion nearly everywhere you go, the Explorers Club is not quite as socially conscious as something like Lady Scarsdale’s annual ball or the charity fete for military widows and orphans, or the Queen’s garden party or any number of other events you’ve been invited to.”
“Although you will have to face some of those sooner or later,” Effie warned.
“Beyond that,” Poppy continued, “we will be at the ball should you have need of us.”
“That’s very kind of you.” For good or ill, these women were going to be a part of her life for the next three years. Best to get everything out in the open. “Do you know how James and I came to be married?”
The ladies exchanged glances.
“As you are well aware,” Gwen began, “London society is a world all its own and there are subtle divisions. Our husbands were men of adventure. Effie’s husband William was a military man for much of his life. My dear Charles and Poppy’s Malcomb—”
“God rest their souls,” Poppy said under her breath.
“—were engaged in exploration. None of us married wealth or titles. My husband was knighted long after we were married. Our friends and acquaintances were not quite the same as his late lordship’s although the earl, William and Effie were great friends in their youth.”
“Just tell the girl.” Effie huffed and met Violet’s gaze. “While we are not in the same social circles, we do have a great number of connections between us. And the story of a passionate kiss between a man about to be engaged—”
“Don’t forget the slap.” Poppy grinned. “I thought the slap was the best part.”
“—is a juicy bit of gossip that does tend to spread widely.” Sympathy shone in Effie’s eyes. “So yes, we knew all about the circumstances of your marriage when it occurred, long before I received Richard’s instructions regarding his will.”
“I daresay there probably isn’t anyone in London who doesn’t know.” Poppy winced. “Although it was a long time ago,” she added helpfully.
“I assumed as much.” Violet smiled weakly. “At least it saves me from having to tell the tale now.”
Poppy leaned forward. “Do you hate him?”
Violet widened her eyes in surprise. “Hate who?”
“James, of course.” Effie’s brow furrowed. “Although I suppose you might hate Richard now as well for putting you in this situation.”
“I’m not especially happy about it, but no.” Violet shook her head. “I loved Uncle Richard. I could never hate him.”
“And James?” Effie’s gaze locked with hers.
“James made a stupid mistake six years ago.” Violet chose her words with care. “But even though he had no desire to wed, he did the honorable thing and married me.” She thought for a moment. “I thought he had ruined my life but recently I’ve come to the realization that he in fact saved my life. He gave me the freedom and the resources that made me the woman I have become. And I like her. I like me.” She shook her head. “I could never hate him.”
“Excellent.” Poppy beamed.
“However,” Violet added, and Poppy’s expression deflated. “He didn’t want a wife at all and he certainly didn’t want me.” She drew a deep breath. “Rather upsetting to discover the man you’ve just married doesn’t want you.”
The ladies nodded as one.
“I have never forgotten that nor have I forgiven him. While it does appear that James is decidedly different from the man he once was—as I am not the same woman I was six years ago—I don’t know that I can trust him.”
“Understandable.” Effie raised her chin. “Trust has to be earned.”
The other ladies nodded in agreement.
“But you don’t dislike him?” Poppy asked.
“I only just today realized I barely know him.” Violet shook her head. “I don’t dislike him but I can’t say I like him, either.”
“Trust.” Poppy nodded. “It’s all about trust.”
“For the next three years I intend to keep him at arm’s length.” Violet squared her shoulders. “I shall be cordial and polite.”
“Cordial and polite is certainly a beginning,” Gwen said. “But we did think you were a bit, oh, docile last night.”
“Docile?” Violet frowned. “Me?”
“Men will walk all over you if you let them,” Effie warned.
It had been six years since Violet had been anything approaching docile. “I thought I was appropriately aloof.”
“Well, that’s a discussion for another time.” Effie waved off the comment. “We were wondering what your thoughts were regarding your position as Lady Ellsworth.”
“Well, I’m assessing the house as to needed refurbishment. Other than that, I really haven’t given it much thought.” Right now all Violet could think about was docile. Dear Lord, if she was docile after three days what would happen after three years? She absolutely would not become the woman she once was.
“Oh, you should, you really should. You have a unique place in society now and society will expect a great deal from you,” Gwen said. “Your every action will be noted and commented upon.”
Violet shrugged. “That’s nothing new. I daresay I’ve been scrutinized every time I’ve returned to London.”
“Then you are most assuredly up to the task.” Poppy smiled. “We’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you.”
“That is good to know.” Violet sipped her tea, still trying to get docile out of her head.
“We’ve no doubt you will be a brilliant Lady Ellsworth, at least publicly.” Effie paused. “Privately is another matter.”
Violet’s brow rose. “Oh?”
“James is used to an all-male household.” Gwen shook her head. “He no doubt thinks life will not change for him. Men get set in their ways. For most of James’s life, he and Richard lived a carefree bachelor existence with no significant female presence.”
“You are about to change that,” Poppy added firmly. “It’s important to start this relationship on the right foot.”
“I did think—”
“Men like to believe they’re in charge but we know better.” Effie nodded. “You must carve out your position right from the beginning. Grab the bull by the horns as they say. Take the reins, my dear.”
“Men do need to be, oh, what’s the word?” Poppy glanced at her friends.
“Managed,” Gwen said. “As you would manage a household.” She frowned. “Do you know how to manage a household?”
“I never have but I’m confident I can.” For that at least her mother could be credited.
“Although it is best if men don’t know they’re being managed.” Effie refilled her cup from the pot of tea on the table. “Male pride and all that.”
“I’d never really considered—”
“Most men expect women to be biddable, subservient creatures dedicated to making the lives of men comfortable.”
“I daresay—”
“You’re a clever, independent woman who has spent years traveling the world,” Gwen said.
“Assert yourself my dear.” Effie nodded. “Be the woman you’ve become.”
Violet drew her brows together. “I intend to be.”
“It’s never too soon to begin.” Poppy selected a biscuit from the tiered plate on the table.
“For good or ill, the man changed the course of your life,” Effie said. “Now, he’s depending on you to save the rest of his.”
“And he did give you a free hand.” Poppy smiled sweetly but there was a determined look in her eye. “We suggest you take it.”
“After all.” Effie met Violet’s gaze. “You are Lady Ellsworth. The first Lady Ellsworth in quite some time.”
“We know you’re up to the task.” Confidence rang in Gwen’s voice.
“Indeed I am.” Violet raised her chin. Docile indeed!
“Excellent.” Poppy beamed. “Now then, you must tell us all about your travels.”
“Our husbands were always traveling but none of us have been anywhere at all.” Effie nodded toward Poppy. “Oh, Poppy visited Paris as a girl.”
“And we did once spend a few weeks in the Lake District,” Gwen said.
Poppy nodded. “We can’t imagine a greater adventure than seeing all those places one merely reads about. And we do so want to hear all about your adventures.”
“All about my adventures? Are you sure?” Violet asked with a smile. “I have been traveling for some time now.”
“Oh, my, yes.” Gwen nodded. “It will be as if we were there with you.”
“Well...” Violet thought for a moment. “Where would you like to begin?”
“I have always wanted to travel to Italy.” Poppy’s eyes shone with excitement. “And Switzerland.”
“India,” Effie announced. “Definitely India. And perhaps...”
It seemed there wasn’t anywhere in the world the threesome didn’t want to see for themselves.
“Very well, then. I shall start at the beginning.” She thought for a moment. “After my marriage, the first place I traveled to was Paris.” She glanced at Poppy. “But as you’ve been there perhaps I should start with someplace else?”
“Oh, no.” Poppy shook her head. “It’s been so long since I was there I scarcely remember it at all.”
“Photographs of Paris, even paintings, do not do it justice,” Violet began. “Paris is as much a state of mind as anything else. The first thing one notices...”
For the next hour or so Violet regaled her new friends with stories of the City of Light, of the fascinating sights she had seen and equally fascinating people she had met.
The ladies were right. If she didn’t stand up for herself, no one else would. She was willing to act as James’s wife for the next three years but she was not about to become the woman he had married.
And docile was the last thing she intended to be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“OH, YES, JAMES, yes, yes, yes.”
Violet’s red hair spread across the pillows, strands of twisted solid flames. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she writhed beneath him. He thrust into her over and over, faster and harder. Moans of pleasure sounded deep in her throat, matching his own, spurring him on. He lost himself in the feel of her delectable body beneath his, the heat of her flesh, the press of her tightened nipples against his chest, the delicious scent of her wrapping itself around his soul. The headboard banged against the wall, knocking louder and louder with every thrust of his cock deep into her. At last she was his and he was hers. So very good. So very right. Meant—fated—to be. Pleasure and need spiraled within him and her body rose up to meet his. The pounding increased, echoing through his blood, his body, his soul. Louder and faster and—
James jerked upright in bed, the dream of Violet moaning his name abruptly shattered. “Bloody hell!”
He scrambled off the bed, threw on his dressing gown, strode to the door and flung it open. “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on?”
Violet stood before him, dressed in a riding habit the exact emerald shade of her eyes, hand raised to knock yet again.
“Did I wake you?” she asked in an innocent manner. Her gaze flicked over him, pausing at the obvious evidence of his arousal beneath his robe. “Or perhaps I interrupted?”
Now was probably not the best time to confess she had awoken him from a dream about her—about them—nor was it the first erotic dream he’d had about her. “I was asleep!”
“My apologies.” Her gaze returned to his eyes, the most delectable blush washing up her face. “Shouldn’t you do something—” she fluttered her fingers in the general vicinity of his erection “—about that?”
Under other circumstances, he would have stepped behind the door in an attempt at modesty. But she had pounded on his door and he wasn’t the least bit happy about it. Even now the urge to pull her into his arms and finish what he’d started in his dreams was damn near irresistible. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What would you suggest I do?”
“I don’t know. Something.”
“Are you offering your assistance?”
“Don’t be crude, James,” she said in a weak voice, then cleared her throat. “I thought we could take a ride in the park. It will fulfill one of our obligatory appearances.”
“Now?”
“Unless things have changed dramatically in the years I’ve been away, no one who is anyone rides in the park until ten at the earliest. Therefore, we shall have the place to ourselves.”
He shook his head in an effort to clear it. “It’s still dark.”
“The sun will be up in a few minutes. Which gives you just enough time to dress.”
“So you have awakened me before dawn to ride in the park?”
“Oh, I’ve always enjoyed a nice, invigorating ride in the park, especially early in the morning. I find it most stimulating,” she said, then apparently realized what else her words might mean. Her blush deepened.
“I would hate to deprive you of stimulation,” he said wryly.
“Excellent.” She adopted a pleasant smile but the blush did not recede. Interesting in a woman of her rumored experience. “I shall see you downstairs, then.” She turned and swished off down the hall, her nicely bustled ass swaying behind her.
He refused to hurry to dress, taking a bit more time than was necessary although he did need to alleviate his current state of arousal. He certainly couldn’t ride a blasted horse like this. Besides, it was too damn early in the morning to be up and about.
This wasn’t the first time he had dreamed about her. Dreams that had increased in frequency in the last few years. For that he blamed Uncle Richard’s incessant campaign to bring them together—as well as his own sense of guilt a
nd possibly the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman. Surely celibacy also played a role in his nocturnal amorous adventures. But the dreams he’d had since she’d taken up residence in the room next to his were far more intense and intimate and passionate than any he’d had before. This most recent dream had been the worst. Or possibly the best. Perhaps it had been triggered by their comments about wanting children. There was only one way to have children.
He wanted her back, although really he’d never had her in the first place. Now, thanks to Uncle Richard, he would have to do something about that. Even he knew it was past time. She was willing to be his wife in little more than name only at the moment. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wasn’t sure when he had realized that, but he had. He wanted her in his life for more than three years. He wanted her in his bed. And he wanted her heart. She had claimed his with that first kiss on the terrace even if he’d wasted years refusing to accept it. What an idiot he’d been. He’d never set out to make a woman fall in love with him before, but this was different. This was his wife. This was Violet.
James made his way downstairs to the front entry to find it empty. Jonas, the lone footman, who did not look particularly awake, opened the door a split second before James reached it. Violet was outside, already mounted, the reins of a second horse held by a sleepy stable boy.
“I am so pleased you were finally able to join me, my lord.” Violet flicked her gaze over him. “And people claim women take a long time to dress.” She turned her horse in the direction of the park.
He mounted his horse and guided the beast into place beside her. “Oh, I wouldn’t have missed this. One can never start the day with too much stimulation.”
She shot him a sharp glance. He ignored it.
They maneuvered their horses around the few early-morning vehicles they encountered and in no time had entered Hyde Park and made their way to Rotten Row.
“You’re right.” He drew a refreshing breath. “This is an excellent time of day for a brisk ride. I should do it more often.”
“It does require getting out of bed at an early hour, you know.” The tiniest hint of what might have been amusement quirked the corners of her lips. “You don’t seem inclined to do that.”
The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After Page 9