The Devil and the Heiress

by Harper St. George

  Her own story was not turning out quite so well. She and Christian attended several balls and theater events together. They always arrived separately because Violet had insisted upon it. She still didn’t trust herself to be near him, and the request wasn’t that out of the ordinary. Most fashionable couples spent the evenings out, following their own pursuits, coming together at one function or another for appearances. It wasn’t lost on her that her own marriage, despite her best intentions, had become like theirs. Living a life separate from her husband was not how she had ever envisioned her future, and in fact was why she had so rebelled against her parents’ plans for her.

  Except Christian was not Lord Ware or Hereford. He had not imposed himself upon her. He had not issued any restrictive edicts that would see her life curtailed to suit his whims. According to Max, he had not attempted to touch Aunt Hortense’s home. Her situation could be exponentially worse, which is why she didn’t allow herself to linger on those thoughts. In the evenings she wrote, and in the daytime she turned her attention toward renovations, choosing wallpaper, varnish, and furniture to make the Belgravia house a home.

  Only in the past several days had she begun to suspect that adding a nursery would need to be prioritized very soon. Her courses had not appeared since before she had left for Windermere, she felt tired more than usual, and her breasts ached in a way they never had before. The prospect of having a child—Christian’s child—filled her with as much happiness as it did uncertainty. They had never talked about children except for that day when he had told her about his injury. Would he welcome the news? Would he see it as another burden? How could she even tell him now with this terrible rift between them?

  None of this was ever how she had imagined her life to be.

  The suspicion weighed heavy on her mind as she sat trying to pay attention to the opera Lohengrin with Christian beside her. Her parents sat in the row in front of them with Lord and Lady Ashcroft, who had been gracious in inviting them all to share their box. Helena and her brother, Lord Rivendale, sat on her other side. Despite appearances, she had not spoken to her parents at any length, nor did she plan to in the near future, and Max was due to leave soon for New York. She exchanged letters with August often, but it wasn’t the same as having her sister here. She was very alone in this. Besides, sharing her suspicion with them could not compare to the joy she wished to share with Christian.

  He sat beside her, stiff and formal. His thigh was only inches from her, reminding her of how they had sat in the carriage and how he had invited her next to him. She had luxuriated in his touch that day. Even now there was a part of her that screamed out for him. That was the part that frightened her. She would tell him when she was certain, but she was afraid that her irrepressible feelings for him would overpower her. If she told him before knowing her own mind, surely she would be lost to him again. It was best to wait.

  She glanced to her right only to find him not watching the opera at all. His gaze was on her instead. It was not the first time she had noticed. When the music lowered, she leaned over and whispered, “The performance is on the stage.” She tried not to take in his scent, but it was too late. Even as her mind rebelled, her instincts sought the remembered comfort of him.

  “I prefer this view,” he said without taking his eyes from her.

  She stared at him fully, noting the intensity of his eyes and how they pulled her in. It was like that between them every single time she saw him. Him drawing her to him without even trying, and her attempting to keep her sanity. Even when she looked away she could feel the heat he emanated, could remember the way his touch felt, and her hand would ache to find his. Would such a small comfort compromise her so deeply?

  Yes! Every fiber of her being knew that if she allowed herself one small comfort, her affection-starved heart would revel in it, glutton itself in the luxury and demand more bit by bit until she was as lost as she had been before. Giving him everything while demanding nothing in return. Even knowing the danger he posed to her heart, she had to make a fist to ensure she wouldn’t reach for him. Her body craved the flood of solace and contentment that being held in his arms would bring it.

  “Excuse me,” she said, rising from her seat to brush past him as the anger that always accompanied such thoughts made an appearance. Pushing the curtain aside, she stepped out into the corridor that would lead her to the stairs and the cool evening air.

  “Violet?” he whispered as he came out behind her, catching up to her when the stairs were in sight.

  Since the opera still raged on, the corridor was empty with gaslights flickering at intervals, but they were turned very low so that his face appeared in shadow. She could still see his concern, and it tugged at her treacherous heart.

  “Are you ill?” he asked, coming to a stop only inches before her.

  “No, I’m angry, Christian.” She kept her voice low, and hopefully the music drowned out anything said between them from reaching ears only too eager to hear. Speculation about their living separately had been raging for weeks.

  He nodded. “My apologies. I’ll keep my gaze to the stage.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “It’s not only that.”

  “Tell me.” He searched her face and seemed to come to some resolution. “Tell me what I can do to win you back and make you end this punishment.”

  “You think I’m punishing you?”

  “Yes, that is very much how it feels. I know that I deserve it, so I haven’t pushed, but you don’t deserve it, and I can see that this estrangement is hurting you, too. Let me—” He reached for her, and she moved back out of instinct and self-preservation.

  “Christian, please don’t.”

  He paused and ran a hand over his jaw, clearly frustrated.

  “I’m sorry I can’t move forward yet, but you hurt me deeply. Not only did you wound me, but you made it so that I cannot even trust myself. I don’t trust my instincts. I don’t trust that I know anything about anything, certainly nothing about the things that I thought I knew.”

  She wasn’t making any sense, but pain furrowed his brow, and he made no move to speak.

  Taking a deep breath, she started again. “You see, I gave you everything, my hopes, my dreams, my future . . . my heart, you had all of it. I held nothing back from you. And you manipulated those feelings. You lied to me. The entire time I gave everything, you held back. I was too stupid to know that I was supposed to do the same. I don’t know how to move forward with that. I don’t know that if we do move forward that you’ll be honest. I don’t know that you even know how to be honest.

  “Please understand that while I am angry, none of this is to punish you, Christian. I do it to save myself.”

  His eyes glistened suspiciously, and that tore at her heart even more. She despised hurting him. When she would have turned away, he grasped her waist, making her pulse leap in excitement as her body remembered the pleasures his touch could bring.

  He didn’t attempt to kiss her as she thought he might. Instead, he whispered, “Perhaps it would be best to take some time apart, then. No more performances for the gossips.”

  She took in a serrated breath. “Yes, that seems wise.” It was certainly too painful for them both to continue as they were. Two broken people stumbling around each other, trying and failing to heal.

  “Know this, Violet. I love you.” His eyes were so fierce and earnest, she believed he spoke the truth. “I will love you until I draw my last breath. When you are ready, you will find me waiting.”

  Her own eyes filled with tears as pain and tenderness warred for space in her heart. Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him, an achingly sweet kiss of loss and heartache. When she pulled back, he let her go, dragging in a ragged breath. She turned before she could talk herself out of it and hurried outside to summon her carriage. The only way through this was forward, but she didn’t know if she had the strength to make it.


  * * *

  • • •

  Montague Club was busy by the time Christian returned that night. Usually, the jovial atmosphere allowed him to push whatever worried him to the back of his mind. He could forget it all for a time in drink, gambling, or fighting. That had not been true ever since he had returned to London without Violet. For the first time in his life, he felt that a part of himself was missing. That she had taken it with her, and he would never be whole again. Worse, he didn’t know that he wanted to be whole without her. The idea of finding joy in a life without her in it filled him with disgust.

  Ignoring the patrons he passed, he walked through the entry hall and up the stairs to seek the sanctity of his suite, already loosening his tie. He would send his valet away and spend the rest of the night racing to the bottom of a bottle of scotch. It wouldn’t solve anything, but it would dull the ache in his chest enough that he could make it through another night with the guilt doing its best to eat him alive.

  He was pushing open his door when Jacob called to him from down the corridor. Christian ignored him and continued into his room but left the door open so that his brother could enter if he wanted. Of course, he wanted. Jacob could never leave well enough alone. Dismissing his valet, Christian shrugged out of his coat and poured himself a drink as Jacob entered.

  Dressed in full evening wear, Jacob closed the door behind him and leaned against the doorjamb. “I take it the evening did not go well.”

  “She despises me.” Christian took a sip, letting the scotch warm a path to his belly where it joined the guilt gnawing at him. “I do not blame her, and yet . . .” He took another drink. He could barely restrain himself from going to the Belgravia house and forcing her to talk to him. Shaking his head, he said, “We’ve agreed to not see each other for a while.” It had seemed the only sane choice when he saw how very much his presence upset her.

  “I doubt she despises you.”

  “I hurt her deeply. I don’t know how to convince her to forgive me for that.”

  Jacob walked farther into the room, his face a study of serious thought as he sat on the sofa. “I don’t think you can convince someone of that. She either will or she won’t be able to.”

  Christian took the sofa opposite his brother. “Very helpful.”

  “No, I mean that perhaps you’re coming at this from the wrong angle. You’ve compromised her trust in you. Once trust is lost, you can’t see its return by simply willing it to be so.”

  He was right, but it sounded very much as if he meant Christian was to give her up. “Then what do you suggest?” he asked, holding his breath to await the answer.

  Jacob sat forward, forearms on his knees, to look him in the eye. “Deeds, brother. When words no longer hold meaning, deeds speak louder. Prove to her that she can trust you.”

  Deeds. The guilt and scotch swirled together in his belly, but Jacob’s words burned through them, an incendiary flame that scorched everything but his resolve. Deeds were the only way to have Violet in his arms again. They were the only way to prove to her that she could trust his words. The only way to have her.

  He knew exactly what he would have to do.

  Chapter 24

  The task before him was to convince the woman he loved that he was worth the hand she had given him. He set himself to this task with his whole heart.

  V. Lennox, An American and the London Season

  SEPTEMBER 1875

  I have wonderful news to announce.” Helena raised her voice slightly to be heard over the din of conversation in her drawing room. The board of directors of the orphanage was concluding its monthly meeting. After the usual fiscal report followed by progress made the previous month, the members were discussing the need for a capital campaign to finance the task of procuring a new home and school to house the working mothers and their children.

  The London Home for Young Women had begun as a way to fulfill a need Helena had identified from working with the orphanage. Working mothers, usually unmarried women, sometimes wanted to keep their children instead of giving them up but were unable to with the orphanage’s current resources. She had converted a floor in the orphanage for this purpose, but it had grown so much in the past year that it needed its own space separate from the orphanage along with its own board of directors. Violet was in attendance because Helena’s passion for the cause had influenced her to help.

  “Well, what is it?” Violet asked, setting her cup and saucer down. “You can’t hold us in suspense any longer.” She hadn’t seen Helena look this excited in the short while she had known her.

  Helena’s smile widened. “I received notice from our solicitor that a substantial donation has been made to help take the London Home for Young Women forward. We can begin looking for a building immediately. The donor, however, wishes to remain anonymous.”

  “How wonderful,” said one of the women.

  Another asked, “But how is this possible, Lady Helena? We haven’t yet begun to solicit donations beyond our families.” The five women all looked to one another as if hoping someone knew the identity of the mysterious donor.

  Helena looked at Violet, a very knowing and very appreciative glint in her eye. Thankfully, she glanced away before anyone else could catch her. Violet had no idea what the look meant.

  “It was a surprise to me as well. However, it means that we must make finding a space a priority,” Helena continued. “I believe it would be appropriate to form a committee for the purpose. Lady Leigh, would you like to chair this committee?”

  Caught completely unaware, Violet opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish out of water. Another woman seconded the motion, and before she knew it, she had been voted chair of the committee to find a new location for the London Home for Young Women. She didn’t mind, not really. The charity had become close to her heart in the months she had been volunteering under Helena’s guidance, but the entire exchange was odd.

  The meeting went on for several more minutes after the excitement, but finally the ladies adjourned and made their way out. Violet stayed behind to speak to Helena alone. As soon as the door closed on the last board member, Helena turned to her. “How are you feeling?”

  Violet automatically touched her belly. Her pregnancy wasn’t known yet, but she had shared the information with August, Max, and Helena. All those close to her except Christian. She would have to tell him soon, however, because she didn’t want anyone else beating her to it. Her body had already begun to change in many ways. She wore her corset loosened, her face had grown fuller, as had other parts of her, and she was hungry nearly constantly. It was only days before someone noticed. He would be hurt if he didn’t hear it from her.

  She had even begun to feel that fluttering sensation that told her the baby moved and grew inside her. It had happened a few days ago, and her first thought had been to tell Christian, to share it with him, but they hadn’t talked in months now, and she was no longer sure of her reception if she approached him, even though she missed him more and more each day. Their time apart had given her the space she needed to feel comfortable making her own decisions and learn how to trust herself again. It had also made her wonder if his infatuation had faded. He had said that he would always love her, but she still didn’t know how she could trust that when so much of their history was based on lies.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, she said, “Much better lately, thank you. My fatigue and nausea seem to have passed.”

  “That’s so good to hear.” Helena led the way back to the drawing room. “I hope you don’t mind me recruiting you as I did for the committee. It only seemed right that you take the lead since this was such a very generous contribution. It would have taken us months and months to raise this sort of funding. Why, we’re nearly a year ahead of where I dared hope to be. But if you feel that you may not be up for it, I completely understand.”

  “No, of co
urse I don’t mind, Helena. I am happy to help in any way that I can, and I believe we can find something within the next couple months. Certainly, well before the baby is to be born in February. It’s only that I’m afraid I don’t understand. You see, I already donated my portion, and I had Mr. Clark set up an annuity.” Christian’s solicitor had paid her a visit shortly after she had taken up residence at the Belgravia house. They had been in regular contact since to establish how her fortune should be managed. Along with a lump sum donation, she had set up an investment that would see the charity given a fixed amount every year.

  “I know that, but my solicitor believes that you arranged it.” Helena frowned.

  “Interesting. Why would he think that?” It would not be from her parents, whom she had not spoken to at any length beyond social functions. She intended to speak to them, but it would be much later, once she had finished establishing herself. “Perhaps it was Max?”

  Helena colored prettily, and her face softened somehow. “It’s not from him. He already made a pledge. Besides”—she glanced toward the door even though everyone had left them and her aged servants were in the kitchen—“the solicitor mentioned Lord Leigh, though his name shall never appear on any documents. We both assumed that you had appealed to your husband.”

  Shock prickled her skin. “No, I haven’t spoken to him yet about it.”

  No one but August, and the gossips who continued to speculate about the state of their relationship, knew that she hadn’t spoken to him in months. No one but her immediate family knew that he would not be able to summon such a large donation from his own personal wealth. Had he used her funds? The funds that he had sworn were hers alone? She didn’t think he would, but she hadn’t actually required Mr. Clark to show her the monthly transactions.