by Gay, Gloria
What made him so certain she would give in?
"I shall come right out with what I wish, Miss Durbin," said the duke as they glided to the waltz. "I find that I have become quite smitten with you and desire your company."
Violet gasped. "My company? In what way, your grace?" She felt as if a hot iron had been placed across her chest, leaving her without breath.
Again, Violet said to herself. She had thought the duke would be more subtle when he approached her but apparently he did not consider her gentle enough for the niceties. And his decision to approach her with this was so quick, too. All in the course of one night.
"Forgive me if I am explicit, ma'am, but since I am not speaking to a virgin, I hope my frankness will be forgiven."
"I hear a duke is forgiven everything," answered Violet, feeling the color steal up her neck.
"I hope it is not for that reason alone I am forgiven, but that my frankness is interpreted as sincerity."
"I hardly know you, your grace. Please forgive me if I am unable to distinguish frankness from sincerity."
"Of course," said the duke, "but we are drifting from the subject. Perhaps we can resume this chat in the terrace, where there is more privacy?"
"Whatever you desire to convey to me, your grace, will have to be done here, among a crowd of people—or not at all."
Must she always be rejecting propositions such as this one? She had felt a soaring unfamiliar feeling when she first met the duke and had hoped that in spite of the assessing look he had seen in his eyes as he gazed at her, that she was mistaken and he would not be as the others.
How naïve she had been in her hopes. He was no different.
"I see," he said. "Very well, Miss Durbin, as I said before, I am quite attracted to you and desire your company in a more intimate relationship. And to be more explicit, as my mistress."
"Of course," he added quickly, "I don't expect you to answer right away, if you feel you need time to consider it."
"On the contrary, your grace," answered Violet, as she aptly suppressed the tremor in her voice, "I can give you my reply right now, in fact."
"Before you answer," said the duke, "do consider that the society doors that are shut to you now would be instantly opened to you, as my companion."
"I do consider that, your grace. I consider these doors that you mention to be opened wide for the mistress of the Duke of Hawkinston.
I have been offered many enticements, your grace, in the hope of luring me to become this or that man's mistress—jewels, clothes, furniture—but this is the first time I have been lured by the opening of doors."
"Don’t be too hasty with your answer, madam," said the duke. "Perhaps I have not expressed myself with the eloquence needed on an occasion such as this. I hope my clumsy attempt will not be held against me. I do want to emphasize the enormous advantages you would enjoy: access to a lavish apartment that would be for your very own use, extended visits to my several estates, balls at which you would reign as queen—"
"Perhaps I have not expressed my response clear enough, your grace," interrupted Violet with a frown. "Let me make it clear then, that I have no interest in the position you are offering me."
"Position? I did not say it was a 'position.'"
"Really? Forgive me then for my assumption, for it sounded very much as though I were being interviewed for the 'position' of your mistress.”
"You have a way with words, Miss Durbin, that in no way detracts from your personality; on the contrary, it enhances it and proves to be a part of the charm you have over men, but I plead you do not use it in this occasion in particular, for it casts a cynical tone to our discussion. I merely asked you to become my mistress. I do not recall saying it is in any way a 'position' for which you are applying."
The answer is no, your grace."
"Miss, Durbin," said the duke anxiously, "take care you are not hasty with your answer, for you may be passing up an opportunity that at the present moment you are unable to gage entirely. Perhaps at home, and having given it careful thought, you will come to realize the immense social and monetary advantages of it."
"The answer is still no," Violet said firmly.
"You can never obtain a better offer, Miss Durbin," said the duke. "Surely you don't think a gentleman will offer you marriage, do you?"
"I fail to see why my marriage prospects or my lack of them should be any concern of yours. I have had no contact with you before this night. Who granted you the right, sir, to employ such familiarity in your tone when you address me?"
The duke, who had dealt with coy mistresses before and who considered Violet's words to be only small obstructions placed there by artifice to get the best offer from him before acceding was undaunted.
"As you must realize you will never get an offer of marriage from a gentleman, what then is your reason for refusing my offer, Miss Durbin?"
"I need a reason to reject the Duke of Hawkinston's offer to become his mistress?"
"Surely there must be one. There is always a reason for every human action."
"Very well, then, your grace, I shall provide you with a reason. The reason is that you expected me to say yes."
"And because you believe I expected you to say yes you are saying no—that doesn't make sense."
"It makes sense to me."
"So it's not because of virtue, it is merely because I expected you to say yes."
"I am surprised at your words, your grace; I thought that virtue held no consideration in your proposition to me, nor did your words convey the idea that you consider me to have any."
Violet felt sadness envelop her. This was a conversation he could only have with Violet and others of her "kind." He would never have approached a gently-bred girl with such a proposal.
The thought gave her a sudden pain in the pit of her stomach. No matter how much she tried to erase the past, pretend it hadn't happened, it was always there, lurking. It lurked in the eyes of every man who leered at her and thought her of easy virtue; no matter that she was irreproachable in manner and deed and had been for the last six years. And the well-publicized item that she was Lord Kelly’s illegitimate daughter—or by-blow as such children were referred to, only added to the disdain.
Those few weeks as the forced mistress of Alex Shackel would brand her for life. She would always be a strumpet in the eyes of society.
There was nothing she could do to escape it. And it hurt that the duke had leered at her in just the same manner as the rest. There had not been any difference.
From the first moment she had set eyes on him she had become very attracted to him. Never had any man given her such a jolt on a first meeting. She had felt an exhilarating liberating feeling which she had never felt before. She doubted that she would ever feel the same about any other man on the first meeting. Even now, she dared not look too closely into his eyes for there was for her an attraction that was not easy to define and one that called out to her in the deepest part of her being. Even so, she had not dreamed at that moment that a duke, next in line from a prince, would ever glance her way. He wished he had not.
He was made of clay just as the rest of them.
"You have surprised me with your answer," the duke added, "in that you declined my offer merely because you believe I expected you to say yes."
Violet felt a sudden sharp headache coming on. "I cannot believe that the Duke of Hawkinston can be surprised by anything anymore," she said wearily.
The dance now held no joy for her. She felt the burden of a past that had been forced on her like a cell with a lock she could never remove.
She viewed herself suddenly as the duke viewed her. So different from how she saw herself and the feeling brought her an immense sadness.
"I do not comprehend your meaning, Miss Durbin," the duke said, insisting on his same tract. "Is it perhaps you believe I am jaded?"
"Those are your words, your grace, not mine," she said, "You are a man of the world and used to making such proposi
tions. That you are surprised by little would be the obvious conclusion, for you expect people to act within their station. Well, let me tell you one thing, your grace. I am not to be classified, by you or anyone else.
“My explanation that I said no merely because you expected yes is merely a light covering to the obvious reason: my answer to your proposal will never be in accordance to what you have decided my 'class' would answer, but uniquely mine."
She looked deep into the duke's eyes as he stared at her.
"Good night, your grace."
Violet stopped dancing and turning on her heel left the duke standing by himself in the middle of the room.
The Duke of Hawkinston was oblivious to the curious glances and stares and even of the furious whispering.
His mind was blank to everything except to the fact that he had jumped to the conclusion that Violet would not dream of rejecting his offer.
He had expected her to accept and in the remote chance that she might not, he believed it would be only to increase the size of the apartment where she would be housed, the servants at her disposal and the jewels and income that she would receive.
He honestly had not dreamed that her answer would be so final and cutting.
He realized that he had repeatedly held her to words that seemed to have an ulterior meaning. This, too, had upset her and made her want to flee his company.
A fine mess he had made of it.
And he had been left standing in the middle of the ballroom before the dance had ended! But what was even more surprising was the fact that for the first time in his life he thought that Violet's treatment of him had been well deserved.
He should not have burst out with his offer right there at the ball, without any consideration at all for her feelings and her surroundings. He had been an insensitive prig and she was right in her reaction. She was certainly not to be treated as if she were a common courtesan.
After all, she had been recognized as his daughter by Lord Kelly and been given his name. She must be proud of such an accomplishment and here he had bungled in with his offer, without consideration that although Miss Durbin may be on the fringes of society, she nevertheless was in society.
He directed his steps to his host and after thanking Lord Kelly for the musicale, mentioned that he would be honored if Lord Kelly and his family accepted an invitation from him that would soon be forthcoming. As he seemed to expect Lord Kelly's answer in that same moment, Lord Kelly readily agreed, although he did so with no idea as to what kind of invitation he was agreeing, for the duke had not specified.
"Very well, Kelly, I shall send you the invitation shortly."
After saying this, the duke offered his apology for leaving the dance so abruptly, informing Lord Kelly that a previous engagement precluded him from staying any longer.
He was anxious to start all over with Violet and had little interest in a ball where he knew the woman would avoid him for the rest of the evening. Better to regroup at home and plan his next move.
He would, he realized, have to start all over with her, as he had bungled his first move.
The best kind of gathering would be at the castle, where at a house party he would have her company for five or six days. In that time he would convince her in a more subtle manner than he had done until now. His hospitality would dazzle her, as he knew how to give a party, and it would be obvious to everyone including herself, that all the preparations were in her honor.
Yes. That was the best plan. And in so saying the duke closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, for he had found the way to a solution to his problem.
CHAPTER 4
"Violet—"
Lady Kelly approached her daughter in the hallway and stopped. She sighed and beamed at the same time. She noticed that Violet was wearing her riding habit, a light bottle green well-fitted gown with rust velvet edging. Her glorious hair was partly hidden by a small chip bonnet with a matching velvet ribbon that was most becoming.
Sadie had never become used to Violet's beauty. A radiant splendor that emanated from her always startled Sadie anew, as it had done on this moment.
"You're going out?" she asked her.
"Yes, Mama. Jed is waiting for me. Don't worry," she assured her. Jed was the footman that accompanied Violet everywhere. "Rob and Sam are going with us, too, as I'm taking the carriage to the stables and then on to Green Park—"
"But Violet," interrupted her mother, "it's the day after the ball, flowers have arrived since eight—what am I going to tell the young men who come calling? They'll start arriving in less than an hour." She cast a worried look at the clock on the mantle.
"Tell them I'm out—but not where I went, Mama, promise me that. Aunt Bea will help you."
Lady Beaton, or Lady Bea, as everyone called her, Lord Kelly's sister, was one of the few friends Sadie and Violet had. Lady Bea was six years older than her brother and a kindly soul. She was tall and stooped. Violet and her mother were very fond of her and glad that she now made her home with them.
Her bad posture dated to her youth. For this and for her height there had been only one suitor she liked of the very few that had proposed and then that one had died a few days after the wedding, leaving her a title and a dilapidated house in Derbyshire that Lord Kelly had refurbished for her. This had been the only part of Lord Beaton's inheritance that had not been entailed. Lord Kelly managed it for her through an agent and she received a small income from the lease of it, enough for her clothes and pin money. She had never thought of marrying again and was now happy to be living with her brother.
With a great sigh of relief she had given over the management of Lord Kelly's household, both the townhouse in London and Kelly's Forester Hall in Surrey to Sadie when Sadie and Lord Kelly had married, for she felt too old for the daily problems that running a household entailed. She had overseen the household for Lord Kelly since the death of his first wife—Charles’ mother.
Unlike most of society, Lady Bea neither judged nor shunned Sadie and Violet. On the contrary, she had welcomed them with open arms—her long thin arms. But then as most in the ton knew, Lady Bea had always been eccentric. She wore strange bonnets and clothes, so out of style as to be of another era entirely. She looked all the time as though she had dressed for a masquerade, in her Elizabethan gowns and quaint velvet patches, of which she was extremely fond—and pale powder, lots of pale powder.
Sadie believed Aunt Bea bought the powder by the pound. On the few occasions they had attended a social event, she left the house in her regalia floating about in a cloud of shimmering dust, like a fairy godmother. But she was a kind soul and both Sadie and Violet had quickly become very fond of her.
Violet left soon thereafter. She chatted comfortably with her groom, Jed, as he rode his horse alongside her carriage.
Ever since Lady Arandale's kidnapping which Violet had been successful in thwarting, Violet never left the house except accompanied by Jed and Rob. Even when Rob drove her in the carriage two or three blocks away she had Jed with her. Lord Kelly insisted on it and she was eager to please her newly found father.
"I'm your shadow, Miss Violet," Jed said with a laugh.
"My trusty guardian angel, Jed," Violet answered. Violet was used to talking to her driver and grooms but they all knew that only in private were they allowed this casual association. Once Violet met up with friends or family, the grooms and the driver spoke only when spoken to. But in private, Violet could not pretend to be someone she was not. These were the people she had once associated with and she was friendly with them in private.
"There'll be a lot of young men coming to call, Miss Violet," said Jed companionably, as he rode alongside. "Just like last week. Mary told me there were ten bouquets for you."
"Yes, my hand hurt from writing all those thank you notes." Violet sighed, "And I will have to do the same this time, for I cannot be there to thank the young men in person, as I was not able to attend last week, either."
"At the very least
you won't be starving for your breakfast, Miss Violet, Cook filled the hamper to the brim."
"Did you tell her to put enough food for all three of you, Jed?"
"Yes, Miss, she put more than enough for all. How long do you think you'll be staying at the park?"
"All morning, I think."
Violet then mounted side-saddle her bay mare, Dalia, as she and Jed began at a walk. "Just see, Jed, not a soul to be seen and the mist makes everything seem otherworldly."
Then Violet and Jed reined in their horses abruptly, almost in unison, and glancing quickly at each other stared ahead at a rider opposite, rapidly gaining on them.
Violet's heart sank as she realized that the man who had cut through the mist was heading directly toward her. He was now near enough that Violet could recognize him as the duke.
As he approached, Violet's pulse quickened for she was certain the duke knew exactly whom he was approaching. He did not even feign surprise but said it outright.
"Miss Durbin, a fine day for a ride you've chosen. I commend you for your taste. Fortunately, I was due to exercise poor Galleon who suffers badly from little exercise in town and when I heard that you favor this spot for morning rides I could not but invite myself."
"I like to ride alone, your grace," said Violet coldly.
Couldn’t the man take no for an answer? No one could make her over into a harlot if she chose not to, not even the Prince Regent. Besides, Violet disliked being put into a position where she had to wrestle with her heart, for more and more she felt drawn to the duke—disturbingly so.
How could she be so attracted to a man who thought so little of her, who believed she could be coaxed into becoming his mistress just by biding his time? She was certain that was the duke's thinking. He probably thought that she was being coy just to gain more material benefits before succumbing.
"I am asking most humbly to be allowed your company, Miss Durbin," entreated the duke. "Besides," he added, "I have something of importance to convey to you."
"Another delicate offer?"