“Hopefully it can continue,” Elias said. “After all that happened here last month, I realize they may not be as interested in sending fellows our way, but the blame can hardly be placed on our shoulders.”
“Father!” Iris exclaimed when Elias looked over at Westwood, as though he wanted to blame his newest son-in-law but wasn’t entirely sure how to do so. “It was no one’s fault.”
“Well,” Elias began, “They followed your husband here, Iris, and then Violet fell for that charlatan posing as an English soldier, and then Mr. Ridlington here didn’t say anything about his suspicions — though nor did you, Iris, so—”
“Well, I think there is enough blame to go around for all,” Owen said with what he hoped was an easy smile. While it was certainly not his place to interfere, he couldn’t help but speak when he felt Violet go rigid beside him at her father’s words.
It was true, she certainly had fallen for the wrong man, but now wasn’t the time to remind her of such — not when they were all sitting here. Did her father not know his daughter well enough to realize just how much his words were hurting her? Owen hardly knew her at all, and yet he could tell how much she would be bothered by it.
When he looked over at the young woman beside him, he couldn’t help the protectiveness he felt for her — even if it was against her own father. It was a strange sensation. He had certainly played the role of protector before, but not typically for a woman he hardly knew, and definitely not in any sense beyond protection from any physical harm. He was getting far too involved here. In fact, he shouldn’t be at this luncheon at all.
“Our apologies, Mr. Ridlington,” Daisy said with a forced smile, misreading his discomfort. “I am sure my father didn’t mean for it to sound as though he was blaming anyone.”
“Actually, I—oof!”
No one had said anything to further counter their father’s words, but a thud came from under the table, and by the look that crossed Iris’ face moments before she took a sip of the lemonade in front of her, he had a feeling that she had put an end to whatever was next going to come out of their father’s mouth.
“Well, then,” Daisy said as she folded her hands on the table in front of her. “How is everyone enjoying their meal?”
The remainder of the luncheon stayed fairly civil, and Owen wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. While he certainly didn’t want any of the women to feel uncomfortable, this was the most entertainment he had encountered in months.
When they finally finished, however, something was nagging at him that he couldn’t quite describe. He had a feeling, however, that it was something that was somehow going to come back and haunt him.
4
Violet had thought that she couldn’t have been any further embarrassed in front of Owen Ridlington. She was wrong.
So far, he had witnessed her choose to bestow her affections upon the most untoward man possible, had listened to her ramble away about a fictional story in the gardens, and now had sat through a luncheon in which her father basically accused him of bringing discord to the inn when all he had done was protect the lot of them.
She should leave it be, allow one of her sisters to explain things to him. Yet the moment their lunch was finished, she found that she couldn’t help herself from following him down the path to the beach.
“Mr. Ridlington?” she called, and when he didn’t turn, she hurried her steps and tapped him on the sleeve before she lost her courage. When he turned quickly, she stopped abruptly with a little jump.
“Miss Violet, what can I do for you?” he asked, and Violet wondered at the bit of a sparkle in his eye, but she continued, her words rushing forward.
“It’s just that… I wanted to apologize,” she said, her words stilted. “For my father. And the luncheon. And well, basically all that has occurred since your arrival.”
She squeezed her hands tightly together so that she wouldn’t flail them around, as she often did when she was nervous. She had never stood so close to the man before, and she hadn’t realized how much he would tower over her. As friendly as he was, there was also something somewhat mysterious about him, as though he had secrets hidden behind his handsome face and dark beard. His hazel eyes bore into her in a way that both excited and unnerved her. Why, she had no idea. She supposed it was because she had been around very few men like him before.
“There is nothing for which to apologize,” he said, and she nodded, noting that his words sounded quite patrician, and she wondered where he came from. “Is your father truly selling the inn?”
“I’m not sure if selling is the correct word,” she said, unable to meet his eyes any longer as she looked down to the ground. “He will still be involved, but it will be managed by another. The son of one of his closest friends.”
“In what capacity are you meaning to stay on?” he asked, and Violet had no idea what to say. That she might be the man’s wife? She hadn’t yet agreed to such a thing, however, so she was certainly not going to share such information with a man she hardly knew.
“That has not yet been entirely decided,” she said truthfully. “As you must realize, I have nowhere else to go.”
“I suppose one day you will be married,” he said, and her stomach seemed to churn as her ears grew hot. Why, she had no idea, for she had spoken of this many times before with her sisters and never had the subject caused such a reaction within her. It must be because now she might actually follow through with such a thing if she were to marry Linus.
“Perhaps,” she said before wiping her now-perspiring hands on her skirts. “Well, then, I shall be off. Good day to you, Mr. Ridlington.”
Violet began to walk away, but a strong, firm hand suddenly grasped her arm and she turned back to Mr. Ridlington in surprise.
“My apologies,” he said, “But one more thing before you go.”
“Yes?”
“The… unfortunate situation with Mr. Cooper— that is, the one in which he attempted to woo you—”
Violet swallowed hard. Why on earth was he speaking to her of this?
“I believe you were brave, to go with your sister to rescue Lord Westwood. Not many women would do such a thing.”
“Not many women would have been so deceived by a man like Mr. Cooper — or, Comtois, I suppose I should call him — either,” she said, hearing the bitterness on her tongue, but unable to do anything about it. The spy had lied to her and she had fallen for it, simply because she had been shocked that a good-looking man could actually be interested in her.
“He was a skilled liar. He came here with this intention,” Mr. Ridlington said, and Violet attempted what she hoped was a polite smile.
“I appreciate the thought, Mr. Ridlington,” she said. “Thank you.”
She turned and forced herself to keep a reasonable pace as she returned to the inn. Why this man caused her to be so disconcerted, she had no idea. He was just another guest, another soldier. Although he was a handsome guest, that she couldn’t deny. There was something about him that made her heart beat just a little faster. Which was ridiculous. She had hardly noticed him until recently, despite the fact he had been staying with them for some time now. Of course, she had thought she was attracted to another for a time, which seemed to have blinded her to all others.
But clearly, her own judgment was questionable, and she had vowed that she would never again be drawn in by an attractive man just because he showed her the slightest bit of interest.
No, she told herself, steeling her resolve. Owen Ridlington was handsome all right, but he was just a guest. Nothing more. If she was to marry, it would be to Linus.
So why did that thought fill her with dread?
* * *
There was one saving grace of being attached to this town for so long, Owen mused as he looked down at his scuffed boots the next day while he made his way to the stables next door.
It was that he had ample time to spend with his horse, Merlin. He had ridden the chestnut into town,
and he was glad now he had chosen to bring his favorite mount along. He hadn’t realized at the time how long he would be here, but a couple of months later this was beginning to feel much more permanent.
He was coming up behind the stable when he heard female voices beyond it.
“Just mount it, Vi.” That was Iris.
“You have to learn at some point in time. Why not now? What if you ever need to ride alone?” Daisy.
“I have not had any need to until this point in time. I hardly see why I need to start now.” And Violet.
“What if you have to go somewhere alone?” Iris asked. “You can hardly walk everywhere.”
“That has served me just fine throughout my life,” Violet replied.
“Yes, because we have always been here with you,” Iris said. “You will be alone soon, once we leave, and you will more than likely have a need to ride alone. Come. Up you go.”
He should leave them be. This had nothing to do with him, and he should walk by the meadow and continue on to his own horse. But he just couldn’t help himself. Owen turned the corner and braced his shoulder against the fence in order to better watch the entertainment in front of him.
Violet stood before her mount, arms crossed in front of her as she eyed it. A sidesaddle sat on top of the sturdy brown horse with black stockings, who stared lazily back at her, clearly not regarding the situation with the same seriousness as Violet.
Her hair was back away from her face but a bonnet covered it, which didn’t allow Owen to see the full range of her expressions. She wore a skirt of some kind of serviceable material along with her blouse, and he grinned as she began to speak.
“Sally,” she said, holding up a finger, “you know that I am not entirely thrilled about this situation. When I climb up, do not move. Do you understand?”
“Vi,” Marigold said, taking a step forward, “Perhaps it might be better if you are not quite so… abrupt with the horse.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Marigold, Sally doesn’t understand what Violet is saying,” Iris said in exasperation.
“I believe she does. At the very least, Violet’s tone—”
“Violet, just mount the horse already,” Daisy interjected, and Violet dropped her arms and sighed as she approached her.
“Very well.”
Violet stepped forward and grasped the pommel before lifting her foot into the stirrup at Sally’s side. She hoisted herself into the saddle, and with some grace she was soon on the horse’s back, though even from where he stood, Owen could see how white her fingers were where she continued to grip the pommel atop the saddle. He gave her credit for attempting what was clearly a fear of hers.
“Let go and hold onto the reins, Vi,” Iris said.
“No.”
“Violet, you must—”
“I said no!” she exclaimed in what Owen realized was the most emotion he had ever heard from her. Perhaps it was time he intervened. He pushed off the fence he had been leaning against and stepped forward.
“Good day, ladies.”
“Oh, Mr. Ridlington!” Marigold exclaimed as the three women on the ground turned in unison. “I didn’t see you there.”
Violet’s back was to him now, and she seemed to have no inclination to turn in his direction — likely because she was too afraid to move — but Owen noted how rigid her back became as she sat even straighter.
“I see you are attempting a riding lesson.”
“Attempt would be the word for it,” Iris muttered, and Owen chuckled.
“As it happens,” he said, looking at each of them in turn, “I have some practice in instructing new riders.”
“Do you, now?” Daisy said, her eyes lighting up. “Well, then, you are likely far more qualified than we are.”
“You told me that you knew what you were doing!” Violet said from the horse, and her sisters looked slightly chastised.
“We would have figured it out,” Iris said with a grin, “But if Mr. Ridlington has a better suggestion…”
“Actually, why do I not take over from you?” he asked, and the sisters exchanged glances with one another.
“Well, we do have a few other things we should see to…” Iris said, biting her lip.
“The two of you run along,” Daisy said. “I’ll stay nearby in case Violet needs anything. Would that be all right, Mr. Ridlington?”
“Just fine,” he said with a nod. “Not to worry, your sister is in good hands.”
As the women walked away, though not without a few backward glances, he rounded the horse to stand in front of it so that Violet could see him.
“Now, Miss Violet,” he said with a smile. “Let’s start with a question.”
“You really do not have to do this,” she said with a slightly pained expression. “I’m sure you have many other things to do which would be far preferable to this.”
“Not at all,” he assured her. “I am more than happy to assist. Now tell me, why are you so frightened?”
“I am not frightened.”
He said nothing but raised his eyebrows at her as he patted the horse’s neck.
“Very well,” she said with a sigh. “I fell off once when I was younger. I wasn’t seriously injured, but it was enough of a scare that I don’t like to ride alone.”
“How did you fall?”
She looked directly into his eyes then, and he was startled by the intensity of her gaze.
“We were visiting with friends of my father’s. As I was riding, one of the sons stepped out in front of the horse with a loud shout and spooked it. The horse bucked and I fell right off.”
She bit her lip.
“I know it wasn’t the horse’s fault, and yet, I am aware that such a thing could happen again at any time.”
“Well, Miss Violet,” he said, “Children can do cruel things sometimes for no reason whatsoever. But let me tell you something. This horse you are on now looks to be a fairly safe bet. She seems unconcerned about the death grip you have upon her pommel, which is something to be said. Animals can sense your emotions. Until you can trust yourself, trust your horse. Here,” he stepped closer to her and put his hands over hers, “let’s try holding the reins, now shall we?”
She stared at him for a moment before finally offering a mute nod. She allowed him to lift her hands up and transfer them to the reins. Her skin underneath his was soft and warm, and he had to fight the instinct to wrap his hands around hers.
“You’ve ridden before, then. Do you recall the particulars?”
She nodded.
“All right then,” he said. “Let’s get you moving.”
He walked the horse forward, and she followed obediently. It wasn’t long — a few turns around the meadow — before he had her trotting along, and even though her eyes were still wide, her knuckles white with their grip, her jaw was now clenched in determination.
“I’m sending you alone now,” he said, and when she nodded, he let go. As he watched her sit up tall on the horse while they moved around the meadow, he was filled with pride at how well she was doing. It was slightly ridiculous to feel such a way, but he couldn’t help himself.
And when she circled back, the smile that now glowed upon her face filled him with more joy than anything else had of late. Which scared him. His life was not one that allowed for any type of romance, which was beside the fact that he had no idea how she might respond to such an idea.
He had to be rid of these feelings, and fast. He could only see one way — by staying away from the woman.
So why was it proving so hard?
5
“How was the riding lesson?”
Violet halted suddenly in her steps and looked up, startled when Iris’ voice invaded the story that was leaping off the pages in front of her. She had been so engrossed in the tale that she hadn’t seen her sister standing in front of the bookshelf in the corner of the sitting room.
“My goodness, Iris, you startled me.”
“Well, I can imagine so.
You have your nose buried so deep in the pages within your hands that I cannot imagine how you see where you are going at all.”
“As it happens, I do perfectly well at walking and reading at the same time. In fact, I can do nearly anything while I read the book.”
“Except riding a horse and conversing with a handsome man.”
“Handsome?”
“Yes. Your Mr. Ridlington.”
Violet’s cheeks warmed.
“He certainly is not my Mr. Ridlington, Iris. He is simply a guest at the inn.”
“One who has taken considerable interest in you.”
“He pities me, more than anything,” Violet said, biting her lip, as she knew her words to be true. There was nothing between her and Mr. Ridlington, as Iris continued to suggest. No, the truth was far sadder. For she did feel something for him. He had awakened in her an attraction to a man unlike anything she had ever felt before. Certainly nothing like what she had thought she felt for Mr. Cooper, the man who had turned out to be a traitor and was simply using her for information about the inn and its guests. She knew now that she had simply been infatuated by him, that she had allowed herself to be charmed by his attention. It was ridiculous, and a mistake that she would not be repeating.
Which was why when it came to this man…
“See, I knew it!” Iris exclaimed. “That dreamy look has come over your face once more. Deny it or not, you do feel something for the man, Violet, and he must feel the same. For he’s hardly said a word to the rest of us, but I’ve seen the two of you speaking with one another.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
“I am not.”
Violet rolled her eyes at her sister, choosing to ignore her and her remarks.
“I am going to the bookstore. Would you like to come?”
“I would hardly call it a bookstore.”
“Fine, then. I am going to the book section of the general store after I finish this. Would you like to come with me?”
A Viscount for Violet: The Blooming Brides Book 4 Page 3