Now he had a decision to make. Did he attempt to restore those dreams to her head, filling the role of hero? For he didn’t know what sort of hero he would make. He could very well be an absentee husband who could never give her the attention she deserved.
He sighed. For now, this was not something he had the time to question. While he didn’t want to put anyone in any further jeopardy, he secretly wished that Comtois would come here and attempt an attack on the inn, for if he could capture him once more then he could put this entire business behind him. And then he would make his decision — woo Violet, or leave The Wild Rose Inn in Southwold and never return.
* * *
“Pistols up! Aim! Fire! That’s it, very good, men, very good.”
Violet watched Owen’s militia from a shaded spot at the edge of the meadow, a place where she was hidden from view of them all — most especially Owen. She had no wish to either get in their way or for him to know that she was watching him. She simply couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t spent any time at all with him over the past few days. They had barely even spoken, unless one counted his “Thank you” when she served him dinner. Hardly the most romantic words one ever heard, and they certainly would never be found on the pages of any of her novels.
She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, though. Tell Owen that she couldn’t even think about Linus when her feelings for him ran much deeper than she could have imagined? He had kissed her, true, but perhaps it had just been a moment between the two of them, one that didn’t extend past soft-spoken words in the beauty that had surrounded them.
“Vi?”
Violet jumped when Iris called her name and turned to see her approaching from the path that connected the inn with the meadow.
She hoped her sister would assume she was just passing by.
But Iris was more astute than that.
“You are watching your Mr. Ridlington?”
“No, of course not,” Violet said, her face warming. “I was interested in seeing what they were doing out here, that’s all.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Iris said with a grin, and Violet sighed.
“I’m not sure what to think, Iris,” she confessed, and Iris tilted her head as her smile faded and she regarded her sister with much more seriousness. “I thought that, perhaps, there was something there, but even if Owen—that is, Mr. Ridlington—does feel something toward me, clearly everything else that is occurring is much more important.”
“Maybe it is important to him because he is protecting you,” Iris pointed out, and Violet looked down at her hands.
“Perhaps. But I think this is what drives him — the ability to fight for others in whatever way he can, no matter who they are.”
Iris bit her lip. “He spends all day training, then goes on watch until another relieves him,” she said. “The man hardly has time to eat and sleep.”
“I know.”
“Yet still, one cannot help but want to be acknowledged by the man she loves.”
Violet looked up at her sharply, seeing the amusement in Iris’ crystal blue eyes. “I do not love him!”
“Do you not?” Iris questioned, raising one of her shapely eyebrows. “It is not as though your head is never in the clouds, Violet, but the past few days you have hardly opened your mouth to respond to anything anyone says to you. Why, you’ve been walking around in a daze, and yet I have hardly seen a book in your hands. I believe it is because you are in the midst of your own love story, with your Mr. Ridlington.”
Violet cringed. “Perhaps you have some of it right, but the story, I believe, would be one of my own making. Oh, Iris, I hardly know what to think any longer!”
“Well I know one thing,” Iris said. “You simply must tell Father that you want nothing more to do with Linus Anderson. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more horrid man!” She paused for a moment. “Well, perhaps Ernest Abernathy. But Linus may be far more annoying. I still have not forgiven him for spooking your horse all those years ago. My goodness, Violet, you cannot actually be considering spending your life with such a man!”
“He is not that terrible…”
“He truly is.”
Violet sighed. “I suppose you are right. I tried to talk to Father about it once already, but he told me that the deal is basically complete. It seems he wasn’t quite aware of just how adamant Linus was that the hotel came with a bride.”
“Listen to what you are saying, Violet,” Iris admonished her. “That it comes with a bride! You will be nothing more than a servant to the man. A servant who must go to his bed! No, Violet, absolutely not.”
“I just don’t know how to say no to him, and to Father, now that all has been arranged. Our parents have done so much for us, Iris, that I must at least consider this possibility.”
“They raised us, Violet, just as any parent should,” Iris argued. “They fed us and clothed us, gave us a roof over our heads, true. But we basically worked for it. We’ve spent our lives slaving at this inn.”
“Working for our parents, as do most children,” Violet countered, and Iris sighed, placing her hands on her hips.
“You are a much better person than I, Violet, to be so giving. You always see the best in others. But you have also always had the most romantic heart I’ve ever known. You dream of more, Vi. Allow those dreams to come true. Do not settle.”
Violet took one more long look across the meadow at Owen. She seemed to be able to find him in moments, despite the fact that the meadow was dotted with men.
Her heart had known the truth long before her head. She loved him. She loved him for his bravery, for his compassion, and for his instinct to put others before himself.
Now, what was she going to do about it?
11
Owen knew he should just leave the situation be. Linus Anderson and the inn were really none of his business. But he just couldn’t keep himself from having a bit of fun at the man’s expense — and, if he were being honest with himself, he did have a few ulterior motives. He had spotted Violet watching their practice earlier that day but hadn’t said anything. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Until he knew whether or not there was any future for them, he had to stay away or he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her. But that didn’t mean he had to like the fact that there was another vying for her affections.
“Anderson!” Owen called as he entered the family dining room and saw the man’s retreating back. Anderson continued to insist that he was part of the family and not one of the guests.
The man reactively looked back before obviously thinking better of the action and attempted to pretend he hadn’t heard Owen. But with a few long strides Owen caught up to him, and Anderson had no choice but to turn to him.
“Ah, Ridlington. How are you today? Busy with your little soldiers?”
Owen raised his eyebrows.
“My little soldiers are coming along just fine. And, in fact, we would be pleased for you to join us if you’d like. I’m still awaiting your response.”
“Ah, ha…” Anderson said, his eyes flitting from one side of the corridor to the other. “As much as I would enjoy partaking, I find myself otherwise occupied. As a matter of fact, since we are now speaking anyway, there is something of which I would like to talk to you about.”
“Very well,” Owen said, crossing his arms over his chest. This should be interesting.
“It seems to me that the very threat to this inn, and this town for that matter, is due to the soldiers who are currently making their home here. Would not the best solution to this threat be for you all to simply leave?”
Although he bristled at the man’s suggestion, Owen had already thought of this himself. It was not, however, his decision to make, and besides, he felt it was too late now to diminish any potential threat.
“Comtois would not know that we are no longer here, and therefore the inn would be left defenseless,” he said and had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling when he saw how Anderson paled
at the words as he realized that he would be left here without anyone to fight for him. “You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”
“Of course I would not want… the women here left alone,” he said. “As for myself, I am unsure of just how long I will be staying at this particular time. I had hoped to be married and assuming my duties immediately, but apparently, there has been a bit of a misunderstanding.”
“Oh?” Owen asked, attempting to appear disinterested.
“Yes, the bride is not quite as willing as I had thought she would be. She’ll come around, however.”
“She will, will she?”
“Yes, of course. Her father has promised to have a stern discussion with her on this very day. Then I will take her for a walk, charm her a little, and all will be well. Why, you may even be here for the wedding.”
Owen managed a grim smile, realizing by Anderson’s own sly grin that he seemed to be more aware of Owen’s feelings toward Violet than he would have wished.
“Well, I wish you the best of luck,” he said as he took his leave, unable to stand another moment of this conversation. Anderson had proven himself to be the coward Owen had suspected.
“Violet!” he heard Elias Tavners shout from down the corridor. “I must speak with you.”
Violet emerged from the kitchen, stopping suddenly when she saw Owen. Her hair was pulled back from her face, a scarf around it, her cheeks pink with warmth from the kitchen. Her work dress was made of a stiff, ugly fabric, and yet nothing could diminish the beauty that radiated from her.
Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to run to her, pick her up and take her from here to his home, where she would have others doing such work for her, where she wouldn’t have to worry about cooking, cleaning, making beds, or hiding from French spies.
Well, she may still have that last worry.
She stared at him, her eyes speaking the volumes that her words did not.
“Owen,” she began. “I—”
“Violet!”
“I must speak with my father,” she said, her expression turning into steely resolve, and then she turned and followed Tavners into his study.
Knowing what this conversation was about, Owen had an urge to run in, slam the door behind him, and tell Elias Tavners in no uncertain terms that he, the Viscount of Primrose, was going to marry his daughter no matter what other agreement had been made.
But this must be Violet’s decision. Then, he had his own to make.
One thing he did know — he was nearly finished with The Wild Rose Inn and the men who portended to care for it. He’d see this through and then be gone.
Whether or not Violet would be with him remained to be seen.
* * *
“Violet, come in, come in,” her father said, all jovial spirits as he waved to the ripped chair in front of his desk.
“Father,” she said before he could speak. “I know what this is about.”
He reddened. “I’m not sure—”
“Is it about Linus Anderson, marriage, and this inn?”
“Ahh— yes.”
“Right. Well, I have come to a decision about all of this.”
“Well, that’s the thing, Violet,” he said, wringing his hands together now in front of him. “When we initially spoke of this, I was under the impression that you would have more opportunity to make a decision than I first thought. It seems that Linus, the dear boy, is so infatuated with you…” he gave an uneasy chuckle. “…that he simply must have you as his wife.”
She gaped in silence.
He offered another breathy laugh, beads of sweat appearing on his brow. “Now if that isn’t true young love, I don’t know what is.”
Violet stood and leaned over, placing her hands on her father’s desk in a display of emotion that seemed to shock him, for she was never one to do so. Iris, yes, but Violet…
“I do not care what you agreed to, Father,” she said vehemently, all of the pent-up emotion that had been filling inside of her now overflowing. “All I agreed to was to meet Linus and spend time with him to determine if this was what I wanted. And I must tell you, things have changed. I do not wish to marry him and stay here at the inn. I know that is what you wanted, Father, and I am sorry to disappoint you, but it simply cannot be. He is arrogant and presumptuous, and I have spent much of my life working as hard as I can to make this inn prosperous, and at the very least, I would like to be with a man who would help me to do so, not work me like a slave.”
She took a deep breath, noting when she did so that her father’s jaw had gone slack, his mouth open in shock that she would speak to him in such a way. She knew she had likely crossed the line, that there was no going back now, but it seemed that since she had opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop the flow of words that emerged from it.
“For all of our lives we — all four of us — have done your bidding. I know that is what is expected of us, but Father, you have done nothing to make this inn any better than what it is. Maybe if you took some of the earnings and truly put them into improving this place then we could charge more, and you could make more and hire another maid or two in our place and then you wouldn’t have to marry me off. But no, instead you gamble it all away and then beg your daughters’ husbands for more!”
Violet was breathing heavily now, her hands on her hips as she stared at her father. Now that she had said all that she wanted to, guilt and fear tempered her anger. She had gone far past where she should have stopped. She stood, waiting for her father to bellow at her, to tell her to get out of his study, to leave the inn and to never return.
But he just sat there, staring at her. His jaw worked a couple of times beneath his gray beard, but no sound came out.
Finally, she said softly. “I will just leave, then,” and he held up a hand to stop her.
This time when his mouth opened, he managed a few words. “Violet,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“Pardon me?” she asked, incredulity overcoming all else.
“I’m sorry,” he said a little louder this time as he ran a hand over his face and his hair. “You are right.”
He looked down at his desk as though he was unable to lift his gaze to her. “I have failed you. I failed you all. It was just… once I lost some money down at my card games, I couldn’t stop. I kept thinking, I’ll play again and make it back. If I bet once more, I can overcome my losses. And then I win and I think, I can do so again. But…” He shook his head. “I’ll speak to Linus. I’ll tell him we must renegotiate our deal. I’m sure he will understand.”
Violet wasn’t so sure about that, but at least she wouldn’t end up married to the man.
“Thank you, Father,” she said, sitting down once more and reaching across the table to take his hand. “I appreciate it. And I’m sorry… for some of the things I said.”
“It was the truth,” he admitted. “I suppose I have some planning to do now. Your mother and I will not be able to keep up with this place forever, and I did make a deal with George.”
Another wave of guilt assaulted her, but Violet thought on all that Iris had said to her. She couldn’t give up her whole life. She would find another way to care for her parents. For goodness sake, her sisters were married to noblemen. They could determine some solution.
“I’d best go finish supper,” she said when she noticed her hands were shaking, and she made for the door before tears began to slide down her face.
She opened the door to see Iris scurrying down the hall, which caused a laugh to overcome her sorrowful feelings.
“Iris!” she called, and her sister turned, biting her lip.
“You caught me.”
“You never change,” Violet said, shaking her head.
“Well, I’m afraid I couldn’t hear much, what with the keyhole being blocked and all,” Iris said sheepishly. “But from what I heard… oh Violet, you stood up to Father. I cannot tell you how proud I am.”
Violet shook her head.
<
br /> “I went too far, said too much—”
“I think you said what you needed to for him to listen,” Iris said. “And thank you for doing so. You did what the rest of us should have ages ago. Now,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “Does this mean that you will be declaring your love for your Mr. Ridlington?”
Violet was filled with nerves anew.
“I have no idea if he feels the same. He has hardly looked my way in days.”
“Maybe that’s because he thinks you are going to marry Linus Anderson,” Iris said, rolling her eyes. “Just talk to him, Vi. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.”
“Very well,” Violet said, clenching her hands together to stop their shaking. “Owen Ridlington,” she muttered, “I’m coming for you.”
12
Owen was surprised to find a message had arrived for him that evening. He had been eager — and yet equally apprehensive — about finding time to be alone with Violet, to learn more of her conversation with her father. Had she chosen Linus Anderson and the inn, or was she going to pursue more for herself?
If she did… well, he had a few things he would like to say to her. Promises, perhaps. At the very least, he was beginning to feel that he had to tell her exactly what he thought of her, and then allow her to make her decision. He glanced down at the note in his hands.
Lord Primrose,
We have no leads on Comtois at this time, so I require you to remain in Southwold. I apologize that we cannot spare any additional men to aid you.
I write with some unsettling news. I regret to inform you that last night, there was an attack on your estate. There was hardly a soul about, but your butler suffered injuries when the men forced their way in. Nothing was stolen, for it seems they were looking for you.
There is no need to return, but I would suggest that you remain on diligent watch, though I have no doubt that if there was ever a man who could look out for himself, it would be you.
A Viscount for Violet: The Blooming Brides Book 4 Page 7