Cassandra had been standing there for minutes, looking down at the street as they went through a final list of things that needed to happen in the next four days before the gala. Cassandra’s attention had only been half on Violet as she had been ticking off the list, line-by-line.
Violet sighed to herself. “Is he out there again?”
Startled, Cassandra spun to Violet. “You know?”
“I do.” Violet shrugged and set the list down next to her on the cushion of the ivy-embroidered settee. They were nestled into the nook by the front bay window, the space too small for a gaming table, but large enough for two settees and four side chairs offering proper respite from activities. “Logan asked me if he should remove him from that open property across the street.”
“What was your answer?”
“I told him we didn’t have time for such nonsense.” Violet’s hand swooped through the air for effect. “We have only days until the gala. And I refuse to waste another thought on that man. There isn’t a spare moment.”
“Not a moment?” Cassandra’s eyebrow arched.
“No. Not one.” Violet ignored the disbelief in Cassandra’s eyes—ignored everything that had to do with emotion, just as she had since she had pulled herself together and come in from the gardens eight days ago. “Does he look as though he is just passing by?”
“Why?”
“I have something to return to him.” Theo’s book of names still sat in her office. Left here more than a week ago when he yelled at her about it.
“I have no idea on his intentions out there.” Cassandra looked back over her shoulder out the window. “After what you told me happened in the garden, I don’t understand why Theodore has been down there, on and off, for the last eight days now.”
“Days?”
Her face cringing, Cassandra looked back to Violet. “Logan didn’t tell you that part?”
“No.”
“Well, it has been days.”
Violet shook her head, dismissing the news. What Theo now did with his time was none of her business. He had been clear on that fact.
She reached to the side table to pick up her cup of tea. “His actions seem most unnecessary.”
“They do.” Cassandra nodded. “Is he hoping for a glimpse of you?”
“He would do far better to hover around the alley if that was his goal, as he knows I always come and go by way of the mews.”
“So why do you think he hovers?”
“I don’t think anything on the matter. I cannot afford to.” Violet took a sip of her tea, eyeing Cassandra above the rim.
“Well, just four more days, and then you can repay the loan to Mr. Olston and cut the last tie to Theodore. But still…his current behavior is odd. I thought he would stop after the first few days. Do you think he is worried about the portion of the mine he signed as the guarantee?”
“I have no idea what Theo hopes to accomplish out there. Nor do I care.”
Cassandra offered a half-smile and turned back to the window to look down at the open property across the street. “I just don’t understand how he could do this. That man loves you.”
“What?” Her hand suddenly unsteady, Violet set the tea cup clattering to the side table.
“When we were young—Theodore adored you like no other man I had ever seen look at a woman.” Cassandra’s attention stayed on the empty property below. “It was never when you were talking or dancing with him—how he looked at you—it was when you didn’t know he was watching.”
“How? How did he look at me?” Against her own good sense—she acted the idiot by continuing the torture of the conversation—the question slipped out of her mouth.
Cassandra glanced over her shoulder at Violet. “Like you were his air.”
Violet had to catch her breath. She shook her head. “That was five years ago, Cass.”
Cassandra shrugged. “Yes. But it was also a week and a half ago, as well.” She unfolded her arms, her right knuckles tapping on the lower frame of the window before she turned away to Violet. She walked toward Violet and sat on the wingback chair next to the settee.
“I never understood why he left five years ago—left you, Violet.” Cassandra set her elbow on the arm of the chair, her fingers picking at the rolled edging of the indigo chintz covering. “Yes, his brother died. It was a tragedy. But to leave you at the same time…it just never made sense. You should have been the one he turned to after that.”
A lump instantly formed in Violet’s throat. She picked up her tea cup and took a sip. “He was…he was trying to protect me then.”
“Protect you from what? You were an heiress. You were adored. A soon-to-be bright light of the ton. What did you need to be protected from?”
“Myself.” Violet sighed. “He was a third son and he didn’t want me to have to make the wretched decision my uncle was going to force upon me—Theo or my money.”
Cassandra’s nose wrinkled. “Your uncle is an arse.”
Violet nodded.
“But Theodore—a fool. I know you well enough to know what you would have chosen if only he would have given you the chance.”
Violet set her tea cup down on the side table. “But maybe not then—maybe Theo was right—maybe I wouldn’t have chosen him. I was young. He was young. Neither of us knew what we were doing. Who we were.”
Cassandra’s eyebrows lifted in serious disbelief of her words.
Violet threw a hand up. “You are right. I would have chosen him.” She shook her head. “And I lie to myself—we still don’t know what we are doing—who we are.”
Her head slanting to the side, Cassandra’s look softened. “You flog yourself unnecessarily, Violet. Whatever Theodore’s issues are, you are not to blame.”
“But he is? As much as I blamed him all those years ago for leaving me when we were young, it turned out he was only trying to protect me.”
The words were not out of her mouth for but two seconds before Violet jumped to her feet, rushing to the window. She scanned the barren property across the street, nestled between two townhouses. Construction on a new home had started eight months ago on it, and then had been abandoned before they had finished the foundation. She searched into the nooks and shaded corners. No Theo.
Why had she not considered this before?
She closed her eyes for a long breath. She was a fool for even thinking it. Or was she?
She opened her eyes, her look landing on the corner of the building next to the property where Logan had seen Theo leaning a day ago.
Theo had protected her all those years ago.
Was it possible he was protecting her today, as well?
If so, from what?
And did it even matter?
~~~
Of all the places Violet needed to be at the moment, standing outside a milliner’s shop and waiting for her new friend had not been on her agenda.
Lady Toplan had stopped by the Revelry’s Tempest earlier in the day, so excited about the upcoming gala that she asked if she could help with the preparations in anyway.
Violet was on her way to visit her goldsmith on Bond Street to give final approval on the souvenir markers she had commissioned for the gala, and Fiona had jumped on the offer to accompany her.
Aside from her generous loan, Fiona had become fast friends with Violet and Cassandra and had visited them regularly at the Revelry’s Tempest during the past weeks, always willing to help in the fun of planning the gala.
The woman was fascinating to chat with. She had lived in numerous places all over the continent, and every story she told brought out a wanderlust in Violet that she didn’t know she possessed. Location after location Fiona would expound on—all sights Violet would love to see someday, if she could ever find her way to leave the Revelry’s Tempest for a spell.
But for as much as Violet liked her, Fiona was currently impeding on the hundreds of tasks she needed to complete that day.
Violet leaned to the left, searching past
the display of hats in the front window of the shop to find Fiona. Fiona had promised it would be a quick stop to pick up her headdress for the evening of the gala, but now she appeared to be looking through a collection of feathers the milliner was showing her.
Foot tapping, Violet turned to watch the busy street, the people darting in and out between carriages and jostling down the pavement, and debated on whether she should dart in and excuse herself from waiting. Fiona did have a sizable investment in Violet’s bank at the moment, and could make life extremely difficult for Violet if she chose to pull her funding two days before the gala. For Violet to gather the funds needed for her bank in the last hours before the gala would be near to impossible.
Violet glanced back into the shop.
No. Better to wait with a smile on her face. In all of her visits to the Revelry’s Tempest, Fiona had always been more than respectful of Violet’s time. She would be out soon.
A sudden hand gripping her arm and yanking her to the side made Violet yelp.
She stumbled a step before she could look up.
Theo.
Of course. No one else would so rudely manhandle her. She hadn’t seen him. Hadn’t heard word from him since he left her in the garden. There had only been the reported sightings of him hovering about the Revelry’s Tempest.
And now he thought to accost her on Bond Street?
He hadn’t shaved in a day or two. Dark circles were etched under his eyes. His clothes sat slightly rumpled on his frame. Heaven help her, he wasn’t drunk and about to make a scene on the street in front of all of London to see, was he?
She jerked her left arm away, trying to escape his hand. His grip only tightened, tugging her along.
Her look swung around. He had pulled her away from the milliner’s shop and a step into an adjacent alley.
“Violet—you cannot trust her.” Theo’s voice was gravelly, as though he hadn’t spoken in days.
“Trust whom?”
“Lady Toplan.”
“What? What are you talking about, Theo? Lady Toplan is a perfect dear—somewhat outlandish, but she makes me laugh and is fascinating. We have become fast friends and she is nothing but a sweet—”
“I need you to trust me, Vee.” He shook her arm, emphasizing his words.
“Well, I don’t.” She reached up with her right hand, her reticule swinging, and tried to pry away his fingers. “You have absolutely no right to grab me in the middle of the street and make demands of me, Theo. I don’t trust you at all.”
“Vee.” He paused, growling to himself as he shook his head. “Dammit, you have to listen to me—”
“I have to do no such thing. You ended us, Theo—you.” Her hushed tone turned into a hiss. “So don’t you dare try to insert yourself into my life now.”
Theo suddenly jerked backward, dropping her arm as he drew himself to his full height.
For a moment, she couldn’t figure him, but then she followed his look over her shoulder and turned around. Fiona had exited the milliner’s shop and was looking back and forth along the street for her.
Fiona’s head turning, she spotted Violet, and with a quick wave and a smile, came toward her. “There you are. I had thought for a moment I had been abandoned.”
Violet tucked up under her bonnet a stray lock of hair that had fallen when Theo had yanked her along the pavement. She knew she was a sudden disheveled mess but did her best to set a calm facade onto her face. “I would not abandon you, Lady Toplan.” She took a step backward, motioning to Theo. “I understand you met Lord Alton when you and Mr. Olston went to discuss the mine with him.”
“Of course.” Fiona inclined her head to Theo. “Lord Alton was very gracious in answering my many questions that day. I know very little about mines, but I was anxious to learn.”
Violet chuckled, still trying to calm her clothing and rapidly beating heart. “Mines are not nearly as interesting as one might think they are. Suffocating to be exact.”
Fiona’s look swung to Violet. “Oh, now I remember you went down into Lord Alton’s mine. I had forgotten you told me of that adventure.”
“Adventure is a kind word for it.” Violet dared a quick glance in Theo’s direction. Whereas he had been brimming with fire and alarm a moment ago, he was now the picture of bored nonchalance. Remarkable. He was an expert at lying. How had she forgotten that fact?
She shook her head, stretching her smile wide as she looked at Fiona. “You are done? The milliner has your headdress ready?”
“He will. I wanted to change out several feathers, so it took a touch longer than anticipated. I apologize.” She glanced back and forth between Violet and Theo. “And I apologize for this as well as I did not mean to interrupt a conversation.”
“No. There was no conversation.” Violet took a quick step to place herself between Fiona and Theo. “Lord Alton was just wishing us the best of luck on the gala. He is anxious to get his full title to the mine back.”
“I imagine he is.” Fiona nodded, her green eyes moving past Violet’s head to look at Theo as a bright smile came to her heart-shaped lips. “Well, not to worry, Lord Alton. I am positive it will all be over in a few days’ time.” Her gaze shifted to Violet. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” Violet stepped to the side, offering a tilt of her head to Theo. “Lord Alton.”
He mimicked the motion, his blue eyes blank. “Lady Vandestile, Lady Toplan.”
Violet was walking before he finished. She had never wanted to escape awkwardness as badly as she needed to in that moment.
Being in Theo’s presence, his hands on her. It had turned her stomach upside down and sent her chest into spasms almost as horrific as she had suffered in the garden eight days ago.
She was done with him.
She had to remember that.
He was done with her. She was done with him.
Done.
Even if her body was intent on having a very different response.
~~~
Theo walked to the end of the block and then turned around, sliding into the inset open air vestibule of a butcher’s shop. He watched Violet and Fiona walk away. Fiona jabbering on, her hands animated. Violet laughed.
He had made a drastic mistake.
Fiona hadn’t believed him. She had seen right through his lies. She always had.
Even with proof—even though he had broken everything between him and Violet. Even though he had left her. Again. Proved that she meant nothing to him. Proved that harming Violet would not concern him in the slightest.
Fiona knew.
It had been a desperate gamble on his part—cutting Violet from his life—but he’d had no other option to deter Fiona. A gamble he had lost.
And the second he had removed himself from Violet, Fiona had swooped in. True to form. True to her expertise. True to everything he had taught her during the war. She was a spy of the highest order. A deadly spy.
And he had just inadvertently set that spy on the one person that meant more to him than anything.
His fist jammed into the brick wall behind him, drawing blood.
He had believed he was doing the right thing by leaving Violet. It was the best way to protect her from Fiona and the revenge he now knew she was after.
But he’d been wrong.
And now he was in no position to protect Violet.
He sighed, looking down at his bloody knuckles. Fiona had done it masterfully. Made him distance himself. And then wonder. Worry. Hover. Follow. Until he finally showed his hand on Bond Street.
Fiona had done all of it without a direct threat on Violet. And until she actually did threaten Violet, she was untouchable. She would always own the upper hand, for he had nothing to accuse Fiona of. He couldn’t very well throw her into a cell for making a new friend. And Violet would never believe him about her. At least not until she trusted him again.
Such beauty in how Fiona operated.
His choices had dwindled to one.
There was no other
way to protect Violet—truly his only chance to even possibly keep her safe—than to convince her to take him back. To convince her he had been wrong. That they belonged together.
Because they did. And not just because her life was very possibly in danger.
They belonged together, come what may. Come the fury of the damned.
But convincing Violet of that fact…convincing her to trust him again…
Now he just needed to accomplish the impossible.
{ Chapter 18 }
No. Not this.
Not when the night had been perfect.
Perfect on all counts.
The food. The entertainment. The fun. The betting. The mirth. The plump coffers. The laughter.
Success on every front.
Success Violet hadn’t been able to enjoy.
She had been positive something was going to explode, upsetting the entire night. A performer not appearing. Undercooked food. Heavy losses for her bank at the tables. Out of tune music. Bitter losers. The newly concocted games of chance falling to disinterest. Wild accusations of cheating.
Then, of course, there was the one worry that had topped the hundreds of things that could go wrong.
Theo showing his face.
But he hadn’t. And none of her other worries came to fruition. It was success beyond all her imaginations.
She had just made a sweep of the private card rooms and all were now empty. There were only a few stragglers left below in the ballroom, so deep into their cups of the delicious gala concoction of pears, lemons, oranges, sherry and cognac that they could not find the door and the early morning rays of spring sun.
All had been perfect. A resounding success.
So no.
Not this.
But there was her arm twisted high in the air beside her. It was yanked, pulling her body along with it and making her slippers slide haphazardly across the hallway floor as she was dragged into a private card room.
She wasn’t even surprised by the manhandling anymore. She knew exactly who she would see when she looked up.
Of Sin & Sanctuary: A Revelry’s Tempest Novel Page 17