‘No, but I’m not greedy. You’re still pretty good value.’
‘How amusing.’
He chuckled softly. ‘Then I’m even more intrigued by your friend. Though under the circumstances I suspect she might not be so delighted to see me.’
‘No, maybe not.’ She had to admit she felt mildly apprehensive about that herself. Considering how determined she’d been in planning her escape, she wasn’t sure what Ianthe would think of her sudden decision to marry. She’d tried to explain in the letter Martin had delivered to Whitby, but she had a feeling her friend might not be completely convinced.
‘I just need a few moments...’ she unthreaded her arm from his gently ‘...on my own, if you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not. I’ll take a walk along the front. Slowly, of course.’
‘Are you afraid that I’ll bolt at the last minute?’ She smiled ironically, but he only looked sombre.
‘I’ve put all my cards on the table, Violet. I know what I want, but you must do whatever you wish. When you’re ready, if you’re ready, we’ll go to the Felstones’ house together.’
She watched him limp away, feeling a rush of gratitude. There was still time to change her mind, he was saying, if she wanted to—but she didn’t want to, she realised. Whatever else, life with him wouldn’t be dull. He might never be entirely respectable, but he wasn’t the man she’d feared he was either. Reprobate or not, he had more depth than she’d previously suspected. More pain, too, however much he tried to conceal it. He seemed to understand how she felt about her father as well and he did seem to have changed. He was prepared to change even more to marry her. She hadn’t seen him touch a drop of alcohol since the night she’d agreed to marry him.
Most importantly, he wanted to use her father’s money to build something, not just for himself, but for the good of others. He had a plan, a purpose, and he was prepared to let her live her own life, too. Most of all, he’d been honest with her about the nature of their relationship, hadn’t deceived her by pretending that his heart was involved. As long as she protected hers, too, they ought to be content.
‘Lance?’ she called out before he’d gone barely ten paces, pointing towards the Royal Crescent on the other side of the promenade. ‘That’s their house over there.’
He turned around slowly, meeting her gaze with a look of such searing intensity that she felt as if all the breath had left her body suddenly. He’d removed his hat and the combination of sun and sea breeze made his hair seem to glow with golden tints, making him look more ruggedly dishevelled than ever. He even looked younger, too, though his expression was stern, as if he’d been bracing himself for her to refuse him at the last moment.
She forced herself to start breathing again. He was, without any doubt, the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on—a realisation that seemed to be having a disturbing effect on her body, making her breasts and stomach tighten, so that she wondered if she were making a terrible mistake after all. She didn’t want to feel any kind of effect. That wasn’t part of their arrangement, not for seven years anyway. How mortifying would it be to want a man who didn’t want her back? Especially when that man was a renowned libertine!
Then he smiled and she forgot everything else.
‘Come along, then, Miss Harper.’
He started towards her and she found herself drifting forward to meet him, her feet seeming to move of their own accord.
‘You won’t regret it, Violet, I promise.’
He took hold of her hands as they met on the pavement, lifting them slowly to his lips and kissing each in turn. She felt a thrill of pleasure, unexpectedly touched by the gesture. He really did want her to be happy, it seemed. Maybe that in itself would be enough. Whatever other unsettling physical effects he might have on her, she could control them. There was certainly no need for him ever to know about any of it.
They walked arm in arm along the crescent to the Felstones’ house, though they’d barely entered the hall before Ianthe came hurtling out of the drawing room, enveloping her in a none-too-gentle embrace.
‘Violet! I’ve been so worried!’
‘I’m sorry. I got word to you as soon as I could, but the snow...’ She hugged her back just as tightly. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Ianthe took a step back and glared daggers at Lance. ‘You didn’t intend for any of this to happen.’
‘No, but...’ She looked between the two of them, wondering how to ease the atmosphere of tension. Ianthe looked as if she wanted to throw Lance out on to the street. Nine out of ten men would have quailed and fled from such a virulent glare, but he only bent his head courteously.
‘Mrs Felstone, I presume?’
‘You presume correctly.’
‘Then I’m honoured to meet such a good friend of Violet’s.’
‘Indeed?’ Ianthe’s voice was clipped with anger. ‘Then I’m sorry to inform you that the feeling’s not mutual.’
‘Captain Amberton?’
Ianthe’s husband, Robert, emerged from the drawing room at that moment, and Violet felt a surge of relief. At least he sounded civil. Not that she could blame her friend for being protective, but there was so much to explain...
‘Mr Felstone.’ Lance took the other man’s proffered hand with a smile. ‘I’m glad to meet you again under better circumstances.’
‘So am I.’ Robert turned to face Violet with a serious expression. ‘I hope you can forgive me for what I did. It wasn’t my wish to betray you.’
‘I know.’ She smiled reassuringly, too grateful at that moment to do otherwise. ‘You were trying to help.’
‘I was. And believe me, I’ve been reprimanded enough.’
‘Oh!’ She threw a quick glance towards her friend. ‘I hope I haven’t caused any trouble.’
‘No more than he deserved.’ Ianthe seized hold of her arm, throwing one last venomous look towards Lance before dragging her off to one side.
‘It’s all right.’ Violet threw an apologetic look over her shoulder. ‘He’s not as bad as I feared.’
‘So you said in your letter, but are you certain?’ Ianthe spoke in a fierce whisper. ‘You don’t have to go through with this. Robert and I have been talking and you’re welcome to—’
‘No! I know what you’re going to say and, no. I don’t want to live on your charity, although I do appreciate the offer.’
‘But marriage is such a big step.’
‘It is, but I know what I’m doing. This is my decision, not my father’s, and I was wrong about Lance. He wasn’t mocking me that first time we met at the ball and he isn’t a reprobate, at least not any more. In any case, we’ve come to our own agreement.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that we’re adapting our fathers’ plans to suit us. Half of my inheritance will go towards the new ironworks. The other half is for me to keep and do whatever I want with.’
Ianthe looked dubious. ‘Do you trust him?’
‘Yes.’ Violet surprised herself with the readiness of her answer. ‘He’s been a perfect gentleman most of the time.’
‘Most of the time?’
She gave an evasive shrug. She had the distinct feeling that mentioning her imprisonment in a freezing cold tower wouldn’t help Lance’s cause.
‘People aren’t always who we think they are.’
‘True.’ Ianthe threw a quick glance in Robert’s direction. ‘All right, if you’re certain, then I’ll support you.’
‘Thank you.’ Violet hugged her again. ‘Besides, if it doesn’t work out, then I can always run away again.’
‘Don’t joke. You’ll be trapped up there on the Moors with him.’
‘I was trapped here before with my father, but this marriage won’t be a prison, you’ll see.’
‘It won’t be.’ Lance approach
ed her solemnly. ‘But now I believe that it’s time, Violet.’
She looked around at the three faces surrounding her. It was hard to tell which of them looked the most anxious, though oddly enough, the sight was reassuring. The fact that they cared enough to be anxious made her feel warm inside, despite the fluttering of nerves in her abdomen. It still wasn’t too late to change her mind, but she liked him, she trusted him—and she was going to marry him.
‘Yes.’ She took his arm, all her fears dissipating in the sudden warmth of his smile. ‘It is.’
Chapter Eleven
‘Welcome to your new home, Mrs Amberton.’ Lance caught Violet’s waist as she stepped down from the carriage and twirled her around in mid-air. ‘I hope this is a better welcome than I gave you the first or second times. Shall we say third time lucky?’
‘I hope so.’ She felt breathless as he set her back on her feet. ‘It’s been a strange day.’
‘It has, but it went well, I think.’
‘Yes.’
It really had, she thought with some residual amazement. With just Robert, Ianthe, Mr Rowlinson and Martin in attendance, their wedding had felt intimate, personal and unexpectedly moving. Lance had been uncharacteristically serious, too, reciting his vows with a depth of feeling that had taken her by surprise. When he’d dipped his head to kiss her at the end of the ceremony she’d almost imagined that it was all real and not simply a marriage of convenience. For one fleeting moment, it had felt real.
He captured her hand in his as they entered the hall. To her dismay, she felt even more nervous now walking beside him, just as she’d felt uncomfortably aware of his close proximity in the carriage on the journey back. Not that she ought to feel any more uncomfortable, she reminded herself. Nothing between them had changed, not really. They’d agreed that nothing about their relationship would be any different, not for seven years anyway, and yet despite that, something was. They were married. Somehow that made a big difference.
What had she done?
‘Captain Amberton. Mrs Amberton.’ Mrs Gargrave greeted them with a look that bordered on approval. ‘I’ll have some tea brought to the drawing room.’
‘That won’t be—’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gargrave.’ Violet cut short Lance’s refusal. ‘Tea would be perfect.’
‘It would?’ He held open the drawing-room door, murmuring in her ear as she brushed past.
‘Yes.’ She accelerated quickly, alarmed by the tingling sensation that raced through her body as his breath tickled her neck. ‘We had enough champagne with Ianthe and Robert.’
‘True, though I’m afraid it didn’t make any difference. Your best friend still hates me.’
‘She doesn’t hate you.’
‘She doesn’t like me.’
‘No-oo.’ She felt compelled to be honest. ‘But she doesn’t know you, not yet. She only knows stories about the old you. You seemed to get on well enough with Robert though.’
He made a non-committal sound and she stopped in the middle of the room, spinning around in surprise. ‘What’s wrong with Robert?’
‘Nothing, annoyingly. I’d like to detest the man, but I can’t.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘For all the wrong reasons.’ Lance dropped into his armchair with a thud. ‘Because he’s intelligent and successful and has a wife who gazes at him adoringly.’
She blinked in surprise. ‘Do you want me to gaze at you adoringly?’
‘I could hardly expect that.’ He slouched further down in his chair and stared broodingly into the fire. ‘Only you don’t have to look at him in the same way, too.’
‘I do not! He’s Ianthe’s husband!’
‘Yes, and a paragon of male virtue. The man has no right to set such high standards.’
Violet took a seat on the sofa opposite, amused by his petulant tone. He sounded almost jealous, though surely he couldn’t be...could he?
‘I never thought of it before, but I suppose he does set a high standard...’ she feigned a wistful-sounding sigh ‘...and he’s very handsome.’
‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘A talented businessman, too.’
‘As I said.’
‘Quite perfect really.’
‘In your opinion.’ Lance’s tone was distinctly annoyed.
‘Not really.’ She relented at last. ‘He’s perfect in a lot of ways and definitely for Ianthe, but I’ve never thought of him like that.’ She tilted her head thoughtfully. ‘I wonder why not.’
‘Never?’
‘No. Not even when he used to visit my father to discuss buying the shipyard.’
‘Visit?’ His gaze seemed to sharpen. ‘You never told me about that. Was it often?’
‘I suppose so. Once a week maybe.’
‘Was he kind to you?’
‘Very. More than he needed to be.’
‘I suppose you never thought he was mocking you?’
‘Never, but then he never chased me across the moors or locked me in a tower either. It makes him seem quite boring now.’
‘Really?’
Lance looked faintly pleased and she couldn’t resist smiling back.
‘I suppose I like adventure more than I thought. Oh, thank you, Mrs Gargrave.’ She looked up as the housekeeper reappeared with a tea tray. ‘I can manage from here.’
‘Of course, Mrs Amberton, but just so you know, your new rooms are both ready.’
‘Our what?’
Lance’s tone hardened abruptly and the housekeeper’s spine stiffened like a ramrod. ‘I presumed that you’d want to move back into the family quarters now that you’re married. I’ve prepared both your parents’ old rooms.’ She pursed her lips primly. ‘I wasn’t sure which you’d be using tonight.’
‘Neither! And you presumed wrongly.’
‘That was very thoughtful of you.’ Violet interjected again. ‘We appreciate your efforts, Mrs Gargrave.’
‘Very good, Mrs Amberton. I’ve already moved your belongings.’
‘Then you can damned well m—’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gargrave. That will be all for now.’
‘Damned woman!’ Lance burst out of his chair as the housekeeper closed the door behind her.
‘She was only trying to help.’
‘Help?’ He snatched up a glass from the sideboard and then remembered himself, putting it down again without filling it. ‘She’s been trying to make me move rooms ever since I got back. Typical of her to use today as an excuse!’
‘Ye-es.’ Violet chose her words with care. Uncomfortable as she was with the subject of their sleeping arrangements, the strength of his reaction surprised her. ‘But I suppose it might look suspicious for us to be sleeping at opposite ends of the house.’
His eyes flashed accusingly. ‘Are you on her side now?’
‘No, but those are the family rooms. Maybe we ought to be using them.’
‘We should be allowed to sleep wherever we want. It’s our house!’
Despite his temper, she felt a warm glow at the words. Our house. Somehow she’d always thought of herself as a guest even in her father’s house, somebody who was tolerated under sufferance, and yet Lance seemed more than willing to share his home. All except for the family quarters.
‘Why don’t you want to use those rooms?’ She remembered his tense reaction that first day when she’d suggested looking at the maze from Arthur’s window. It had seemed strange at the time.
‘They’re family rooms. I’m not part of a family any more.’ His voice sounded strained.
‘You mean it’s too upsetting?’
He gave a small nod and then sighed. ‘I mean I don’t have the courage to face it.’
‘Then maybe it’s time.’ She made the suggestion as gently as she could. ‘We’ll go t
ogether, if you like. You came with me to my father’s house today.’
She reached out a hand before she could think to stop herself, but to her surprise, he took it.
‘As I recall, it only ruined your morning.’
‘Not completely.’ She swallowed, trying to keep her mind on the subject. She’d never touched his hand without gloves before and his fingers felt warm and strong, sending a vivid tingling sensation up her arm and all through her body before it pooled in her stomach. ‘I won’t deny that it was difficult at the time, but it helped me, too. I’d like to repay the favour.’
‘Very well. Since I made you do it...’ He tightened his grip slightly, his eyes darkening as he stared across at her. ‘You do realise that Mrs Gargrave expects us to share a bed tonight?’
‘Yes.’ She dropped her gaze, struck with the uncomfortable impression that he could see straight into her mind. Their hands were still joined, his fingers interlaced with hers, making her skin feel red-hot suddenly.
‘Then again, I don’t suppose she’ll be peering in at the keyhole. Now there’s an unpleasant thought.’ He gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘All right, I’ll let her win this time. Back to the family rooms it is, but don’t get used to it. You won’t have time.’
‘What do you mean?’ Violet looked up again in alarm, but he was smiling.
‘It means that I thought you might enjoy a honeymoon.’
‘We’re going on honeymoon?’
‘No. You are. I’m afraid I have work to do, and besides, I thought you might enjoy it more with your friend Mrs Felstone. I spoke to her perfect husband about it after the wedding.’
‘Is that what the two of you had your heads pressed together about? It all looked very secretive.’
‘It was. I thought I’d have more success speaking with him than his wife. Somehow I doubted she’d appreciate the offer coming from me. I suggested Scotland for six weeks, but he refused to be parted from her for so long. We compromised on a month, providing she agrees, of course. The weather’s positively summery now.’
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