by Bree Wolf
Lady Silcox took a step toward her daughter, her eyes gentle. Her voice, however, was determined. “I apologise for the deception, my dear. Still, I thought it prudent to hear Lady Cullingwood out. After all, it serves no one to jump to conclusions.” When her daughter opened her mouth in protest, Lady Silcox silenced her with a gentle hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Then she turned to Violette.
“Thank you for your letter,” Lady Silcox said, an honest smile on her face as though she had no reason to dislike Violette for her presence here in London. Her brown eyes were warm as they travelled over Violette’s features, no doubt taking note of the similarities between her and her mother’s portrait in the gallery at Silcox Manor. “After the few details my daughter shared with me, I must say I am fairly curious.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she all but stared at Violette. “How did you come to be here, child? Everyone thinks you dead. You and your mother.”
Relieved to have at least one willing listener in Lady Silcox, Violette bade them both take a seat before she herself settled into the armchair nearest the pianoforte. “I admit I am surprised at your willingness to hear my reasons for returning to London,” Violette said, feeling strangely at ease in her stepmother’s company. “My revelation gave Lady Juliet quite a fright, and I apologise for not having seen it coming.”
Lady Silcox smiled. “Naturally, I am concerned about the consequences to my marriage and my son’s legitimacy should your mother’s survival become known,” she stated, a hint of tension in her shoulders as she met Violette’s gaze. “However, I find that nothing good ever comes from sticking one’s head in the sand and ignoring that which is. In fact, one is most prepared if one is aware of all there is to know.”
Impressed by the lady’s words, Violette tried her best to ignore her sister’s furious eyes. “Well, then I shall tell you all you wish to know.”
“Thank you.”
Inhaling a deep breath, Violette contemplated where to begin. “I do not wish to speak ill of my father,” she said, wondering how the new Lady Silcox felt about her husband, “however, my mother was never happy in her marriage to him. Still, I doubt she would ever have attempted to leave him had it not been for my sake.”
“Your sake?” Lady Silcox asked, a soft frown on her face as she tried to understand. Next to her, Lady Juliet leaned forward ever so slightly as the hatred vanished from her eyes, replaced by utter curiosity. “How so?”
Violette swallowed, hoping she would not offend the lady. “She knew that my father had agreed to a betrothal of myself to Lord Dowling once I would come of age.”
“I see,” Lady Silcox mumbled, her lips thinning as she cast a glance at her daughter. “And so, she took you away? To spare you such a fate?” A hint of sadness and regret rested in her brown eyes.
“She never planned to,” Violette assured her. “It was rather as though fate intervened when it sent my father…eh…Captain Duret to the beach below Silcox Manor one night.” A smile came to her lips at her parents’ love story. “They knew instantly that they belonged together, and he offered to take us away.”
A wistful smile on her face, Lady Silcox nodded. “And she wrote the letter to prevent your father from seeking to retrieve you,” she whispered. “To set you free.” A proud smile came to her lips. “She’s a brave woman, your mother.”
Violette nodded, taken aback by Lady Silcox’s compassionate reaction. It was as though she, too, had prayed for fate’s intervention, but had not been granted such a reprieve. “She is,” Violette mumbled, blinking back tears at the range of emotions on the lady’s face. Despite her own turmoil, she held herself with pride and grace.
“Then why have you returned now?” Lady Silcox asked, a slight catch in her voice. “What if your father learns of your presence in London?”
Violette’s gaze travelled to her sister, willing her to see that she meant them no harm. “I came,” she whispered, “because I happened to see Lady Juliet’s betrothal announcement to Lord Dowling in the paper.” The young woman drew in a shuddering breath, and her gaze dropped to her folded hands in her lap. Turning to her sister, Violette chose her words with care. “I need to apologise.”
Lady Juliet lifted her gaze, her green eyes clouded as she searched Violette’s face. “Apologise?” she whispered, her hands clenched in her lap.
Violette nodded. “Twelve years ago, fate intervened on my behalf and saw me safe,” she explained, remembering the relief she had felt at leaving Silcox Manor behind. “All of a sudden, I was free. Free to choose my own path, and I never looked back. Not until I read his name…and then yours.” Swallowing, Violette remembered the utter shock she had felt in that moment. “I didn’t even know who you were. I didn’t know that you were my stepsister, but I couldn’t help but feel…responsible for the fate imposed on you because it was my fault.”
Lady Juliet swallowed, her eyes wide and glistening with tears as she stared back at Violette.
“I left,” Violette continued, “and now you have to pay the price for my freedom.” Shaking her head, she held her sister’s gaze. “I cannot allow that to happen. So, I came back.”
Reaching out a gentle hand to her daughter, Lady Silcox frowned, herself blinking back tears. “What do you mean?” she asked, her hand curling more tightly around Juliet’s.
Violette sighed, “I cannot help but think that it was highly unlikely for me to see your betrothal announcement. And yet, I did.” Offering her sister an encouraging smile, Violette held her gaze. “To me, it feels as though fate is once more determined to intervene. It sent me here to give you a choice. The same choice my mother was offered twelve years ago.”
Lady Silcox’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. Lady Juliet, however, sat there like the picture of misery, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped as she stared down at her hands.
“You mean…?” Lady Silcox began before her voice failed her. Still, her brown eyes were watchful, studying Violette’s face as though she could not believe the conclusion her mind had drawn for she did not even dare utter it.
Violette nodded, and Lady Silcox’s hand squeezed her daughter’s more tightly. “How?”
“I’m not certain,” Violette admitted for she truly had no idea what to do. “In the end, it all depends on what it is that you want,” she told her sister, relieved to see that Juliet would at least look up and meet her eyes. “I do not believe that you want this marriage, and yet, I need to ask for the choice is yours. All I can do is offer you an alternative.”
Inhaling a deep breath, Lady Juliet closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them again, a grim determination rested in their green depths that sent a chill down Violette’s spine. “There is no choice,” she replied, bitterness tinging her voice. “My life is here, and I–”
“Perhaps we should discuss this before making a decision,” Lady Silcox interrupted, her brown eyes pleading as she looked at her daughter and placed a cautioning hand on hers.
Gritting her teeth, Lady Juliet glared at her mother. “How can you say this?” she hissed, pulling her hands from her mother’s grasp. “You cannot be serious!”
“Child, please–”
“No!” Lady Juliet surged to her feet, her eyes angry, and yet, full of sorrow. “There is no choice!” she all but yelled, her gaze frantic as it shifted from Lady Silcox to Violette who tried their best to approach her with care. “Our…betrothal was agreed upon, and–”
“Did you agree to it?” Violette challenged her, unable to understand her sister’s reluctance to even contemplate a different course. Still, Violette had grown up accustomed to having choices whereas Lady Juliet had always been denied thus.
Her sister swallowed. “It does not matter,” she replied, thus answering Violette’s question. “I cannot break this contract. A betrothal cannot be undone without serious repercussions.” She drew in a stuttering breath, and fresh tears came to her eyes. “I would be ruined.” She shook her head vehemently, dabbing a handkerchief to the corner
of her eyes. “No, it is too late for reconsiderations.” She started toward the door.
“Your words suggest that you do not wish to marry Lord Dowling,” Violette said, hoping that open words would prove more effective. “Is that not true?”
Lady Juliet’s hand stilled on the door handle, and for a moment, she did not move. “Of course not,” she whispered into the silence before she turned to face them once more. “Of course, I don’t wish to marry him.” She licked her lips, trying to think of how to explain herself. “But life–at least my life–is not about choices. It is what it is.”
“But it doesn’t have to be,” Violette objected, afraid she would have to watch her sister walk toward her doom. “If you choose differently, I will do everything within my power to help you. You will not be alone in this.”
A soft smile came to Juliet’s gaze as she looked at Violette. “I’m not like you,” she whispered, a touch of awe and longing in her voice. “This is the life I know. I cannot walk away from it. After all, I do want a husband, a family, a home. I want this life. I do.”
“But not with him,” Violette pointed out, casting a wary glance at Lady Silcox, noting that the woman’s features were as tense as her own.
The smile on Juliet’s face darkened. “Not with him, no.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “But I cannot change that now. If I were to break this betrothal, I would be an outcast. No decent gentleman would ask for my hand.” She nodded her head vigorously as though hoping to convince herself. “At least, this way I’ll still get to have a family to care for and a home of my own. Perhaps…over time, I might even come to care for him.”
Violette closed her eyes at the determination in her sister’s voice. Still, she could not help but remember the night she had shared with Oliver, a man she…cared for, a man she felt drawn to. What would it have been like to share her bed with a man like Lord Dowling? An ice-cold shiver ran down her back at the mere thought of it.
“Lady Silcox,” Violette said, turning to her sister’s mother, “would you give us a moment?” Holding the woman’s gaze, Violette prayed that she would understand.
“Certainly,” Lady Silcox said, a tender smile coming to her face as she reached out and grasped one of Violette’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered, nodding to Violette, before she stepped past her daughter and left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Juliet,” Violette addressed her sister, her mind in such a turmoil that any attempt at formality slipped from her tongue.
After a stretch of silence, her sister finally lifted her head and met her gaze. “There is nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
Violette felt her shoulders slump, but willed them to remain where they were, determined not to abandon this fight just yet. “Choices are never easy,” Violette said, stepping toward her sister, “because they always mean that we have something to lose should we fail. Making such a choice is terrifying and takes great courage.”
Her sister’s jaw began to tremble as her tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
Reaching out, Violette settled her hands on her sister’s clenched fists. “But following your heart is never wrong. I know that it urges you to listen, and you’re fighting it this very moment because it wants you to give in, does it not?”
Juliet’s lips thinned as she pressed them together before a sob would escape her throat.
Violette nodded. “My mother married Lord Silcox because of a similar arrangement as yours, and although she loved me and the life we shared, she was never…at ease in that happiness. I admit I never noticed it until the day we left when the smile on her face seemed suddenly brighter, when her eyes suddenly shone with a light I had never seen before.” Holding Juliet’s hands tightly wrapped in her own, Violette leaned down, trying to catch her sister’s gaze. “Still, even as a child, I could see the tension that came to her body whenever my…Lord Silcox was near. Back then, I thought nothing of it, not until I saw her with my father, Captain Duret, a man she loved.” Shaking her head, Violette remembered the joy on her mother’s face. “Once we had left, she was finally the woman she was meant to be, freed from the prison of her marriage. Your mother feels the same, does she not?”
Startled, Juliet looked up, her eyes widening.
“She did not marry Lord Silcox for love, did she?” Violette continued, hoping that her mother’s fate would urge Juliet to choose a different course. “Did she?”
Juliet shook her head. “My father died, and…he was a good man,” she whispered, deep affection in her green eyes as she remembered him, “but he left us with little to survive on.”
“I see,” Violette mumbled, hating the choices some women were forced to make to survive. “It is a harsh world indeed, and I can only urge you to remember that. Do not only think of what you might gain from this marriage, but also of all you’d have to give up.”
A frown tugged on Juliet’s brows. “What do you mean?”
“You would no longer be your own person,” Violette said, “even less than you are now under your stepfather’s care. He does not consider your wishes. Nor will your husband. At least, not Lord Dowling. Not the kind of man he is.” Juliet swallowed as understanding began to dawn on her. “You would belong to him. Everything you are would be his, and you would have no right…to refuse him.”
A heart-breaking sob tore from Juliet’s lips. Still, despite the fear that rested in her green eyes, resignation rested on her features.
Violette swallowed. Where was her sister’s will to fight? Why would she not stand up for herself?
“I can’t,” Juliet said, her voice almost pleading. “I’m not like you. I don’t have that kind of strength. I could never begin again, not like you did.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Violette said. “You need to find your own way. But having the freedom to choose is worth fighting for. Fight for it, Juliet. Yes, it will come with sacrifices, but it will be worth it.”
Gritting her teeth, Juliet shook her head. “No!” She stepped back, pulling her hands from Violette’s. “Please, stop.” Sinking her teeth into her trembling lower lip, Juliet walked past Violette until she came to stand by the window. “You do not know what you’re talking about. You’ve not grown up here. You don’t know how devastating a wrong step in this world can be. No, please leave me alone. I’ve made my choice. It is done.”
“But if you would only–”
“No!” Spinning around, Juliet glared at her, her body trembling with anger, and yet, her eyes shone with fear as well as a fierce determination born out of a life of compliance. “No!” In one fluid motion, she reached for the vase on the small table beside her and then flung it with all her might across the room, a gut-wrenching growl escaping her lips.
The moment the vase hit the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces, all the blood seemed to drain from Juliet’s face, shock evident in her widened eyes.
At her sister’s sudden loss of control, Violette rejoiced as it could only mean that Juliet’s deepest desires fought hard to be heard. Otherwise, there would have been no need for such a powerful reaction. Still, the despair that was written all over Juliet’s face broke Violette’s heart, and she vowed that she would do whatever necessary to see her sister happy…even if it meant circumventing her will and setting free her heart that so clearly wished to be heard.
In the next moment, the door burst open and not only Lady Silcox, but also Oliver and Henri rushed inside. “What happened?” Juliet’s mother exclaimed, her gaze travelling from the broken vase to her daughter’s distraught face. Then she stepped forward and enfolded Juliet in her arms.
“Are you all right?” Oliver asked, pulling Violette aside, his blue eyes holding deep concern as they swept over her. “Are you injured?”
Henri scoffed, “You must be joking. It’ll take a lot more to injure her than a broken vase.” Before Oliver could answer with a retort of his own, Henri turned away, his gaze shifting to Juliet. “So, thi
s is your sister?” he marvelled, and Violette could see a spark of interest in her cousin’s green eyes.
Stepping up to them, Lady Silcox glanced at her daughter, who stood staring out the window, dabbing a handkerchief at her eyes. “I apologise for my daughter’s reaction. I–”
“There is no need,” Violette assured her, taking note of the way Juliet glanced at Henri from under her eyelashes as though she did not dare look at him directly.
Violette smiled as a sudden idea revealed itself.
All her life, she had looked at Henri through the eyes of a cousin, a sister even. He was family, and she loved him dearly no matter how exasperating he could be on occasion. Still, looking at him now, she wondered what Juliet would see.
With his raven-black hair pulled back and tied in the back of his neck, he looked every bit the pirate–granted, a legal pirate! – that he was. The dark stubble on his lower face gave him a fierce look, only accentuated by the dangerous gleam that all too often rested in his dark green eyes. He moved with purpose, graceful, yet domineering. Still, this air of dominance was offset by the roguish smile that often danced over his face, making him almost alluring.
Perhaps all her sister needed to see that her heart’s desires were worth fighting for was a reminder of what life had to offer.
“Lady Silcox, may I speak to you?” Violette asked, casting a telling glance at Juliet.
Her father’s wife nodded in understanding, then stepped outside into the hall.
“You as well,” Violette said to Oliver, urging him out after Lady Silcox, for the moment ignoring the confused frown that came to his face.
A step away from the door, she turned to grab her cousin’s arm. “Henri,” she whispered, holding her cousin’s gaze before allowing hers to dart to Juliet. “Do not allow her to leave.”
His brows drew down, in stark contrast to the mischievous curl that came to his lips. “What goes on in your devilish mind, chère cousine?”
Violette rolled her eyes at him. “Not nearly as much as goes on in yours,” she hissed under her breath. “Talk to her. Make her see that freedom is worth fighting for. That there is more in life than marriage to an old man.” She hesitated, hoping she was not going too far. “Give her a reason to choose differently.”