by Dayna Quince
Bernie cocked her head to the side and looked away. “Well, I didn’t spend enough time with them together growing up to see that. Weirick was only home on holidays, and his father demanded he attend him for every ducal duty. It was Roderick that was left to his own devices. I always thought that maybe he resented the attention Weirick received from the duke.”
Violet nodded. “That seems possible.”
“I can’t advise you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I would do in your position.”
“I don’t know what I should do. That is precisely my problem. We quarreled and now we’re avoiding each other. What does that mean?” As Violet said the words, she saw Roderick enter from the front door followed by Weirick. They handed their coats and hats to Greyson and joined the rest of the guests. Both had been at dinner but disappeared before dessert was served.
Turmoil, that’s what Violet would use to describe her feelings. Inside and out, she was in turmoil. She tried to school her features into something passable, but all she wanted to do was escape. Unrequited love was one thing, but being disliked on top of rejection was double the heartache.
She came, she saw, she kissed, and now she contemplated retreat. Violet stood, determined to find her mother and an excuse to retire. Her mother would be disappointed. She would see it as Violet still not trying, but she would never be more disappointed than Violet was at this moment.
“Miss Everly, how fine you look this evening.”
Violet forced herself to smile at Lord Luther. “Thank you, my lord. I hope you have enjoyed the festivities thus far?”
“Oh yes, Her Grace has been a delightful hostess. My daughter, Felicity, has been charmed by the castle grounds, most charmed.”
“That is wonderful, my lord, if you will excuse me, I must speak with my mother.”
“Of course.” He took her hand and patted it. “But before you go, I wanted to secure a dance this evening.”
Everything in Violet stilled. “Oh, I was hoping—”
“This first dance will do. I won’t keep the younger gentlemen from you.” He bent over her hand, his slimy, plump lips smearing across her knuckles. He left as quickly as he appeared, and Violet shared a look of dismay with Bernie. Jeanette joined them, offering glasses of rattafia. “Chester escorted Georgie home—she has a headache—and Luna went with her.”
“Where is Josie?” Bernie looked around.
“Sitting with Miss Porter.” Jeanette waved to Miss Aurand. “If you will excuse me, we’re performing a duet.”
Violet and Bernie watched Lord Luther rejoin his family. He lingered over Josie’s hand, just as he’d done Violet’s.
“Unscrupulous,” Bernie muttered.
“I was hoping to retire. I have no wish to dance with him, or anyone for that matter.”
“Not anyone?” Bernie prodded.
“He thinks me nothing more than a title hunter. Why would he dance with me?” Violet swallowed, the pressure behind her eyes building with the threat of tears.
Bernie took her hand and squeezed it, leaning close. “You said you loved him. If that is true, you cannot give up. I won’t let you.”
“But he doesn’t love me—or like me—for that matter. How can I continue?”
“Let me tell you something about perseverance and hope.” Bernie scooted closer. “My father is the most foolish man I know.”
“That isn’t nice to say about your own father,” Violet chided. Though to be honest, her own father had been more than reckless with their family finances, resulting in their complete collapse upon his death. “But do go on.”
“As my mother would say, never give a man’s stupidity the benefit of the doubt. It will only cause you trouble. There is wisdom in those words. My father was determined to have a son, no matter the cost. As soon as my mother recovered from one birth, it was on to the next. This went on for nine consecutive children, all female—obviously, until my mother found herself no longer able to conceive.”
“I’m sorry.” Violet didn’t know what else to say.
“Oh no, it was a blessing. We weren’t well off to begin with. Our small plot of land is sandwiched between a duke and marquis. Our main source of income is sheep, but there is not room for enough sheep to turn a greater profit. What is left is entailed, and if my father dies, my cousin Edward will inherit. Who will take in ten women? No one, I tell you.”
Violet gasped. “I’m sorry, it is very similar to what my family went through.”
“Then you understand.” Bernie nodded. “When Annette turned ten and six, my father searched locally for a husband, but there were none to be found, so then he went farther and farther. He is rarely home now and forever off searching for husbands for all of us.”
Flummoxed, Violet could only nod.
“He still tries to beget an heir, but thankfully my mother remains barren.”
“I can honestly say I’ve never heard those words spoken before now.”
“Chester tries to help. With my father always gone, the sheep and two tenant farmers have struggled. Without Chester, I don’t know where we would be.”
“You should marry Chester,” Violet blurted. “You know him, I’m sure if we go to him, he will choose you for the sake of your family.”
* * *
“Chester would never marry me.” Bernie laughed. “Could you imagine our wedding night? He’d scold me in bed. I don’t know what he’d say because I know nothing about—”
Chester appeared at Bernie’s side, and she locked her lips together, her cheeks flushing bright pink.
“I thought I heard my name.” He looked between them.
Violet coughed. “Uh, we thought you left to escort Georgie home?”
“I did.”
“That was quick.”
“You live quite close and the carriage was ready when we decided to leave.” His eyes focused on Bernie. “Are you feeling unwell?” He brought his hand up, touching the back of his hand to her forehead.
Bernie’s eyes widened and she batted his hand away and turned to Violet. “Do you see what I mean? That is why that would never work.”
Violet giggled.
“I beg your pardon? What in God’s name are you talking about?” Chester snapped at Bernie.
“’Tis not your concern, Chester, not ever. Go play nursemaid to someone else.”
Chester scowled at Bernie and left them.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Violet scolded. “He was only concerned for you.”
“He needn’t be.” Bernie fumed. “I and my sisters are none of his concern. He only wants to control me and show me he has power over me.”
“Bernie, I think he cares for you.”
“I don’t need a brother, not a brother that isn’t blood related. An actual brother would be quite helpful.” Bernie crossed her arms and twitched her nose. Violet noticed she did that whenever she was annoyed.
“We won’t speak any more of it. Let’s make our excuses and retire. Neither of us is in any mood to dance or socialize.”
Bernie nodded in agreement. Together, they took two steps and the music began. Jeanette and Miss Aurand sang a lovely ballad at the pianoforte. Directly in front of them, across the width of the great hall, Violet found Weirick staring back at her. Her heart stuttered and resumed at a frantic pace. Roderick was beside him and immediately crossed the distance to Violet. Weirick followed and soon both gentlemen stood before her.
This is what misery is, Violet thought. At least I have company.
“We’re retiring,” Bernie said without preamble.
“But I’ve come to beg a dance from Miss Everly,” Roderick said.
“I…I have promised the first dance to Lord Luther,” Violet mumbled.
“Good god, why?” Roderick laughed.
“I wasn’t given a choice, really.”
All the while Weirick stood quiet.
“I guess I won’t be dancing,” Bernie said.
Weirick straightened. “I’d be delighted if
you would dance with me, Miss Marsden.”
Bernie narrowed her eyes. “Fine, but only because I know how much it pains you to ask.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I suddenly remembered why I dislike you.”
“You dislike everyone,” Bernie returned, her eyes cutting to Violet.
Weirick didn’t respond to the slight but offered his arm to Bernie.
“I suppose I must entertain myself elsewhere, Lord Luther is coming for you.”
Violet resisted the urge to shudder. “The next dance is yours.”
Roderick bowed over her hand. “Excellent.”
“We need to talk,” she added. She could see Lord Luther bearing down on them.
He raised a brow as he straightened. “Do we?”
“I’ve reconsidered your offer.”
He nodded imperceptibly. “I look forward to our dance, Miss Everly.”
Roderick slipped away as Lord Luther appeared. Violet was led to the dance floor, and she began to dance the cotillion half-heartedly with Lord Luther. She knew at some point, she would come face to face with Weirick, and she was dreading the moment. There were only four couples dancing, and Violet could see him and Bernie at the end of the line in her periphery. Normally Violet loved dancing, but right now, she hoped Lord Luther would step on her foot and cause her significant injury. Perhaps she could turn her ankle or faint? She mulled over the idea as she swooped around Mr. Cage and immediately caught Weirick’s eye. Violet almost laughed. He looked as if he shared her wish for a swift end to this nightmare as much as she did. It was a small comfort. Was he as miserable as she? And why? She came back to Lord Luther and he leered at her. These bouncy group dances used to be fun, until her bosom grew into a nuisance. They linked hands and did a turn then turned again, and just as he was supposed to turn away, he swept his hand across her breasts and pinched her.
Violet almost cried out. It was a hard pinch and he happened to catch her nipple. She bit the inside of her lip, tears pricking her eyes, and she struggled to keep going. She caught his eye as he faced her again and glared with enough forced he should have combusted into pink mist on the spot. But he didn’t, his nose and cheeks flushed with what she hoped was guilt.
A few moments later, the dance ended and Violet didn’t utter a word to him as he thanked her for the dance and slithered away. Bernie came to her side immediately, and worse, Weirick followed her.
“I saw,” Bernie hissed in Violet’s ear.
“I’d like to run him through.” Violet eyed a shield and sword that hung on the wall. Oh, how she wished these were different times, and she could defend her own honor with the sharp point of her blade. Her hands were shaking violently. She folded her arms, tucking her hands into her sides.
She felt nauseous and the room spun.
“You are quite pale, Miss Everly. Are you feeling well?”
“I’m feeling violent,” Violet answered. Her eyes cut to his.
“That—that toad. You should lay him flat, Weirick. No one would question it.”
He looked between them in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“Lord Luther—”
“No,” Violet cut in, “he doesn’t need to intervene. I will deal with it on my own.”
Bernie turned to Violet in shock. “Violet, he grabbed you in plain sight. It cannot stand.”
Violet blanched. Weirick straightened, his face transforming before her eyes into a terrifying mask of something, murder maybe, definitely mayhem.
“It’s nothing.” She stepped closer to him. “It will only embarrass me further.”
“He touched you inappropriately.”
“He pinched her bosom. I saw it, doubtless everyone did.”
“Bernie!” Violet hissed.
“Something must be done.”
“It will only make it worse. Who will be blamed? Certainly not that fetid snake.”
“I will speak to him privately,” Weirick said. He said it in such a tone that Violet doubted he meant to merely speak. She imagined Weirick pounding on Lord Luther the way he’d fought his opponent that first night, and suddenly she felt much better. Her heart raced, and heat pooled low in her belly. She mentally shook herself. No, any acknowledgement of Lord Luther’s behavior would backfire. That was just the way the world was. Men were never blamed for their lack of control, no matter how disgusting their behavior.
“I beg you, let it go,” Violet said.
“How can you?” Bernie pleaded to Violet.
“There is no other way,” Violet answered. “I’ve been through this many times, unfortunately.”
Bernie shook her head, turning sad eyes to Weirick.
He folded his arms. “This is my house, and I will not stand for such behavior. I will be speaking with him, and you may trust that there will be no consequences for you, Miss Everly.”
Violet wished that were true. “I wish you would reconsider, Your Grace.”
“I won’t. Please excuse me.”
Violet watched him go until her eyes blurred, and she felt someone shaking her arm.
“Violet.” Bernie snapped her fingers in Violet’s face.
Violet blinked. “I must retire. I cannot go through with this.” Violet spun away, but there before her was yet another obstacle.
Chapter 13
Weirick walked in slow, deliberate steps toward his prey. Lord Luther was sitting beside his wife, badgering Miss Josette. She was obviously uncomfortable, as were his wife and daughter who sat next to him in helpless embarrassment. No, Weirick thought. Not helpless, enabling. They enabled his predatory behavior. The four paused and stood as he approached.
They exchanged greetings, and then Weirick pinned Lord Luther with his gaze. “A word, my lord.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.” Lord Luther shuffled to Weirick’s side, his cheeks flushed, and his brow glistening with sweat.
“It is a pleasant evening, step outside with me and have a cigar.”
Lord Luther nodded eagerly. The two men stepped just outside the french door, and Weirick withdrew two cigars from his coat. Neither spoke as they trimmed the tips and lit their cigars, puffing out clouds of smoke into the chilled air.
“Lovely party, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, you do seem to be enjoying yourself, Luther.
“Oh yes, the scenery is splendid.” Luther nodded emphatically, his eyes glazed in the weak torchlight.
“And your daughter?”
“Very delighted to be attending, Your Grace.”
“Excellent.” Weirick drew on his cigar, enjoying the scent of smoke and panic in the air.
“The young ladies seem to be getting along well, no cat fights to speak of.”
“My Felicity is above such behavior, I assure you, Your Grace. Her ample charms speak for themselves.”
Weirick jumped on the opportunity Luther presented. “Ample charms, you say? Not so ample as Miss Everly’s, which you have taken upon yourself to investigate, wouldn’t you say?”
Luther pulled on his neck cloth; he grinned and nodded as he took a pull from his cigar. He blew the smoke into the air. “Ample is the perfect word for Miss Everly, if you know what I mean, Your Grace.” He chuckled.
Weirick smiled, though it felt like a snarl. Luther must have taken it as such, because he stopped laughing and coughed.
“It’s to be expected from the likes of Miss Everly. She isn’t fit company for young women like my Felicity.”
“So it is Miss Everly’s fault that you’re a fat-fingered molester of young women?” Weirick drew on his cigar and blew the smoke in Luther’s face.
Luther coughed and waved it away. “She would not look as she does if it were not to invite a man to debase himself.”
Weirick rolled his eyes so forcefully he thought he might see inside the back of his skull. He threw his cigar down and ground it into the gravel, holding Luther’s gaze. He snatched the portly disgrace by his cravat and twisted until the man fought for air.
“
Touch a woman—any woman—without explicit, vocal, written, signed and witnessed consent again, and I shall enjoy hanging you from your ankles above a pig pen and gutting you from jewel sack to chin. Do you understand me?”
Luther nodded and wheezed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Weirick wasn’t done yet. He let go of Luther’s neck cloth and he stumbled back. As soon as he stood, Weirick planted his fist in Luther’s ample gut. The man bowled over, dropping to his knees, and promptly vomited.
Weirick straightened his coat and went back inside. A violent rage still surged through him. The thought of that man accosting anyone ignited his anger, but thinking of Luther’s hands on Violet made Weirick bloodthirsty. He wanted to carve the man up and serve him to his own dogs. Short of committing murder, Weirick would see that Luther never looked at Violet again, or any of the women here. The man would piss himself before setting another foot wrong, or Weirick would ruin him.
Weirick stood in the great hall, waiting for his blood to cool. He looked for Violet, knowing she was still upset and likely angry at him for defending her. How could he not? He would defend any guest in his house abused in such a manner. It was his duty. She was under his protection while under his roof, and his chaotic emotions where she was concerned would not alter that.
He searched for her, wanting to reassure himself and her that the matter was handled. He saw a flash of gold in the group of dancers. He focused on the swirling dancers, watching them closely.
Violet linked hands with her partner and she smiled. Weirick’s hot blood turned to ice.
She was dancing with Roderick, and laughing as though she hadn’t been ghost white and shaking with fury only moments ago. Weirick’s hands fisted at his side. He watched them a moment more. His brother was smiling, winking playfully at Violet. Wooing her, seducing her. Weirick marched right past the happy dancers before he indulged his bloodthirst. He went straight to his study to get drunk, and prepare to verbally—maybe even physically—castrate his brother when they next spoke.
Violet laughed again as Roderick spun her around and the dance ended. He escorted her to a set of chairs and fetched her some refreshment. Violet could almost believe he truly intended to woo her, for his own purposes, but that simply wasn’t true. He was a marvelous actor.