by Dayna Quince
Violet’s stomach sunk to her toes. “Oh no, please don’t, Your Grace.”
“Violet, may I call you Violet?”
“Of course.” Violet nodded. Her mother stepped aside, and the duchess took her place, placing her hands on Violet’s shoulders.
“It would be nice if we as women could call out men for their atrocious behavior. I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen because it does, and it is no more your fault than it is the sun’s fault for shining brightly. Lord Luther has no excuse for his actions. But there are ways that women fight back. We fight with our principles, our resilient courage, and if need be, a swift knee to the groin. For this occasion, I will use the power of my name to be sure that Lord Luther and only Lord Luther shall suffer for his behavior.”
Violet swallowed. She wanted to believe it. A duchess had more power than most, but history had proven more often than not that fighting the established patriarchy of their society was futile. “What will you do?”
“No one wants to be cut by a duchess, not when one has a daughter that needs to be married,” the duchess said. She turned to Violet’s mother. “May I speak privately with Violet?”
“Certainly, and thank you, Lavinia.” Her mother and Janice moved to the other room.
“Of course.” The duchess smiled and led Violet to sit on the foot of the bed.
Violet sat, her palms damp as she folded her hands together in her lap. This moment felt like a reckoning. Whatever the duchess had to say, it was so sensitive in nature that Violet knew in her gut it must involve Weirick. Someone had seen them, and that someone had informed the duchess of their…relationship, if it could even be called that. But after this morning, it was something. She didn’t know what that something was or what it meant for the future, but there it was. A something she could build on, if she was brave enough and determined enough to break through the steel wall Weirick kept around his heart. The events of this morning were completely unexpected and significantly altered how she would go forward with Roderick’s plan. She couldn’t continue to be wooed by him after his brother had taken such intimacies.
Violet did not have the strength to do it. She couldn’t be that cold, not in the face of Weirick’s pain. Perhaps she was naïve, but when they were together, wrapped around each other like vines on a trellis, she could feel how much he cared for her. In his kiss, his caresses, the way his arms held her as if they could break her but instead formed a cage to protect her. And she could tell he didn’t like it; it frightened him.
It frightened her too.
But this was why she was here, and if their shared physical intimacies were the key to breaking through his resistance, well, she was prepared to do battle, even against a duchess who happened to also be his mother.
Lavinia Eloise Trent was born to be a duchess, but since the moment her first son was born, she put motherhood above all else.
Almost.
Her greatest regret was marrying the Duke of Selbourne, a man so devoid of warmth and affection it was a miracle he didn’t collapse from the inside out. He was empty, hollowed out by his greed and his endless pursuit of perfection. Their London residence was a mausoleum of priceless art, pottery, and statues, anything that could be deemed flawless.
But the day Weirick was born, the duke had shown a tiny glimmer of something Lavinia hoped was a lasting changed. He’d looked upon his son with such pride, smiling with such joy. “He’s perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect.”
And then that sparkle in his eye had turned to calculation, and Lavinia feared her baby would soon be just another artifact for the duke to admire. She’d taken him away, bringing Weirick to Selbourne Castle where he could grow and thrive as he was, a baby, and then a little boy. The duke visited rarely, always beaming with pride at his son, but Lavinia never let her guard down. She knew the duke was waiting for Weirick to grow old enough to take him away. Just before his fourth birthday, the duke had tried to leave with Weirick, to take him to London and begin his ducal education. Lavinia had used all her wiles to delay. She knew Weirick wasn’t ready, no child would be, and the duke’s frustration would only hurt Weirick. She convinced him to delay another two years, meanwhile delivering yet another perfect son.
The duke stayed away for two years, and Weirick grew into a loving, happy child. When the duke arrived, Lavinia was prepared to go with him, to guard her son, and ensure that no matter what the duke did, Weirick would know he was loved.
Despite Lavinia’s worst fears, Weirick remained the strong, happy child he was before, and the duke found little fault. Weirick excelled in almost everything he did. He was as close to perfect as perfect could be.
Looking back over the years, Lavinia cried happy tears, so proud of her son. Despite all the pressure, the relentless studies, and unreachable expectations the duke set for his son, Weirick shouldered them all with a smile and a mischievous wink. He grew into a handsome young man that any mother would be proud to call her own. Weirick was unbreakable.
Until one fateful night.
Lavinia pulled herself together and looked at Violet. “I have seen the way my son looks at you.”
Violet cleared her throat. “Roderick has made his attentions known to me, Your Grace.”
“Please, call me Lavinia.”
“Oh, that is an honor, Your Grace, I don’t think I can.”
“In private, at least. What I am to say to you will bring us far too close for such formalities.”
Violet swallowed.
“First, I want to tell you about my son, Weirick. I know you two have met, he’s told me as much, as has Roderick. Roderick and I have been colluding, you see, and I think you are a very important piece in the puzzle that is Weirick.”
Violet swallowed again.
“Shall I ring for tea?” Lavinia stood and pulled the bell cord. “This may be awhile.”
Violet nodded.
“Good.” Lavinia sat beside Violet on the foot of the bed and took her hand. “I’m going to tell you about that night Weirick was hurt.”
“You mean…the card game?”
“More importantly, after the card game, and something he revealed to me.”
There was a knock and Janice entered. Lavinia ordered them tea and sandwiches, for she didn’t believe for a moment that Violet had eaten this morning. She suspected Violet had been with Weirick, doing things she’d rather not ponder, but most importantly, keeping him here, keeping him grounded in England.
That’s what Lavinia saw when she looked at Violet, an opportunity to keep her son alive and here in England. Roderick had seen it too. For years, Lavinia had been watching Violet, keeping tabs on her whereabouts and who she associated with, even though Weirick was gone. Watching Violet was like having a little piece of him, and Violet didn’t even know it. And that was why Violet was here, not because she was a suitable candidate for Roderick, but because she was Lavinia’s trump card. The moment Violet had arrived, she’d thrown Weirick for a spin, and Lavinia had great hopes for them. She took a deep breath as they were once again alone. Recalling these memories still hurt, a wound that would never heal.
Chapter 17
July 8, 1820
“We must summon the doctor!”
“Don’t bother. The finest doctors in London deemed him unsalvageable.”
Lavinia slapped the duke, his cold, marble features never moved. “Get out.”
“He isn’t worth saving. He’ll be scarred for life, damaged. Women and children will scream when they look upon him.”
“You are disgusting. That is our son, no matter how he looks.”
“He is no son of mine. My son died and that is what I will tell the papers.” He pushed past her.
Lavinia crumpled to the floor, Mrs. Kemp coming to her at once.
“Your Grace, what shall we do?”
“Summon the doctor.” Lavinia wept.
“But…” Mrs. Kemp fretted. “The duke, he said …”
“Fetch the doctor.” Lavinia looked
up, her tears forgotten. “I will not let my son die.” She pushed to her feet and marched back to his bedside. He writhed and groaned on the sweat-soaked sheets, blood and infection smearing everywhere.
“Fresh sheets and lots of water, both hot and cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Kemp hurried away.
Lavinia touched his brow. His skin scorched her palm. “Rest now, Weirick. You’re home now and mother is here to mend you.”
He groaned but he stopped rolling. He didn’t open his eyes, but instinct told her he was aware of her. She bent close and kissed his forehead.
“Violet,” he gasped.
“Violet?” Lavinia repeated. “No Weirick, Mother is here.” Violet must be his mistress, Lavinia thought. She smiled. “You will see her again, my son, as soon as you’re better.”
His eyes opened, glazed with fever, and wildly looking around the room. “Violet Everly.” He tried to sit up and cried out in pain. He fell back against the sheets, utterly still.
“Weirick! Weirick!” Lavinia screamed. She leaned over his face, relief flooding her as the reassuring huff of his breath touched her cheek. She dropped to her knees at the side of the bed and began to pray. She would do anything for the life of her son.
* * *
Lavinia’s hands shook as she related the story to Violet.
“He said my name?”
The poor girl looked as white as the counterpane beneath them. “Yes. I thought nothing of it, at first. I did not know your family, not until after he had gone did I come across your name again. You were so young and your sister had married the Duke of Ablehill. I thought, perhaps it wasn’t you after all. But then the years passed, and I began to attend society functions again. I received an invitation to your come out, but at the time it pained me. Your name reminded me of him and of that night. But then I saw you, and I just knew.”
“Knew what exactly?”
“That you were special. I’ve watched you grow into a lovely young woman, dreading the day I’d see you married to anyone but my son.”
Violet pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry, this is all very strange to me.”
“Is it? You came here to see him because you waited for him all those years, just as I had.”
“I…I was invited for Roderick, at least I thought I was.”
“That is what I wanted Weirick to think, but you were invited here so that he could see you again. So he would change his mind about marriage and leaving.”
“Leaving? Where does he plan to go?” Violet asked.
Lavinia shrugged. “Perhaps Tibet again, I’m not sure. He won’t tell me anything more. But I want him to stay Violet, and you are the key. Tell me the truth, did you come to meet Roderick, or did you come to see Weirick again?” Lavinia knew the truth, she could see it in Violet’s eyes, the longing, the confusion. The girl was in the throes of love. Hope burst inside her. Lavinia stood.
“I will support whatever it is you plan to do to keep him here, Violet, just keep my son from leaving again. Stop him from throwing away his life. He wants to shed himself like snakeskin, but that won’t heal the hurt. His father let him down, I let him down.”
“How? From your story, you were the one to save him. You defied the duke.”
“Yes, but I didn’t stop him from hurting Weirick further. I could have done more to protect him.”
Violet covered her face with her hands. “I don’t understand. If you and Roderick just explain to him how you feel…”
“We have but he refuses, but he can’t refuse you. I have seen the way he looks at you.”
Violet laughed. “Oh but he has, he thinks me shallow and unworthy.”
Lavinia pleaded. “Please, do not give up. His words are weapons. He’s lost his trust, but you can show him.”
“How, may I ask? Because I don’t know. Roderick thinks his jealousy will convince him, but I’m afraid we will only hurt him more. He doesn’t trust me.”
“He doesn’t trust any of us, dear.” Lavinia sighed in exasperation. “But that doesn’t mean we give up. If you love him, you cannot give up.”
Violet wrapped her arms around herself. “I won’t…”
Lavinia hugged her, the poor girl was shaking.
“I’m sorry. This is a bit overwhelming. Does my mother know?”
Lavinia nodded. “She certainly suspects.”
“She knew I still held a part of him with me, and that was why she agreed to this party, but does she know…”
Lavinia understood her hesitation. “If you wish, I will speak to her. We’ve become friends, which I will admit I was hoping for. I have great hopes for the future, Violet, and they all hinge on you.”
Violet let out a shaky laugh, “No, I’d rather I speak with her. I’ve been keeping a lot to myself, and I think it time I be honest with her.”
“I will support you any way I can.” Lavinia hugged her again, wanting to jump up and down with excitement, but she could tell Violet was overwhelmed with all Lavinia told her. She tempered her joy and stepped back. “I’ll leave you now.”
Lavinia walked on unsteady knees to her private apartments, the urge to smile so fierce it hurt to resist it. She waited until she reached her private parlor, and then she grinned like a mad woman, tears slipping down her cheeks. It was too soon to feel such abject relief, but after so much darkness, and so much worry, Lavinia now saw the light.
Violet went immediately to her mother’s door and knocked. Janice answered. Violet entered the room and saw the tea tray on the table. “Was that for the duchess and I?”
“I wasn’t allowed to interrupt.” Janice flushed guiltily.
Violet turned to her mother. “You were listening?”
Her mother abandoned her chair near the fire and rushed to hug Violet. “I’m sorry. I suspected, but I was not sure enough to say something, not when both brothers had taken an interest.”
“How much did you hear?”
“Everything. Such a tragic story about poor Weirick, and all this time, he was longing for you as well.”
“Don’t.” Violet wiggled out of her mother’s hold. “He does not hold me in the regard he once did.”
“Why?”
Violet sat on the foot of the bed. “He won’t trust me, or anyone for that matter, not after what his father did to him. He refuses to marry.”
“He can’t blame all of us for his father’s actions.”
“But he does, especially me. He thinks the worst of me. He thinks I’m not good enough for his brother.”
Her mother scoffed. “He’s a coward then. I’ve seen it before, men afraid of their own tender hearts.”
“Mother,” Violet grumbled. This was the last thing she needed.
“How do you mean to proceed with him?”
Violet fell back against the bed.
“Speaking of which, you admitted to being alone with him. I could demand a marriage right now, tie everything thing up nicely with a bow.”
Violet covered her face, her stomach roiling in protest. “Stop it, please,” she begged.
“What did you two discuss?” her mother asked.
“We discussed his handling of Lord Luther and how it led to Miss Porter’s actions this morning.”
“And then what? That can’t be all. You were absent for quite some time.”
Violet was thankful she was covering her face. Her mother wouldn’t be able to see her blushing. Heat chased across her skin as she recalled the feel of Weirick’s mouth on her breasts, on her neck.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I returned to the castle, changed, and waited for him in his study.”
“Very well, I can tell you don’t wish to talk about anything. You’ve been keeping secrets from all of us for some time now.”
Violet closed her eyes behind her hands. “It isn’t that I don’t want to talk, Mother. I do. But I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to think, and more than anything I don’t know what to do. Help me, Mother. Tell me what
to do.”
Her mother lay down beside her and together they stared at the canopy above the bed in silence. After a moment, her mother sighed.
“I cannot help you with this. From the moment you were born, you always chose your own path. Nothing Nanny or I did could sway you toward what we wanted. You’re a fighter, and when you cannot fight, you’re as immovable as a mountain. Be true to yourself, daughter, that is all the advice I have for you. I won’t get in your way and neither will Lavinia. God have mercy on Weirick if he tries to.”
Violet smiled, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. Her smile widened to a grin, and then she began to laugh. Her mother sat up, chuckling as she looked down at Violet. “What is it that amuses you so?”
Violet sat up and hugged her mother tightly. “You give excellent advice, Mother. I love you.”
Her mother sniffed. “And I love you.”
Chapter 18
That evening, after a vicious dinner of polite conversation, and even worse, a pleasant game of charades in the drawing room, Weirick retired to his chamber, only to find a golden hair nymph lounging on his bed, wearing nothing but a virginal white nightgown.
It was a trap.
Or maybe he was dreaming, and he’d fallen asleep in his study again? Either way, there was no possibility that the Violet he watched his brother drool over, flirt with, and follow like a hungry dog would purposely play both brothers in such an obvious fashion. She had seemed to enjoy Roderick’s attention earlier in the evening, so who was this creature?
“Have you lost your way?”
“I know right where I am.” Her sultry voice carried across the room like smoke and wrapped around his heart, drawing him closer to the bed.
“And where is it you think you are?”
“Right where I want to be.”
Weirick smiled as he slowly unraveled his cravat, watching her carefully, the way a mouse watches a snake. He would not trust the vision before him, no matter how badly he wanted it to be true. He’d heard of things like this, mirages in the desert. He tossed his cravat aside and moved onto his coat and waistcoat, shedding his clothing as if they were his burdens, until there was nothing left but himself, scarred and covered in invisible bruises. He approached the bed slowly, unsure which of them was predator and which was prey. He climbed up onto the bed, prowling over her until she stared up at him, eyes wide, lips soft and open. He kissed her savagely then soothingly, to punish her for encouraging his brother tonight, and then to apologize, because no matter what she did he was afraid he’d always want her, and he was as far from an innocent victim as one could get.