“I heard your speech to the Prince was not well received, my lord,” Violet said, breaking the silence.
Ellis looked up. How would she know that?
“My mother writes regularly,” Violet said in response to his silent question. “I have also heard he was put out by your insolence.” Her tone held an amusing note.
“He was, was he?” All was not well in the House of Hanover. George’s summons to Brighton last month had left Ellis weary and frustrated.
Ellis sat back, and listened to Violet speak. She seemed very well acquainted with the inner workings of Parliament, his latest oration, and the tirade from George. Her own opinions were evident as she admonished him, lightly, and with a smile. She did not fault him for taking the opposing view. However, she asked if he could not see how the people who most needed help were the ones most encumbered.
She was not such a shallow girl as he once thought. Her first letter had led him to believe she was a ten-and-seven-year-old lass, with nothing on her mind except ribbons and frippery. Now, here she sat, berating him on his service to the Crown and her country.
Jane suddenly demanded all of his attention and Lady Violet, with a slight curtsy, excused herself. Ellis thought the room lost some of its light after she departed.
*****
Leaving father and daughter alone, Violet took herself to her room and penned several letters to her family. At two o’clock, she claimed Jane for her nap and she and the little girl went up to the nursery.
Leaving the sleeping Jane with Mary sitting in the chair reading a ha’penny novel, Violet slipped down to the kitchen. The picnic lunch forgotten when Haverlane arrived, Violet was quite intent on at least one piece of pie. Rounding the corner of the short hall, she discovered Haverlane in the kitchen.
“My lord,” she squeaked. She found herself at a loss without Jane at her side.
“Lady Violet.” He looked around as if searching for someone else.
She stepped across the room. “May I attend you, my lord? You seem rather lost.”
“I would like another piece of Mrs. Jeffers’ cherry pie, and she is nowhere to be found. I have searched high and low, in every possible place I could think it to be and I cannot find it.”
The grin he gave her set her heart to hammering inside her chest. His mock desperation compelled her to assist in the search. She found the pie in the small cupboard under the stairs.
Placing it on the table, she noticed two places set with the second best china, sterling, and glass from the cupboard in the pantry.
“My lord,” Violet gasped. “What an extraordinary table. Have you done this by yourself?”
“This is my home. I should hope I would know how to set my own table.” Haverlane pulled at the bottom of his waistcoat.
“Yes, of course, my lord,” Violet said. She nodded to the chair. “Do be seated, please. I beg you do not wait attendance on me. When one is short it is much easier to carve the pie while standing.”
Haverlane sank onto the wood plank seat.
Violet sliced the pie and gave the bigger piece to Haverlane. He grinned again when she placed the pitcher of milk before him. He ate with gusto and nodded eagerly when Violet offered him another piece.
“When shall you depart, my lord?” Violet asked. She picked at the pieces of pie remaining on her plate. Jane would be beside herself. Violet thought she might miss him a little as well. Their talk that afternoon in the library had been pleasant, as he was learned, although not patronizing, and led her to believe he was not as formidable as she once thought.
“Unfortunately, tomorrow I’m afraid. My cousin Robert, the Duke of Cantin, and I must meet with Prinny again. Since his sister’s illness, His Highness has been in a terrible state.” He pushed his plate away.
“That is very kind of you. Are you friends with Prince George then, my lord?” Violet asked.
“Friends? I do not know if one can be friends with such a man. However, Robert, my brother William, Richard Gaines, George Brummell, Lord Alvanlay, Henry Pierrepoint, and I have been with Prinny longer than most. I daresay one might call such a long standing acquaintance a friendship.”
Violet quirked her lip.
“Say you not?” Haverlane asked. “What constitutes friendship for you then, Lady Violet?”
“Well, certainly a similar likeness of being,” Violet began. “I dearly love to read and do not think I could be friends with a person who does not, as well as an admiration for art and music. There is also, I think, an aspect of a person’s countenance that I find clearly lends itself to friendship. I look forward to a ready smile when such friends are met.” Violet realized the horror of her mistake as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth.
“So my countenance does me an injustice?” Haverlane asked.
“I beg your pardon, my lord. I did not mean to cast aspersions on your appearance. Forgive me.” Violet stood from her seat, ready to flee.
“No. Please, do sit down.” Haverlane half-rose and nodded to her chair. “I am sorry my face does not please you,” he said.
Violet retrieved her seat. “No, my lord, that is not the case at all. You are very handsome.” Violet knew she blushed scarlet. “It is just….” Did she dare say it?
“It is just….” Haverlane repeated.
“It is just, well, it is so very sad you loved your wife and now she is gone. Anyone can see the grief that still resonates from you.”
“So, you pity me, is that it?”
“No, my lord, I do not pity you. I pity your situation. The loss of a beloved is, to me, the greatest loss one can endure. I know it is quite impossible to find another so worthy as Lady Haverlane, but surely, there is another woman in this world whom you would care for and have her care for you and Jane.” Violet hoped he would find one. At least for Jane’s sake.
“Yes,” Haverlane said. “Jane. I will admit a wife is not something I truly wish. It is my mother’s desire. However, I must always think what is best for Jane. I believe if I were to find a woman to love Jane easily, then that would be enough.” Haverlane played with his fork.
“Surely, my lord, you do not wish to live without love?” Violet was aghast. He could not be serious.
“My dear Lady Violet, ton marriages are not based on love. What I had with Lady Haverlane was a once in a lifetime chance. I doubt I will ever be so lucky again. No, my only wish is for Jane to be happy with my choice for her mother.” Haverlane pushed the plate away and stood.
“Thank you for the pie, Lady Violet. Now, I must attend to business in the village. I trust I will see you and Jane at dinner?”
“Yes, my lord,” Violet said rising. “We own to country hours in the breakfast room.”
He nodded to her and left.
Violet picked up the pie and returned it to the cupboard. Marriage not based on love? A frightful thing to contemplate. If it were so in the ton, then she would certainly never marry into it. No, she would rather remain a spinster nanny if she could not find love in matrimony.
*****
That night after dinner, Jane, Haverlane, Mrs. Jeffers, and Violet settled in the library. Haverlane read to his daughter while Violet finished her mending. Mrs. Jeffers knitted in the corner. The clock struck eight and brought Violet to her feet.
“I’m afraid, my dear Jane, it is time for bed.”
Jane wanted no part of it. “Papa, me, stay with Papa. No, Imma. Me stay here.”
“Now, Jane,” Haverlane said. “Is it like you to be disagreeable with Lady Violet? I think not. Come, I shall put you to bed. How would you like that?” He held his daughter as he stood. “Say your goodnights to Lady Violet.”
Haverlane did not know that Violet kissed his daughter before bed every night.
Jane leaned out of his arms. Violet stepped forward to catch the girl, but Haverlane did not let go. Violet and he ended up with their arms around the little girl and each other.
Jane kissed her cheek. Violet returned the kiss. “Now off you g
o, lovely. Sweet dreams.” Violet tried to step back, but Jane held fast to Violet’s dress.
“Imma, kiss Papa g’night,” Jane said.
Violet felt the heat of her face scalding the tips of her ears. “I am afraid that is not permitted, dearest. Here,” Violet kissed Jane’s cheek again. “You may give that kiss to Papa for me.”
Jane immediately kissed her father. “Papa, kiss from Imma.”
“Yes, Jane, that was very thoughtful of Lady Violet, was it not?” He made to take her away, but she grabbed onto Violet’s dress again. “Papa, kiss Imma g’night.”
“We have gone round this Jane. It is not permitted.” Haverlane kissed his daughter’s cheek. “There now, you may give that kiss to Lady Violet for me.” He smiled sheepishly at Violet.
“No, Papa, kiss Imma g’night. Permin, yes.” Jane placed her hands on the sides of Haverlane’s cheeks and pushed his lips together. “Papa, permin kiss to Imma.”
Haverlane tilted his head and laughed. “It seems I have gained the permission needed, Lady Violet. Shall we attend it so our little princess will away to bed?”
Violet nodded, blushing scarlet and turned to Haverlane. He pecked her on the cheek.
Violet stepped back. Jane laughed and clapped her hands. “Papa, kiss Imma ‘gain”
“No dearest, one kiss per night permitted. Come now, we must away to your bed, otherwise you shall look the veriest crone in the morn.” He winked at Violet and left the room with Jane hanging over his back blowing kisses.
Violet sank down to the settee. Mrs. Jeffers’ head hung to her chest. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen the kiss, a child’s request, but a kiss none-the-less. Her very first and Violet’s stomach fluttered. She tried to convince herself that it meant nothing. Yet, it meant the world. Hopefully, Haverlane would never realize it.
Chapter Six
Before Haverlane’s sudden arrival, Violet had promised Jane they would go down to the stream and float Jane’s boat one more time before the weather turned. The September morning dawned sunny and warm, and Violet hoped Haverlane would join them for the adventure, however, Grennan told her the master had gone to speak with his tenants. Violet left word with Mrs. Jeffers where she and Jane would be if Haverlane wished to join them.
*****
As Ellis crossed the meadow, he heard their laughter long before he ascertained their direction. He followed the sound and finally glimpsed the colorful quilt through the large cane reeds. As he drew nearer, he saw Jane sat on the blanket underneath the huge ash and Violet, standing on the riverbank, holding onto the string attached to a small wooden boat. Jane clapped and laughed and Ellis was glad his daughter was having so much fun.
However, Jane’s laughter changed and he heard a worried, “Oh dear” from Violet, then, a large splash, another “Oh dear” and Jane laughing again. He rushed to investigate, pushed the reeds apart, and found Violet struggling up the bank in a soaking wet dress. She reached the verge and stood.
Ellis sucked in his breath. The faded calico clung to her shapely form and every curve perfectly outlined. The sopping cotton left nothing to the imagination.
Violet noticed him. “My lord, it is good of you to join us.” Water ran in rivulets down her smiling face.
“Are you…are you all right?” he asked. Her obvious lack of guile over the situation added to his discomfort.
“I am well.” She giggled. “I have only fallen in the water. I am wet, but unharmed.” She paused. “Forgive me, my lord, are you ill? You look a bit dashed.”
“I…I…no, I am well, thank you. Perhaps I am hungry. I shall leave you and find Mrs. Jeffers.” He turned to go and then turned back. “Do you require assistance?”
Ellis stood near the reeds ready to flee. He watched as she picked up the picnic blanket and wrapped it around her sodden form. The breath left his body and he stood motionless.
“No, my lord. I do not require assistance. Pray, do not wait for us. Please go and find Mrs. Jeffers. Jane and I will meet you in the library when I am changed.” Violet took Jane’s hand, the boat trailing behind them on the string.
Ellis marched across the fields in an effort to suffuse his surprising ardor. He had admitted to himself that he was growing fonder of the girl, her influence on Jane the only reason. However, seeing her practically naked, rising from the water like a siren sprung forth to fulfill his unexpected desire, overwhelmed him in ways he did not wish to contemplate. It was unseemly. She was barely out of the schoolroom. However, that did not suppress his yearning; it only made the matter worse. Not only was she beautiful, she was a virgin. Someone else would take the gift she now owned. For the briefest of moments, he wanted her to bestow the gift on him.
He stomped into the house and almost shouted for Manning before realizing his butler wasn’t there. He growled at the little maid who appeared at his bellow.
“Tell Mrs. Jeffers I would like a headache remedy.” He didn’t have a headache, but he didn’t know what else to take. He wanted a drink, but that would likely turn into two, and becoming foxed would only hinder his progress on the road when he departed.
When Jane and Violet entered the library half an hour later, Ellis had calmed his longing. He also knew he dared not stay at Fairhaven one more second. No matter what he wanted, he could not have it, and he did not wish to be tempted.
“My lord, I hope you have recovered,” Violet said upon seeing him.
“Yes. I am well. Thank you,” he said. He did not look at her. “Jane, come here,” he commanded. The little girl ran to her father. He scooped her up and settled her on his lap.
“Dearest, I must away again.”
“Away?” Jane asked. She played with his cravat.
“Yes. I must return to London.” He hoped Jane did not hear the catch in his voice
“No, Papa stay with Imma and Jane,” the little girl said with a pout.
“I’m afraid that is not possible. Papa must go back to London and take care of the Prince.”
“No. Papa stay, take care of Jane and Imma.” Jane began scrunching her eyes.
“Oh, darling, if that I could.” He buried his face in her hair.
Violet moved forward toward his chair. Kneeling, she spoke to Jane.
“Dearest, Papa must go back. The Prince does not have anyone to take care of him. Not the way you do. You have me, and Mrs. Jeffers, Mary, and Grennan. The poor Prince does not have anyone to make him biscuits, kiss his hurts, or help him with the flowers. Papa needs to go back to London.”
“Pince no has biscuits?” Jane asked. Her tear-filled eyes sought Violet.
“No dearest,” Violet crooned, “the Prince has no one to make him biscuits. Papa must go back to London. Surely, you see that. But he will return, will you not, my lord?”
“At the earliest convenience. You have my word, Jane.” He looked down at his daughter and felt tears creeping into his own eyes. He abruptly stood with Jane and walked to the front of the Hall.
Grennan met them in the courtyard holding Haverlane’s horse.
“Oh, Papa,” Jane wailed.
He held her close, kissed her cheek. When he started to hand her over to Violet, the child broke free and ran to Grennan. She grabbed his hand as if to pull the reins away. Draco stomped his huge hooves.
“Jane!” Ellis ran to his daughter and pulled her from beneath the monstrous beast. “Stop this at once. Now please, you must return to Lady Violet and I must away to London.”
He shushed her tears and handed the sobbing child to Violet.
“Kiss more?” Jane cried.
“One more kiss, and then I really must depart,” he said offhandedly to Violet.
He kissed his daughter, a loud smacking sound.
“Kiss Imma,” Jane said, smiling through her tears.
Ellis did not know what to make of the expression in Violet’s eyes. He leaned over and made to give Violet a hasty kiss on the cheek, however, Jane moved to his left and his lips landed on Violet’s. The warmth he felt from he
r lips pressing on his made him linger far longer than he ought. It was the sweetest kiss he had ever had. He broke it off and stepped back. Violet gazed up at him with the face of an angel.
He strode to Draco, mounted, blew one last kiss to Jane, and thundered down the drive. The sooner he was away, the better.
Chapter Seven
Ellis understood the move Prinny wanted to make toward bi-partisanship in the House of Lords was impossible, but what His Royal Highness wanted, he usually acquired. Undoubtedly, George’s ascension to the Regency would come sooner than expected. His father, the King was foundering with another bout of madness, and his doctors did not hold any hope he would recover this time.
Prinny had always been a forward thinking man, and it showed with his choices in art, music, architecture, even fashion. Yet, politics were politics and running his father’s government was going to take a much stronger hand than he had. Luckily, the Prince knew it, which was why he surrounded himself with progressively opinioned men. Where George lacked, he and his cousin, Robert, excelled. They might be able to rally some of the other moderates in the House to Georges’s way of thinking. It was a gamble, but the least they could do to try to support their monarch.
Lost in thought, Ellis startled as Manning appeared in front of his desk. “What is it, Manning?” He leaned back in his chair, contemplated a brandy, and thought better of it.
“The Duke of Cantin has called repeatedly, my lord. He wishes to know when you are arrived. Shall I send a note round?”
“I have only been gone for two days together. Surely, Prince George has not thrown another fit of temper?” Haverlane sighed and rubbed his temples.
“It seems the Prince is in a state, my lord. His Grace could not convey strongly enough his desire to see you upon your return. He also mentioned Brighton.” Manning ran his gloved finger across the corner of the desk. It held a fine layer of dust.
“Very well, send one of the footmen to find Robert and tell him I’ve arrived. Have Cook make me something to eat as well. I did not stop for dinner.”
The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II) Page 4