“Perhaps the tiniest amount of wine, my lord.” Violet waited while he poured.
“Please, do sit down,” he said, handing her the glass.
Violet sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire. She pushed her slippers from her feet and tucked her toes under her velvet skirt. She took a small sip of the wine. Perhaps it would calm her nerves.
“I wanted to thank you for all you did this day,” Haverlane said. “It was a very especial surprise and I cannot tell you how profoundly grateful I am for all your hard work. Everyone remarked to me on their departure what a lovely occasion it was.”
“Thank you, my lord, ‘twas nothing but a simple wish to share Jane’s and my gratitude for all the pleasant friends we have met being at Fairhaven. I should have told you what I planned in a letter, but I did not wish to trouble you. With all you must attend in Town, it seemed a trivial matter. However, it did keep Jane from noticing your absence.”
“Has she been faring well? I wake with a heavy heart every morning.” Haverlane took the other chair across from her and swirled the brandy in his glass.
Violet watched the motion absent-mindedly. “She is missing you, but I have reminded her, your place is in Town with His Highness.”
“My place is here with my daughter,” Haverlane growled. “Forgive me. I am lashing out at you when I should be directing my anger at the Prince. I would have found my way long before this had it not been for his caterwauling about the insufferable state of Parliament.”
“My lord, pray forgive me, but your place is with Prince George. If he did not find you so capable, nay, proficient in your ideas, you would not be so easily encumbered. George has always surrounded himself with the best minds. It is his way.” Violet knew that held very little comfort for Haverlane, but she also knew the Prince. George did not condone dim-witted people.
“Well, it is tedious to always be talking and find no one listening.” He scowled.
“My lord, I assure you, no matter what you may think, the Prince is always listening.”
“How can you be so convinced, Lady Violet? You have not seen him since you were a child. Forgive me, but a pulled thorn and dried blood have made you no expert on His Highness.” Haverlane did not know why he continued to harass Violet on the subject, but Prinny’s behaviour of late had gotten his nerves boiling.
“Excuse me, my lord, whilst I retrieve something.” Violet left her chair and stepped out of the library. She returned a few moments later with a letter.
“What is that?” Haverlane asked his curiosity aroused.
“It is a letter from His Highness. Shall I read it to you?” Her voice rang with amusement.
“If you wish.”
Violet began –
“I thank you Lady Violet for your lovely note of condolence. My sister was gravely ill and I feel it is more a blessing she is gone and suffering no longer. I will miss her in my heart always. I will share with you she was my favorite among my siblings. And thank you, yes, my mother is being attended to, have no fear, she will rally again.
I also thank you for your heartwarming words to me about my state. Pray I hope you never find yourself in such a predicament. If anyone should ask you to rule their country, run away fast, I say, and do not trouble yourself. It is a tedious business. I would go myself, but alas, it is my place in this world.
I feel I could no longer bear it, were it not for Haverlane and his keen mind. Aye, we fight like the veriest of nod-cocks, but he is brilliant and his ideas sound. His measure of our country and all that I wish to accomplish have given me hope that I will be able to rule as more than just a decorative object. Haverlane has indeed, made my life bearable as he takes the brunt of Parliament’s misgivings and turns them into triumphs for me. Though he is a Tory, he holds an open mind for my opinions and I have no fear he will be Prime Minister before too long.”
Violet looked up. “Shall I continue, my lord?”
“No. It is not necessary. When did you receive that letter?”
“Tuesday last.”
“It seems Prinny has some friends among the masses,” Haverlane said softly.
“He is not so wholly bad. He is just spoiled and tempestuous. However, I do believe, with the right people surrounding him, Prince George will be one of the most beloved Kings in England, when his time comes to ascend the throne. You would do well to curb your disappointment with his faults. You do not wish to make him your enemy, I think.” Violet gazed at Haverlane and found a scowl across his forehead.
“No, that is true.” He paused and then asked, “Tell me, Lady Violet, as you seem to know so much about our beloved Prinny, what would you suggest I do?”
Violet and Haverlane talked for several hours about the Prince, the Monarchy, Napoleon, the wars, abolitionists, slavery, her father’s absence, Lady Anne, and finally Jane singing. The candles in the holders burned to a low wick. The clock in the front hall chimed midnight.
Violet flung herself from the chair. “Goodness, it is late. I am sorry I have kept you, my lord. You must be exhausted, especially after your journey last night.”
“Surprisingly, I am very well. It has, indeed, been a pleasure conversing with you thus, Lady Violet. It is I who must apologize to you for keeping you from bed. After all you have done to prepare the house party.” Haverlane stood.
Violet slipped on her shoes and placed her empty glass on the sideboard. She turned to face Haverlane.
“My pleasure entirely, my lord,” Violet said.
Haverlane took a step toward her. “Would you care to call me Haverlane? I believe we are more than master and servant, more than mere acquaintances, friends if you will, and as we are in the country, who would tell. I do not always like you to address me as my lord. It makes me sound like a stuffed shirt.”
Violet giggled.
“Pray, you find this amusing.”
“No, my lord, it is just,” she paused, ready to burst into full laughter, “you are a stuffed shirt.” She pointed to his waistcoat.
There he found remnants of Jane’s napkins. She had placed them there earlier in the day as she had eaten her fill while he held her.
He looked at Violet and chuckled at his own sorry state. He whipped the offending napkins out of his vest.
“There. The shirt has been unstuffed.” He took another step closer to her. “I ask you again, would you care to call me Haverlane?”
Violet looked up. “If you wish it.”
“Then shall you say it?”
“Haverlane,” Violet said, in a breathless whisper.
He reached for her hand, brought it up to his chest, and laid it flat against his heart. His other hand gently brushed the side of her cheek.
“Violet, you are….” Haverlane’s lips descended on hers.
Violet could never have prepared for such a wondrous thing. His kiss last night had seemed childlike in comparison to what he was now doing. Her lips burned, her toes tingled, her heart thumped through her chest, she was sure. His mouth claimed hers and she kissed him back without reserve or thought. A magical serenity enveloped her as if she had been waiting for this moment all her life.
Haverlane broke off the kiss and stared at her. Just as she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, he leaned down and kissed her again. Violet wound her hands around his neck. Leaning up, she pressed herself into his chest and heard him moan.
He teased her lips and when she opened her mouth, his tongue sought hers. Violet had never before felt such sensations. A heat started in her belly and fanned a flame she didn’t know she possessed. She kissed Haverlane with a passion she couldn’t control. She knew, in that moment, if scandal met her, she would take the punishment as long as she had the memories of this kiss.
Haverlane brushed the side of her breast with his hand. Violet startled. He broke off the kiss. Storm clouds raged in his eyes when he looked at her.
“Forgive me,” he said.
“There is nothing to forgive, my lord,” Violet whispered.
“You must think me the veriest of libertines.” Haverlane retreated to the fire.
“I think nothing of the sort,” Violet said. “I hold you in very high esteem. A friendship, as you said, has been building between us these last months. I feel this is only a natural progression of that friendship.”
Haverlane placed his hands on the mantle. He did not look at her. “We cannot be friends in that way, Violet,” he said softly.
Her blood ran ice cold.
“I’m afraid I do not understand,” Violet said. Their combined responsibility and affection for Jane, the letters they shared, his taking care of her sister and mother, what did that make them, if not friends in that way.
“Violet, you are but a child and I have taken advantage of that. Forgive me. It will never happen again.” He stood straight from the fire and placed his hands behind his back. The look he gave her shattered her heart.
“I am sorry I displease you, my lord.” Violet knew the tears would come very soon, not from disappointment, but indignation. How dare he call her a child! She would reach her majority in April.
“Violet, you do not displease me,” he said, his tone harsh. “That was not what I meant. You tempt me with your very nearness and it is not seemly. A man of my years should not be cavorting with a young miss. Think of the scandal it would cause.”
“My lord, forgive me, but older men have been cavorting with younger women for quite some time.”
“Yes, but I have never been among them,” he said quietly. His statement hung in the air like icicles between them.
“Then I am sorry, my lord,” Violet said choking on the words. “I have come to care for you a very great deal. However, if you do not wish us to be friends, there is nothing for it. I bid you good-night.”
Violet turned and fled the library. Her tears came in great torrents once she reached her room. Oh, the humiliation! She had thought last night with his kiss he had come to care for her the same way. And tonight to feel such wondrous abandon in his arms. How dare he pass her over as a child! Now that was unseemly. Violet dried her tears and got undressed. Slipping her nightdress over her shoulders, she crawled into bed and sobbed once again. How could she have been so blind to think a man of his station would look on her as anything other than his daughter’s nanny?
*****
What had he done? One minute he was kissing the most delectable creature in the universe, the next he had pushed her away. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? Telling her she was a child! Absurdity! She was as far from being a child as he was a goat shepherd.
Ellis poured himself another brandy and paced in front of the low burning fire.
He knew he was right to push her away. He had to be.
Then why did he feel so miserable?
What had she said – I have come to care for you a very great deal. Did she even know what that meant? He thought not. Ellis knew his life was not an easy one. Anne had known from the start his political ambitions were his only focus. And she had helped him. In every way, she had helped him, not only running the house and holding the parties and dinners and balls that would impel his career forward, but she also took the running of his other estates off his shoulders. He hadn’t looked at the ledgers from his holdings in years. Until her death at least, and even then, his man of affairs and she had the forethought to write up a sound investment plan for each, from which tenants needed new roofs to which field needed to be plowed under and replanted. Anne had been so much more than just his wife. He knew there would never be another like her, who would be so diligent, or conscientious.
Ellis sunk into the chair. But what if he were wrong? What if there was such a woman? What if it was the woman he had just run off?
He slugged the remaining brandy and felt the burn down his throat. He doused the candles, banked the fire, and headed to his room feeling as if he had just lost Anne all over again.
Chapter Nine
In the morning, Violet awoke to the sound of Camelia and Jane laughing. She slipped on her dressing gown and walked to Jane’s room. Jane sat on the bed and Camelia helped her on with her shoes. Violet gave both girls a quick kiss.
“Violet, you are not dressed,” Camelia said. “Do you not wish to break your fast with us?”
“No, dearest. I am not feeling at all well this morning. If you would be so kind as to take Jane down to eat, I shall rest just a bit longer,” Violet said.
“It is nothing serious?” Camelia asked.
“No, it is not. I believe I am overtired from yesterday’s gathering. I should only like to sleep a little longer to relieve the ache in my head.” Violet touched her sister’s cheek. “Please do not worry. I shall be down presently.”
Jane and Camelia descended the staircase, and Violet went back into her room. She did indeed have the headache. However, she knew sleep would elude her. Her mind whirled from Haverlane’s words. We cannot be friends.
Of course, that was not what she wanted from Haverlane. Throughout the course of the last months, she had come to feel something other than friendship for Haverlane. And until he had pressed his lips to hers last night, she had no idea what it was. Now that she knew she was in love with him, she couldn’t bear it.
It had been foolish on her part to think a man of Haverlane’s character and reputation could love her in return. She had no dowry, no proper friends, and no knowledge of the world outside the Palace gates. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was too young.
Then why did he kiss her? Last night had been the fourth time. And, if he had kissed her four times, did not that mean there was some feeling between them after all?
*****
Not able to sleep, Ellis dressed and went down to the kitchen where he asked Mrs. Jeffers to make him coffee. He wandered to the library with his cup, thinking to settle some accounts in the village. His mind would not concentrate. He saw Violet sitting in the chair by the fire, her legs curled underneath her skirts.
What had he done? How could he have been so foolish? His biggest fear – Violet would leave Jane. He did not think she would, but who knew what a girl might do when rebuffed after a kiss. Jane would be devastated. She loved ‘Imma’ with her whole heart. In some way, he must make it right between them, although he did not know how. He sat at his desk and absently picked up his quill. Twirling the feather round in his fingers, an idea sprang forth and he dipped the tip in ink and began to scratch the page. When he finished the missive, he took it and placed it on Violet’s plate in the breakfast room. He couldn’t bear to look in her eyes. Whatever he would find there, he knew, would kill him.
*****
Violet dressed and when she felt sufficiently sure that Haverlane would no longer be at table, she deigned to go down to the breakfast room. Remnants remained on Camelia and Jane’s plates. Haverlane’s place sat cleared. She walked to her chair and noticed the letter. She sat down and opened it.
My Dearest Violet,
Forgive me. I beg you. The words I said to you last night were inexcusable. Of course, we are friends. I hold you in the very highest esteem. Your exemplary consideration and affable affection for my daughter are felt exceedingly. I am very pleased she is doing so well in your care. My happiness in reading your letters is beyond measure and I thank you for them. You cannot know how they delight me. I take much comfort knowing you are looking after Jane.
Your sound advice to me about our good Prince has left my mind easy and agreeable to your suggestions. It is your keen insight to the other side of George that I sometimes forget to see. He is a man before a Monarch, and I must confess it is with great particularity that I am indebted to you for this information.
The solicitude you bestow upon my tenants and the attentiveness you show to the people in the village is a kindness I can never repay. It is something my Anne did and nothing I took individual notice of, dare I say, it is a woman’s consideration. Words cannot express my gratitude for putting together such a lovely Christmas afternoon. Your measure of friendsh
ip undeniably makes me quite ashamed of myself.
However, it is your beauty, which makes me forget that we are, indeed, friends, Lady Violet. I am only a mortal man, after all. I do not deny I find you captivating. However, I have taken advantage of you, and for that, I am sorry. The memories of Anne in this house have quite overwhelmed me. Forgive me for burdening you with the ghost of my late wife. You do not deserve such a fate.
I feel such a terrible imposition when I know what you must think of me, and it is with a heavy heart that I beg you to remain with Jane until spring. As you know, George shall be named Regent and there is much to be done in Parliament. It is my avowed hope I will have Cousin Phyllidia in place by the end of February so that you will be able to accompany your sister for the Season.
Lady Violet, no matter on which decision you arrive, I shall hold you with no ill favour and I will be forever in your debt.
I remain, Your
Haverlane
Violet read the letter twice. No matter how captivating he found her, he still loved Anne. Tears welled in her eyes. To hold such love, even after death must be agony. Her mother still waited these last ten years for her father to come home, though all hope was lost. Love like that would always endure, and Violet now understood it. She could never fault Haverlane for it.
She had to find him. She had to tell him, nay, beg him to forgive her for misconstruing his vulnerability over Anne. What a simpleton she had been. Of course, Anne’s memory had come between them. How could it not? And did she not once remark to herself, she would never compete with another woman’s ghost?
Violet jumped from her chair and ran from the room, determined to find him and make it all right between them. She found Camelia and Jane in the front parlour playing on the pianoforte.
“Have you seen Haverlane?” Violet asked her sister.
“Why, he has left us. Did not you see him? He said he must make haste back to London.” Camelia returned to her playing.
The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II) Page 7