The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II)

by Anne Gallagher

  Violet put her spoon down. “My lord, I am perfectly capable of taking care of Jane.”

  “Dearest,” Penny said, reaching her hand across the table. “You mistake Haverlane’s meaning. He is only concerned for your health. He knows you are quite proficient in taking care of Jane and would have no other. However, he also knows that caring for a child may set your health back and that would never do. I long to have you in Town for the Season and would not wish you to be delayed for one moment longer than is necessary.”

  Violet looked from Penny to Haverlane. “Forgive me, my lord. It seems my nerves are still a bit raw from the illness.”

  “And therefore, all the better to secure Mary,” Haverlane said.

  Thankfully, Penny kept up the conversation with Haverlane while Violet tried to keep her tears in check. It seemed the lingering effects of the illness overwhelmed her to a state of near hysteria. Perhaps ‘twas the notion of leaving the comfort of Fairhaven. Violet picked at the plates the footmen brought to the table. The food was delicious, like none Mrs. Jeffers had ever prepared, but her appetite lagged. She knew Haverlane left on the morrow and Lady Penny soon thereafter. In a few short weeks, she would find herself thrust into the whirl of Society and she would lose Haverlane and Jane forever.

  When Haverlane asked if the ladies would care to retire to the library after dinner, Violet excused herself, saying she was fatigued. He said nothing, but the contours of his face sharpened. Penny walked her upstairs and bid her goodnight in front of her bedchamber. Sarah helped her off with the beautiful gown and when she crawled into bed, Violet felt as if she were a piece of laundry run across the scrub-board. Tears would not come, but the heaviness in Violet’s heart weighed on her. When she finally succumbed to sleep, inescapable nightmares left her drenched in sweat.

  *****

  “I thought she would be pleased I had secured Mary and the others,” Ellis said. He paced the library, a glass of brandy in his hand.

  Penny sat in the chair watching him. “I’m sure she is, dearest, however, she is humiliated by her mother’s behaviour. Berating you on the number of servants in your house.” Penny snorted. “The Countess Flowers leaves much to be desired in my opinion. I wonder if she truly knows her place in Society or if her situation with the Queen makes her suppose she is above her station.”

  “I am sure it is the latter. Her last words to me were insulting and deplorable and aimed at her daughter. Would you believe she had the audacity to say, now that Violet has come down to size she is hoping for a favorable match.”

  Penny sucked in a breath. “Pray, she did not.”

  “She did.”

  “Poor Violet. The shame of having such a mother,” Penny said.

  “And mine is no better, I fear.” Ellis placed his glass on the mantle and ran his hand through his hair. “I have heard through Andrew Perry she was offensive to Violet as well in her care of Jane. I should like to have them both stripped of their titles and made to work in the coal mines.”

  Penny smiled. “It is a pleasing thought, but I’m afraid it is not possible.”

  Ellis sighed. “No, it is not, unfortunately.”

  They sat in companionable silence for some time before Penny smiled and then giggled.

  “What is it that finds you so amused?” Ellis asked his sister-in-law.

  “Well, as you know, I have not had the opportunity to give a ball. I think upon my return to Town I shall make preparations to hold one. I’m sure I can secure my mother and aunt to help. It shall be for Violet, for her come-out. I shall introduce her to only the best and finest of the ten thousand, and she will secure herself a very nice place in Society. That will teach her mother to insult my friend.”

  “Yes, Penny, I believe it would,” Ellis said. “The Countess Flowers has no way of showing off her daughter, other than to be beholden to the witches of Almack’s. And we both know no one of consequence attends, which is why Lilly has found only Welbey.” It would serve the Countess Flowers right to be humiliated in turn. “Yes, Penny, that is a splendid idea. You will allow me to be of assistance in any way that I can.”

  “Oh, yes, dearest. Your job will be to secure the newly appointed Regent to attend. We all know he would not attend unless it is in his interest. And I wish everyone to know he has attended for Violet’s sake.”

  Ellis looked at his sister-in-law and smiled a rare smile of self-indulgence. “Underneath your sweetness, lies a wicked, wicked girl.”

  Penny laughed. “Pray, do not tell my husband.”

  “Oh no, my dear. Your secret is very safe with me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Violet and Jane stood with Mrs. Jeffers and Flint and waved the Duchess of Caymore’s carriage down the drive. Haverlane had left the week before. Violet would not see either of them again until she returned to Town. Penny had much preparation to do for her upcoming ball, and although the two girls had made lists, Penny said she would need her mother’s help. As the carriage disappeared from sight, the four made their way into the house.

  Violet and Jane stepped into the library with Mrs. Jeffers. Now that Haverlane had made Mrs. Jeffers the chatelaine proper, things were running much more efficiently at Fairhaven. Violet no longer had to help in the kitchens or with the housekeeping and it was a pleasure to be free, but also a burden. There was nothing to do.

  Jane sat on the floor with her books and Mrs. Jeffers in a chair by the fire, knitting another hat for the foundling home. Violet sat in Haverlane’s chair. The book of poetry Reverend Perry had loaned her lay on the table. Violet picked it up, but didn’t open it. She had cried more than her share of tears these last weeks and didn’t want to think about the future or the past. Living now, in the moment, would suit her well enough.

  And right now, Violet wanted to go outside. She would return the book and take a turn in the village. Perhaps call on Lady Batton. She rang for Flint.

  “My lady,” the young butler bowed.

  “Flint, would you ask Grennan to ready the small carriage, I should like to go down to the village,” Violet said.

  “Yes, mum.” He bowed and was gone.

  Mrs. Jeffers set aside her needles and rose from her chair. “Do you think it is wise? The air is still frigid.”

  “I am just too long indoors,” Violet said. “I believe it will do Jane and me both some good. I will take care and have rugs placed in the carriage. Would you like to accompany us?”

  “No, dearie, I thank you. My old bones ain’t what they used to be. I shall stay right here by the fire. However, do not you stay too long. I do not wish to nurse you again.” The old woman smiled with her admonishment.

  “No. Of course not. It shall be a quick trip. I should like to return Mrs. Perry’s book and perhaps call on Lady Batton.” She looked down at Jane. “Would you like to visit your friends, Jane? I would like to call on the Perry’s.”

  Jane scrambled to her feet. “Oh-Oh and Char-yee?”

  “Yes, dearest, Ophelia and little Charles. I am sure they must miss you.”

  Violet dressed Jane and herself warmly and they were off to the village as soon as the carriage turned into the courtyard.

  They returned before luncheon and Mrs. Jeffers remarked that Violet look refreshed.

  “I believe it was just the thing I needed,” Violet said. “I feel very well, indeed,”

  After lunch, while Jane napped, Violet sat in the library and penned a note to Haverlane.

  My Dear Marquess – 6 February

  Again, I wish to thank you for your thoughtful invitation to Lady Penny. It was most pleasurable to be in her company. Your notion of gowns has indeed, brightened my spirits and I cannot thank you enough for thinking of me.

  Jane and I went to the village this morning to escape the confines of the house and met with our excellent friends, the Perry’s. I hope you will not mind, as I cannot say no to anything Jane wishes, we have adopted a kitten. I think it will keep her occupied, inasmuch she will not be so forlorn thinking
of you. She has named the creature Brown. She is white with a small brown spot on her ear and Jane carries her everywhere.

  I have asked Mary to accompany us to London to help with the transition to Cousin Phyllidia’s care.

  I should not wish to burden you with a reply, as I know you are in keeping with our Prince. Know that we are all well and in good spirits.

  Yr. Obd. Svt.

  Violet

  The days passed quietly into a week. Too cold outside to work in the gardens, Violet thought she might take the room nearest the gallery upstairs and turn it into a small artist studio. The light was bright and she had been thinking of painting a few watercolors to hold Fairhaven in her memories.

  She and Jane were painting one morning when Flint came upstairs with a letter. Violet’s stomach fluttered at the sight of the script and eagerly ripped it open.

  My Dear Violet – 9 February

  A kitten indeed! I had no notion Jane even liked the creatures. I would hate to think if she wishes a calf. Do not be alarmed, the kit will be welcome here in Town as well. I am sure Cook will find it a pleasant addition to the kitchens to rid the mice.

  Our Prince has been seated and London is quite in uproar. George wishes to have a celebration to commemorate his experience. However, Queen Charlotte is aghast and refuses to allow it as she is still in mourning for her daughter. I believe George will bow to his mother’s wishes on this for the time being.

  Lady Penny informs me the preparations for her ball are coming along nicely. She has acquired the very best orchestra and outdone Lady Berringbourne to secure the night for the first ball of the Season. I am sure her aunt had a hand with that. Lady Berringbourne has always given the first ball.

  Lady Penny also says she has spoken with her modiste and should you wish it, you may feel free to use her to make your gowns. She has said Madame Rochelle will gladly fit you in to her schedule.

  Corbett will arrive for you, Jane, and Mary on the first of March to bring you home to London. Cousin Phyllidia writes and tells me she shall arrive sometime during the month. She will be traveling and does not have a fixed arrival date. I am glad Mary will accompany you and Jane.

  Please give Jane all my love and tell her it shan’t be too long until we meet again. I look forward to your return.

  Brown, indeed!

  I remain, Your –

  Haverlane

  During their last two weeks at Fairhaven, Violet and Jane took leave of Haverlane’s tenants and their friends in the village. Lord and Lady Batton had gone up to London for the new Regent’s ascendancy and told Violet, Haverlane looked well. Unfortunately, they also informed Violet that Lady Georgiana Baxter seemed to accompany him wherever he went. Lady Batton did not know how it crushed Violet to hear the words. Violet would have to settle herself to the idea of Lady Baxter and Haverlane together. If they were to meet socially, Violet would need to put her best foot forward, for Jane’s sake.

  As the time grew near to their departure, Violet painted a special portrait of her and Jane. She did not know how Jane would fare without her and the painting might take some of the sting out of their parting. Grennan made a frame for it and Violet wrapped it heavily to avoid damage during the journey.

  Mr. Corbett arrived with the big coach bearing Haverlane’s crest. They waited a day to give the horses a respite from traveling the soggy roads back to London. Violet could barely contain her excitement at the thought of seeing Haverlane again. However, her sadness at departing Fairhaven and Mrs. Jeffers and Grennan’s company left her weeping on the front stoop.

  “Now, dearie, I am sure we shall meet again,” Mrs. Jeffers said. “Dry your eyes. You do not wish to have Jane upset as well.”

  Violet did not and dashed the tears with the back of her mitten. “I shall miss you so, Mrs. Jeffers. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me during my tenure.”

  Mrs. Jeffers hugged Violet. “Think nothing of it, child. Now, get on with you. You do not wish the master to fret.”

  Violet shook Grennan’s hand. “Grennan, you are the truest and best of men and I thank you for taking such good care of us.”

  “Always my pleasure, Lady Violet,” he said. “The carriage awaits and Mr. Corbett is anxious to be off ‘afore the rain starts.” He glanced up at the sky.

  Violet did as well and noticed the heavy clouds. Yes, they must be off.

  Mary and Jane bundled into the carriage, and Violet took one last look at Fairhaven. Her pictures would be the only things she had left of the place and she was pleased she had had the forethought to paint them.

  Grennan helped her up, shut the door, and with a knock against the side of the carriage, they were off.

  The trip seemed interminable and Jane did not look well. The coach rocked and swayed over the rutted roads. A light rain began to fall and the coach grew darker. Jane fussed and cried. Violet was sure the child would be ill, but there was nothing for it. They were on their way to London and could not stop.

  They reached the house in St. Stephen’s Park and Violet had never been so thankful to get out of a vehicle. The bouncing and jutting proved very sore and her legs had cramped trying to keep them under the rug. Mary fared little better and heaved a sigh as they stood in the rain.

  “Do ye think the master is home?” Mary asked. “I see no light burning, nor is Mr. Manning here to open the door.”

  Violet wondered the same thing. She took Jane by the hand and walked to the door, gave a knock on the heavy brass handle. It took a few minutes before the door opened and Manning stood there, a panicked look on his face.

  “Lady Violet, Lady Jane, it is good to have you home at last,” he said. “Forgive me not greeting you. I was elsewhere in the house.” He looked down the hallway toward the library.

  Violet thought he looked very frightened and not happy at all they were arrived.

  “It is no consequence,” Violet said and stepped into the entry with Jane. Mary followed with the kitten. Corbett remained outside taking the bags from the carriage.

  “Where is Lord Haverlane?” Violet asked. “Is he from home, Mr. Manning?”

  She bent down to untie Jane’s bonnet and take off her coat. Violet remained in hers, as Mr. Corbett was taking her to her mother’s in the carriage as soon as she saw Jane settled.

  “No, my lady, he is in the library conducting, er, business,” Manning said.

  Did Manning blush?

  “Papa?” Jane asked.

  “Papa is with someone in the library, dearest,” Violet said. “He is conducting business and must not be disturbed.” Although before Violet could finish the sentence, Jane took off down the hall.

  Violet took up the wrapped portrait, and hurried after Jane, but the little girl had thrown open the door to the library and screamed, “Papa!”

  Violet made it to the doorway, just as Haverlane broke from the embrace of a stunning redheaded woman dressed in the latest fashion. Rubies glittered around her throat. Her hair, piled high, looked mussed and her mouth seemed puffy. The look she gave Jane wasn’t kind. In fact, she seemed positively outraged.

  Haverlane backed away from the woman, shot Violet a stricken look of horror, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Violet’s heart sank to the floor and her legs trembled as if they wouldn’t hold her up. She could only speculate as to who the woman was. But oh, the heartbreak! She had been waiting so long to see Haverlane, and now to find him in another woman’s embrace! ‘Twas too much to bear.

  “Papa,” Jane cried and flung herself at her father.

  Haverlane scooped her up and threw her high into the air, eliciting small screams of delight. He hugged her tight and kissed her face, big smooching sounds bringing laughter to his daughter’s lips.

  The lady maintained her disapproving countenance and Violet prayed she was not Cousin Phyllidia. However, this woman did not look like a governess.

  “Violet, come in, come in,” Haverlane said. “Do not stand in the doorway thu
s. Pray, give Manning your coat and tell me about the trip.”

  “Forgive me, my lord,” Violet managed to squeak. “Mr. Corbett holds the horses to return me to my mother’s house. Mary is arrived as well, and will take care of Jane. We did not stop to dine on the journey and I am sure Jane is hungry.” Overwhelmed by the woman’s beauty and the fact she and Jane had disturbed their tête-à-tête, Violet’s only thought was to flee.

  “Surely your mother would spare you a few minutes,” he said.

  Haverlane’s tone seemed adamant. Violet disregarded it.

  “I am sure she would if the weather fine, but Mr. Corbett fears for the horses. There is a cold rain.” Violet slowly backed out of the room, but could go no further than the doorway where Manning and Mary stood.

  Jane scrambled down from her father’s hold and ran to Violet. “Imma, no go!” She wrapped her arms around Violet’s legs and began to cry.

  Violet knelt down to the sobbing little girl. She leaned the wrapped portrait she still held against the library door. “I’m afraid I must away, dearest. My own mother is waiting my return.”

  “No! Imma no leave Jane!” The child cried harder and without warning, vomited all over Violet’s coat.

  The redheaded lady screamed and then fainted. Haverlane caught her before she hit her head on the table. The kitten jumped from Mary’s arms and ran through the room trying to escape. Jane cried and flung her arms around Violet’s neck, making an even bigger mess of Violet and Jane’s attire. Manning yelled down the hall for assistance before helping Haverlane lay the woman on the couch. Mary ran after the cat. Several footmen and parlour maids raced into the chaos and Violet wanted to cry – this was certainly not the homecoming she had envisioned.

  Violet found Haverlane’s eyes across the madness. He looked exceedingly displeased. Violet scooped Jane up and held her.

  “I shall settle Jane in her room,” Violet said. She left the library and quickly made her way to the stairs. A maid and footman hurried down in answer to the call for help and Violet asked the footman to relay the message to Mr. Corbett to stable the horses, as it would be quite some time before she would be ready to leave. She would walk home if necessary, she thought. She then asked the maid to show her Jane’s room and once there, directed the maid to go down to the kitchens for a bowl of weak broth, bread, and a bowl of warm fresh water and flannel.