Untaming Lady Violet by April Moran
Chapter 16
“Your parents shall arrive within the week, Lady Violet.” William frowned at the sight of an orangish tuft of fur on Violet’s skirts. Seeing where his eyes had fallen, she flushed and immediately plucked it away. Then, unsure what to do with the offending stuff, she simply closed her palm around it, letting her arm hang by her side.
“Yes, of course,” Violet murmured. She obediently remained at her “maybe” fiancé’s side.
Tristan clasped his hands behind his back, fighting the urge to rip Violet away from Lord Gadley and the hold he had of her elbow. Christ, the man was more odious than he remembered.
“What news of London, Gadley?” Henry Bowman asked, jovially. “Boodles must-have new play on the books. Details, my dear man. We need details.”
“Not a suitable subject with ladies present, Lord Bowman,” Lord Darby admonished, approaching the group where they stood in the grand entry hall.
“My apologies, ladies. Don’t know what I was thinking, other than curiosity got the best of me. I do enjoy a good wager.” Henry’s apology was both contrite and yet unabashed. He winked at Violet, and Tristan grit his teeth.
Must he watch every eligible bachelor visiting Darby Woods flirt with his little wallflower?
“There’s a time and place for such things,” the earl responded, leaning heavily on his cane.
Tristan thought his father appeared paler than when he’d last seen him at supper the night before. His mother cast Tristan a concerned glance before greeting their newest guest.
“Welcome, Lord Gadley. If your valet will supervise the servants on carrying the baggage to your room, perhaps you would appreciate a brandy or other refreshments after your long journey from London.” Lady Darby gestured toward Tristan. “Longleigh can accompany you to the main salon, if you like.”
William released Violet’s elbow so he could withdraw a hinged snuff box from a hidden pocket on the inside of his coat. Popping the ornately enameled case open, he took two pinches of tobacco and leisurely inhaled them before answering his host. Violet, meanwhile, gazed at him with barely concealed distaste.
“That would be delightful, Lady Darby. It’s said your salon is one of the finest in all of England.” William turned to Tristan with a smug grin. “Longleigh has never extended an invite, but I’m pleased to be here regardless. If you’ll lead the way, Longleigh.” He glanced at Violet. “We must have a private conversation, my dear. Later, of course, once I’ve settled in.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. God’s blood, the man was truly loathsome.
Catching Violet’s gaze, Tristan gave her a small smile. Unable to help himself, he rubbed his fingers together. A trace residue of her silky arousal still lingered there.
It was hedonistic, of course, but he reveled in that fact. He’d give his fortune to be in his studio at that precise moment with Violet still at his mercy. He would make her shatter into a thousand pieces if granted a second opportunity.
His thoughts must have shown plainly, for Violet immediately blushed bright pink and tore her gaze away from his.
“Yes, lead the way, Longleigh. I believe we could all use a drink.” Bowman laughed heartily, bowing toward Tristan’s father. “Lord Darby, it is rumored your brandy selection rivals that of the Duke of Richeforte. Having only sampled yours, I am unable to present an unbiased comparison. Richeforte should bring a bottle or two so that a proper assessment may take place.”
“Perhaps he will,” the earl replied absently to Bowman. “But with a pretty new wife, such trivial things may be far from his mind.” He watched Tristan’s reaction with a curious expression on his features.
Tristan did not miss the way Violet bit her bottom lip with his father’s off-the-cuff statement. The plump bit of flesh turned scarlet when she released it. If he had his way, he would soothe her with a kiss and the reminder he had no interest at all in the new Duchess of Richeforte.
“Will you join us, Father?” Tristan inquired, turning to the earl.
“Another time, son.” Darby dismissed Tristan with a wave of his hand, then turned to smile at Violet. “Violet, dear, I do hope you are enjoying your stay here. I was just saying to Lady Darby it’s been too long since you came to visit us. You are always welcome here, regardless of the season or event.”
What an odd thing for his father to say. Tristan puzzled over it as Lord Darby gave him a hard stare. “Tristan, join me in my study in an hour’s time.”
Whatever the earl wished to discuss, Tristan was fairly certain it revolved around Violet and the attention he’d shown her the past week.
And that definitely set his nerves on edge.
* * *
Others accompaniedthem to the main salon; the arrival of new guests warranted a welcome round of beverages. A lively mix of both men and women soon filled the space.
Violet deftly avoided William. Each time he reached for her, she slid out of reach. Tristan found her evasiveness quite fascinating.
“Ugh,” Celia sighed, taking up a spot beside Tristan. “I’d forgotten how disagreeable that man is. And I don’t know what’s gotten into him. In the past, he’s scarcely shown her any attention at all, but now? Now, he seems obsessed with touching her every chance he gets. Poor Violet. I imagine it feels similar to pursuit by a reptile of some sort. Although, I suppose I should refrain from voicing my criticism. The man will probably be her husband soon enough.”
Tristan clenched the glass in his hand tighter with his sister’s words. He did not need that reminder.
Gadley’s sudden interest in staking his claim was not so puzzling if one understood men’s predictable reaction to perceived threats. Obviously, the smug and infamously emotionless man had deduced Henry Bowman wasn’t the only gentleman interested in the shy redhead. Other men were now sniffing around her skirts as well.
Tristan included himself in that group.
“If only someone with a richer purse and an agreeable personality offered for Violet. Lord Everstone would surely consider an alternative.” Celia stared into the pale depths of the glass of lemonade a servant handed her. “But then again, perhaps he would not. For a year, Violet has been dangled in front of Gadley as if she were a golden carrot. He links his name to the esteemed Everstone crest, and in return, the earl receives a generous settlement for the rights to his daughter. It’s an unfair exchange, I think, with Violet coming out on the short end of things. He’s not shown a whit of interest in her all this time, and now…”
Across the room, William swallowed the dregs of his third brandy. Setting the glass down, he successfully snagged Violet’s elbow when she was distracted by Lady Fiona’s entrance. Drawing her aside from the other guests, he spoke rather sternly while she listened with a blank expression, her eyes downcast.
Violet’s docile nature left Tristan feeling nauseous and confused. Where was the spark he’d seen earlier when she granted him permission to explore as he willed beneath her skirts?
Violet shook her head in response to something William said, pulling free and wrapping her arms almost defensively around her waist. Seeing her unease stiffened Tristan’s backbone. And when her gaze shot across the room to lock with his, he physically restrained himself from rushing to her side.
Aware that her attention had drifted to the viscount, Gadley gripped her arm again, his mouth flattening into an ugly line.
Pain flashed across Violet’s delicate features.
“The bastard…” Tristan breathed.
“Tristan,” Celia warned. “Don’t. You’ve no rights when it comes to Violet.”
“You go to her, then. Quickly. Before I rip the man’s arms from his body.”
Celia nodded, setting down her glass. Without another word, she hurried across the room.
Tristan had no idea what Celia said as she slid an arm around Violet’s waist but William released her with a reluctant scowl.
In her usual charming way, his sister’s mannerism remained bright and cheerful while engaging the gentleman in conversation. Finally giving a tight nod, William stepped back so the two women could dip their heads in a private discussion. A moment later, Violet searched out Tristan, their eyes locking.
A smile of gratitude curved her lips, softening them and reminding him how sweetly they molded to his. She was still smiling as Celia led her from the salon.
William watched them go, his face hard, cold, and oddly determined, and Tristan wondered why that sent a shiver of unease up his spine.
* * *
Tristan closedthe door and sat in a chair closer to the fireplace.
His father had not yet arrived, although, to be fair, it was a few minutes before the designated time. With a sigh, he considered making himself a drink but decided against it for the moment.
At five after four, his father entered the study. He appeared almost surprised at the sight of his son already seated by the fire. However, he quickly recovered and made his way to a small bar set up in the corner.
“Will you have a brandy, son?”
“Certainly.” Tristan stood up, respectfully waiting for his father to approach with the drinks before he retook his seat.
Handing over a brandy snifter, Lord Darby sat in a chair opposite of Tristan with a heavy sigh.
Tristan studied the earl, noting the pallor of his skin and his heavy breath. Concern once again caused his own chest to tighten. “You don’t seem well this afternoon, sir.”
Father waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s just the dampness of the spring mornings catching up to me.” Taking a sip of brandy, he fixed Tristan with a steely eye. “Now, what’s this business between you and Violet Everstone?”
Tristan shrugged. “Nothing other than the customary interest one would expect for a Darby Meadows guest.”
The earl gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Customary? Your mother and I have witnessed your interest. Regardless of the potential alliance her father has arranged, Violet could be an excellent addition to the list we’ve assembled. We’ve not added her due to the arrangement we’ve had over the years with Everstone. It would require a bit of negotiation on my part, but if she is the one you want—”
“I’ve stated as forcibly as I dare, Father, that I’ve no interest in marriage to anyone. Besides, I regard Lady Violet as nothing more than a friend.” A friend I’ve discovered has the most delectable, ripest, peach-flavored lips. Lips I cannot get enough of. Would a rational person kiss a friend in such a manner? As if one’s own life depended on tasting the sweetness of another’s essence?
“I can’t understand your reluctance to pursue the possibility of finding a wife. After your experience with Grace, one would think you’d be willing to find someone you could call your own,” Lord Darby scoffed. “And of the two, Violet is far more suitable in temperament and nature. You and Grace were too much alike, but not in the areas where it mattered most. It is why I did not encourage a match.”
“While you are correct in your assessment of my lack of compatibility with Grace, the decision to remain a bachelor has nothing to do with the new duchess and everything to do with myself.”
“Would you ever consider the Everstone girl?” his father pressed, leaning forward in his chair and fixing Tristan with an intent stare. “Even with the complete lack of gain she might bring to a marriage? It is my understanding that, at the moment, only her name is worth any value.”
“My decision to marry, if and when it ever occurs, shall have nothing to do with a woman’s monetary value. Nor her social standing, for that matter,” Tristan said firmly. “I shall wed her because she wishes to marry me as much as I wish to marry her.”
Darby regarded Tristan over the rim of the brandy snifter. “Admirable. Although that did not seem to be the sentiment during your pursuit of Grace.”
Tristan stiffened. “I’ve changed much since then, sir.”
And he had. Seeing the deep, unwavering love Grace and Nicholas shared certainly proved he was wrong in forcing his attentions on an uninterested party. It was a mistake he would never make again.
“It is not my intention to meddle in my friend’s affairs, nor my son’s, for that matter, but it has not escaped notice that the man Everstone selected for his daughter meets only the requirement of having a sufficient amount of funds.” Darby sighed. “And Gadley is willing to exchange those funds for a blue-blooded name. Your mother, bless her gentle soul, is greatly disturbed by this. She carries a deep fondness for Violet. And Celia, well, your sister is beside herself. She’s convinced, if a marriage takes place, it will destroy the girl.”
“I don’t see how you can do anything about it, sir.” Tristan stood from the chair and rested an arm on the fireplace mantle. He felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. As if a trap were being set and he’d walked willingly into the teeth of it.
“I cannot,” Darby said in a low voice behind him. “But you can.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“Perhaps, if you are thought to be a serious candidate for her hand, Gadley will withdraw his suit. A more appropriate gentleman may then be vetted for the poor girl. Lord Bowman, for example. He’s a decent sort, and I’ve noticed his interest in her. I could endorse him to Everstone.”
Tristan gritted his teeth at the thought of Bowman laying claim to Violet every night as her lawful husband.
“Really, Father,” he snorted in disdain. “How did Mother and Celia coerce you into endorsing such a hare-brained scheme? God’s teeth. I’ve no interest in being a part of whatever fate Everstone has in store for his daughter, and very little faith our actions would make a difference to the good or the bad. That man is ruthless. He has been that way since you were both boys at Eaton. Had he not saved you from drowning that one day, you two would barely be acquaintances. If he stands to make a shilling off the sale of his daughter, who are we to stand in his way?”
Tristan’s words proclaimed his disinterest, but a merciless stab of possessiveness gutted him. The thought of Violet bartered off was almost more than he could bear. Could his father see the lie on his face?
“That’s all true, but Gadley is perhaps even more heartless. You’ve heard rumors of his dealings with the fairer sex, Tristan.” Darby set a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Think upon it, won’t you, son? Our interference could mean a vastly different life for her.”