Untaming Lady Violet by April Moran
Chapter 20
Violet could not say with certainty how she made it back to her room.
The aftermath of those moments with Tristan was a bit hazy. Like a lovely dream with sharp edges and bright flashes of color. Certain moments and details etched into her mind. The rasp of his cheeks against the inside of her tender thighs. The quick flicker of his tongue against her sex and the bluntness of his finger filling her until she thought she might overflow.
There was the moment she plunged over a jagged cliff, calling his name, her hands clenched in his hair so he would not move away from her. A disturbingly primal thrill illuminated her soul when he gripped her hip tighter in response. His fingers bit almost cruelly into her flesh as though he wanted to leave marks of possession.
She wanted those marks. Wanted him. Desperately and without reason.
After that remarkable experience, she had drifted in a cloud of satisfaction. Tristan rose from the floor, murmured unintelligible words into her hair, then kissed her mouth softly. She could taste herself on his lips, salty and sweet, but it did not bother her like it should have. She let him soothe and pet her, and stood still while he rearranged her clothing.
There was no protest formed when he left her slumped against the wall and returned with a silky black robe from his wardrobe. Wrapping it around her, he muttered beneath his breath something about being damned if he’d allow her to go back through the corridors in the same half-dressed state in which she’d come to him.
Tristan did not speak at all as he returned her to her bedchamber. He seemed content in allowing the silence to hang between them.
Violet wasn’t sure she could conduct an intelligent conversation anyway.
With a hand to her elbow, Tristan stopped her before they reached her doorway.
“I’ll leave you here, Violet. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see me outside your room at this time of night. Not when we are both so scandalously underdressed.” He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the shadowy alcove he’d pulled her into. With gentle hands, he pulled his robe from her body. “And while my heart pounds seeing you in this, there would be no rational explanation for my robe being in your room.”
Violet nodded. Of course, everything Tristan said made perfect sense. Only, there was a tiny portion of her soul yearning that he would not leave her. That he would follow her into her room. Lock the door. Kiss and caress her again until she could not form words and soared again.
Tristan’s head cocked at her continued silence. “Are you well, Violet?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper that sent tingles chasing each other down Violet’s spine. “I did not hurt you, did I? I wasn’t too rough?”
His eyes, so darkly expressive and fathomless, watched her reaction.
Violet hugged herself, suddenly cold without the voluminous warmth of his robe. “No, Tristan. You did not hurt me. I’m fine, really.”
There was a flash of relief in his gaze. “Good. Then I’ll say goodnight.” Very gently, he kissed her, then gave her a tiny nudge to encourage her feet to begin moving. “Meet me tomorrow in the rose garden for your beast’s portrait, and we shall put my plan into action. Hurry to your room now.”
She did as he ordered. Before the door closed completely, shutting out the light from the hallway sconces, Violet saw a slight movement.
It was down the corridor and in the opposite direction of the alcove where Tristan had already melted into the shadows. She peered into the darkness to determine if her eyes were playing tricks but could see nothing worthy of alarm.
Violet shut the door, wishing it were “tomorrow”, already.
* * *
The next day,Violet made her way to Lady Darby’s garden. She carried Carrot in her arms and laughed softly at the mewing sounds he made upon seeing a flock of brown sparrows foraging on the pathway.
Tristan was not waiting by the massive circular fountain, but an easel and blank canvas were already set up.
She did not expect him to be there. She’d come early for the purpose of allowing Carrot to become familiar with his surroundings.
Perching herself on the fountain’s wide basin wall, Violet placed the cat on the ground.
Carrot immediately darted toward the birds, coming up short in his quest. The leash attached to the tiny collar restricted his stalking range. Giving a low yowl, he crouched by Violet’s feet, tail twitching in frustration at being unable to reach the tiny birds.
Violet found it surprising that the garden was not populated. Afternoons usually meant a steady stream of visitors parading along the gravel paths. They admired the roses blooming in all shades and sizes, as well as the magnificent stone fountain in the garden’s center. The musical sound of water splashing over the four tiers was soothing, the late afternoon light sparkling through the waterdrops enthralling. It was a beautiful spot to spend the afternoon.
“This is where you’ve run off to today. I’ve been looking for you, my dear.”
William emerged from one of the five pathways designed like wheel spokes to end at the fountain. Coldly handsome as usual, his golden hair gleamed in the sun and his clothes were the epitome of fashion.
Adjusting the cuff of his jacket, he halted before her, an eyebrow shooting skyward. “What is that?”
Violet tightened her grip on Carrot’s leash, noting the kitten moved closer until he was pressed against her skirts. William’s appearance was suspicious. He would not have known she was in the gardens unless he’d been apprised of her whereabouts.
“It’s the kitten I told you of. The one I rescued.”
“Do you realize you and that creature share almost the exact shade of hair color? Remarkable.” William glanced about the garden as if expecting someone might join them. “Do you often put it on a leash?”
“This is Carrot’s first time outside since I took him from the stables. Perhaps it is a bit overwhelming for him. He seems a tad frightened.”
“That he does,” William agreed. “A weak constitution, I imagine. Certainly not fit for life as a pet.”
Violet bristled at the insult. “Carrot is very brave, Lord Gadley. But this is a new setting for him.”
Staring at the cat, who decided in that moment to both scratch his ear and begin licking his coat in an impressive display of self-grooming, William grimaced in distaste.
“Filthy creature. I can only wonder at the number of fleas he likely harbors this very moment. Did you carry him here? Or does he walk while on that bit of ribbon you are holding?”
Fleas? Carrot had no fleas, of that Violet was certain. He was a fastidiously clean kitten. “I carried him, of course.”
“Then no doubt, you are infested as well. This won’t do at all, my dear. Not at all.”
Before Violet could discern his meaning, William scooped Carrot by the nape of the neck. Held out over the water in the fountain’s lowest basin, the cat issued a squealing roar of protest.
“Best we go ahead and eliminate him, my dear. You’ll only find it more painful should you continue forming an attachment. Do not fear. I’ll dispose of him properly.”
Violet stared at William in open-mouthed horror. Did he intend on drowning her cat right before her very eyes?
“What are you doing? Put him down at once, Lord Gadley. How can you even think to be so cruel? If you hurt him, I shall never forgive you… never!” She cried in protest. Shaking off her shock, she jumped up from the fountain and attempted stealing the kitten back. William kept Carrot just out of her reach. All the while, Carrot twisted and turned in his captor’s hold, scratching at whoever gripped the back of his neck.
“Give him back to me. Give him back!” Violet grabbed William’s free arm, using it as leverage so she could get closer to Carrot. “Oh, please!”
“I forbid you to keep this animal, and I won’t allow it in my home, no matter how prettily you beg. I’ve heard it said cats do not like water, so I suppose it will not be an easy go of it for the ugly beast. But we’ll be rid of it, anyway.”
Tears trickled down Violet’s cheeks; however, they were not ones born of helplessness. On the contrary, they were the manifestation of some sort of madness overtaking her body. Stomping the crown of William’s foot with the heel of her shoe, she succeeded in bringing his arm down enough that she could wrest the cat from his grip.
Violet glared at William, watching as he hopped in pain. Carrot meowed plaintively, his claws latching in her dress bodice as if he expected to be snatched from her arms at any moment.
“You horrid, horrid man. If you harm Carrot in any way, you shall pay dearly for it. I promise you that.” She dashed tears away with the back of her hand.
Recovering enough that he could bear weight on his injured foot, William grabbed Violet. Eyes glittering with fury, his face darkened to an unflattering shade of mottled red. Holding her arm in a punishing grip, he pulled her so close their noses nearly touched. To an outside observer, it would appear they shared an intimate kiss.
“Why, you little bitch,” William hissed. “Don’t think I won’t make you regret your impudence. Once you are my wife, I’ll do as I please with you and that damned cat. If I choose to drown him or quarter him, you’ll have no say in the matter. Indeed, you won’t have much of a say on anything of note.”
William was the only second man she’d ever dare strike. The imprint of her hand on his skin bloomed redder than the roses surrounding the fountain.
He responded by jerking her closer, squeezing her upper arms until Violet was sure bruises were forming. A fresh surge of tears welled in her eyes, and the cold rage on William’s face was enough that she was frightened into silence.
“Perhaps I should teach you that lesson now—” he snarled.
“Release her, Gadley.”
Tristan’s voice echoed sharp as a gunshot in the serene peacefulness of the garden. Violet gulped in a breath of pure relief, a sob threatening to escape despite her best efforts to remain calm. The viscount looked incredibly tall as he stalked toward them. More than that. He was invincible.
William’s hands tightened cruelly around Violet’s arms, but his features rearranged themselves into a pleasant mask.
“Your concern is unnecessary. Lady Violet and I were simply having a discussion. You see, we cannot agree on the issue of this animal becoming part of the wedding contract negotiations.” His smile, while sharp, remained congenial.
“And I’m telling you to let her go,” Tristan said in the iciest tone Violet had ever heard him use. “Or must I convince you?”
William’s grip loosened as he regarded Tristan with growing suspicion. He finally noticed the easel and the fact the three of them were alone in the garden.
“What’s this about, Longleigh?” Brushing a hand over his elegant coat so any stray cat hairs were removed, William sounded thoroughly disinterested in whatever the answer might be. “A garden tryst of some sort?”
“I have promised Lady Violet a portrait of her pet.”
William’s laugh was derisive. “You waste precious time on that venture. Not to mention squandering materials best used on worthier subjects than that flea-ridden creature. Have you gone mad, sir?”
Violet sidled away with the cat cradled protectively against her chest. William’s icy-blue eyes narrowed when he realized she was out of reach now.
“Far from it. The clarity I have at this very moment is astounding,” Tristan drawled.
Daring a peek in Tristan’s direction, Violet was stunned by the almost visible waves of cold rage emanating from his person. Would he rip William Gadley to shreds using nothing but his bare hands?
Tristan’s eyes flickered to Violet. His gaze softened, warming the tiniest bit.
“Come here, Violet.”
Violet did not care he murmured her given name in a conspicuous breach of social etiquette. She did not even care that William heard it. The connotations of Tristan’s informality in a public setting should have set off alarm bells, but Violet felt only relief.
She ran to Tristan, fighting the urge to launch herself into his arms. Instead, she made herself stand calmly beside him, avoiding William’s intense scrutiny by crooning to the oddly silent Carrot.
Tristan moved so Violet’s body was shielded by his own. Without a single touch, he conveyed possessiveness.
A small, mean smile of understanding curved William’s lips. “You appear very comfortable with one another, Longleigh. Ordinarily, I might find it alarming.” His laugh was taunting. “But I’ve little concern you’ll steal our sweet Violet away from me, considering your dedicated aversion to matrimony. I do find it interesting, however, that you’ve already forgotten how the Duchess broke your heart when she married another. One cannot blame you for following a set pattern of pursuing a woman who will never be yours.”