Untaming Lady Violet by April Moran
Chapter 33
The restlessness Tristan could not shake sent him to his studio where he spent yet another sleepless night.
He worked until the early morning hours. The portrait of her kitten, of which he’d given the whimsical title “Carrots and Roses” was nearly complete. And “A Feast of Violets” was entering the secondary phase where he focused on intricate details, adding all the little touches that would make it come alive.
It was an hour or two before dawn when he finally laid his brushes aside, his thoughts consumed by Violet. He could not stop worrying about her when she appeared so despondent upon leaving him behind in the library. Her responses to his queries were dull. Listless. And each time he tried to touch her, she skillfully evaded the attempts until he finally gave up.
She is simply overwhelmed by the events of the past few days. It’s been a total upheaval of her life after others directed her future for so long.
The niggling thought he might be guilty of controlling her as well was shoved aside.
He was doing what was best for Violet. And that meant eliminating Gadley. Already bleeding from a broken nose, the man’s ranting that Violet would still be his only resulted in additional injury while being escorted off Darby Meadows property. Nicholas, with an examination of his own hand, had related the man’s ribs were harder than they should be.
Doing what was best for Violet also involved cutting all ties binding her to her parasitic parents. Already, Tristan had made arrangements that any lien against the Everstone estate was fully paid. And if her father could not stand on his own two feet after having his debts covered, at the very least, Violet would no longer serve as a sacrifice to greed.
Tristan would soon give her a type of freedom unlike anything she’d ever known before. It was risky, however. There was a monstrous chance she would like flying on her own. Flying without him around to catch her.
Violet could have independence on her own.
Or she could have freedom and a life with him.
A life where he would adore, cosset, and spoil her until he took his last breath on earth.
Stepping into the corridor leading to his bedchamber, he was surprised when he encountered his sister.
Dressed in the same clothes she’d worn to dinner, Celia heaved a sigh of relief. She advanced toward him; her arms crossed in obvious frustration.
“There you are! I don’t know why I didn’t think to look in your studio.”
“Celia, what the devil are you doing up at this hour of the morning? Have you even been to bed?”
“I’ve been with Violet, if you must know. And now, you must go to her as well,” Celia said with narrowed eyes.
“Is she all right? She was rather… distant when l last saw her.”
“No. She’s not all right. Her mother… Well, I will let her explain it all. Just go to her, Tristan. She needs you. And for God’s sake, listen to her.”
Tristan was already brushing past Celia when she called out to his rapidly retreating form. He did not stop to consider what she meant by her instructions that he listen to Violet.
Celia’s next words, floating down the hallway after him, made little sense either.
“She’s your destiny, Tristan. Your destiny. And you are hers.”