by Beth Byers
“Do you mean trash?” Denny flicked off his cigarette. “Surely you do.”
“I do not,” Violet argued. “I most certainly do not. Our last heroine Isla was dim but not lewd. You, good sir, could do well to take on her better attributes!”
“Idiocy?” Denny demanded with a lifted brow.
Victor laughed. “She was stupid, Vi. Isla was based upon the terrible decisions of our foolish Isolde. It was why you created her. You know you needed to work through your frustration with our sister.”
“But both Isolde and Isla are sweet,” Violet countered. “Good-natured. Heroines with the best of intentions. Not lewd.”
“Good intentions pave the road to hell, my sweet,” Denny said. “I’m not saying I don’t enjoy your books, but they’re hardly high-brow.”
Violet leaned back with a scowl. “We have never, not once, claimed that they were the best books. Simply fun.”
“Fun they are. Your scarlet ghost was a compelling cad.” Lila nudged Denny as he started to counter. “Hush it, husband. You stole the book from me to read it first.”
“I suppose they’re fun,” Denny admitted with a wink. “I don’t think you can top the scarlet ghost. He is my favorite sort of dark hero.”
“The new heroine…” Violet started but Victor cut-in.
“I thought we decided we were writing another damsel. I think they are, by nature, a little dumb. Otherwise, they’d just save themselves. You would save yourself, Vi. After being around you, Isolde would probably save herself. She won’t need you to throw her into the Thames again. In fact, I’d count on you to save me if we were in trouble.”
Violet shot Victor a quelling look. The last thing she wanted to recall was her sister’s near-marriage to a fraudulent cad which ended in murder and Isolde’s kidnapping. Violet shook that memory off and said, “We’re writing a damsel. A runaway. The poor child escapes a lecherous guardian only to fall into the arms of a highwayman. Innocent to the ways of the world, not necessarily stupid.”
Lila laughed and clapped. “I do hope she has an inheritance. I despise reading about having to scrape for one’s bread. Feels too much of too many of our days.”
“We’ve never really had to scrape, darling,” Denny said, “or at least we wouldn’t have if we hadn’t thrown all our ready money at the nightclubs. Regardless, not anymore. God bless our dearly departed aunt.” Everything about his speech was lazy and the way he leaned back on his seat with his legs jutting out just so seemed to declare that the sheer act of sitting was a burden. Not his reality, for he was a vital man, but his affectation since he’d inherited. “Now we’re in the green. Rolling in it. Not quite like Victor, of course, who can get away with buying houses sight unseen. Let alone Vi, who can dive right into her bouillon and swim the breaststroke through her mountains of gold, but I think we’ll be all right for our bread.”
“Oh, come now,” Victor protested. “You were there. You should have stopped me. What sort of ally are you?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Denny grinned. “Terribly brilliant. I might have bought the old place myself if you hadn’t beat me to it. Thank God you did, my friend.”
“What’s this now?” Jack asked, glancing among the friends. “What have I missed?”
Victor deliberately misinterpreted his question. “It’s the well-known tale. You know it already. A virtuous damsel in need of saving and the good-hearted highwayman.”
Violet laughed at Jack’s snort. He repeated his question. “I don’t believe in good-hearted thieves. I am, after all, a copper. But, as you know, I was referring to the house. What have you done?”
Violet answered when Victor took another drag of his cigarette. “He got well and thoroughly zozzled. After which, he met a bright young lad in the local pub who told him the story of a wonderful house. A recent inheritance. A home for the ages. So, certainly, Victor thought: By Jove! I must have this house before someone else beats me to it. Right there in the pub, with his mind drowning in…”
“Gin & Tonic,” Victor supplied.
“Those fizzy drinks too. Whatever they were,” Denny added. “They were fab. Been thinking of them since we’ve been back.”
“Yes, those. I’ve been trying to make them but haven’t quite figured it out yet. It doesn’t help that my notes say, gin, lemon, house.”
Violet giggled and Jack choked back a laugh as Victor shrugged off their teasing.
“So,” Violet continued, “you see before you a homeowner. A man who has purchased a home for his legacy. Yet to be seen for himself, but certainly…”
“Something.” Victor cleared his throat and then again. “It’s something.”
“It must be at least that,” Lila laughed. “If nothing else—”
“It is, indeed, something.” Victor tapped off his cigarette. “And what more do I need?”
“That is the question, isn’t it, laddie?” Denny said. “What do you need? It is time to put on the responsible hat. Lila and I will be making arrangements for our house while we’re here. You’ll need to visit your place soon. Make the responsible list. Buy the linens. Make the parents proud. You know…all that righteous stuff.”
“I don’t think we want to visit,” Violet laughed, “until after the roof is fixed.”
“At least that,” Victor agreed. “Then if nothing else, we can go see the roses.”
* * *
“We’ve arranged for an auto,” Victor said to Lila and Denny as they left the train. “As you know, Violet cannot stand to be stranded among family—even your family—without an escape.”
The wind whipped through the train station and Lila tucked her arm through Violet’s. “But you will bring me with you, won’t you, Vi? You love me so. Bosom friends. Friends of the heart. Soul sisters.”
Violet nodded and winked before she gazed around. The train station wasn’t busy. There were a few people unloading crates from the train, a few more who were moving the crates from the back of the train to truck beds.
She could see Beatrice and Giles, their servants, unloading the trunks. Beatrice stood with the two spaniels on leashes next to a stack of trunks while Giles worked on getting a porter to help him load the trunks.
Beyond them, there was a small family with rosy-cheeked children who were hopping in puddles. Their mother looked on in consternation while their father didn’t seem to notice the mess or noise. A woman in a thick coat was approaching, arms out and squealing over the children.
The skies overhead were grey with thick clouds and a steady drizzle, and the chill seemed to declare that there was the possibility of snow.
“Oh, this town,” Violet said, staring around. “It’s so quaint. Dare I say adorable?”
“Welcome to the end of the world.” Denny pulled his coat closer and tucked Lila into his side to block the wind. “May we escape it unscathed.”
Lila shivered. “Let’s get home. I feel like there’s snow in the air. I want a fire, a hot toddy, all those winter things.”
They separated with Jack accompanying Violet and Victor while Lila and Denny went to the driver and auto that had been sent for them. There was another auto to bring the servants, Giles and Beatrice, and baggage.
The house was a short drive from the train station, and it was lovely. The type of place that their stepmother would describe as ‘little,’ but it was by no means tiny. The garden was a sight even in winter, and the red brick had the remnants of some sort of vine that would turn the house into a fairy wonderland in the spring and summer.
Denny and Lila had arrived a few minutes ahead of the rest of them and were walking up the steps. The door had been opened by a uniformed butler and Denny was saying something that was clearly self-deprecating. Violet laughed at the view of him.
“He looks uncomfortable, doesn’t he?” Victor parked the auto and glanced back at Violet and Jack, who’d taken the rear seat. “Rather like a child playing at being the lord of the house. Unemployment and an allowance becomes
him better in the city.”
Jack choked on a laugh. “He does seem like he’s playacting.”
“It’s why they need us,” Violet said, buffing her nails against her coat. “They need someone to back them up when their family starts to tell them what to do.”
As they walked up the steps, Violet saw Lila glance back, her gaze wide and her expression frustrated.
“Uh oh,” Violet said low enough that only Jack and Victor could hear her.
“What now?” Jack asked, and Violet pressed her lips together.
The butler was there and she didn’t want to be overheard. She shot Jack an expression, trying to silently convey her thoughts, but he didn’t quite follow her.
“Vi, Victor, Jack, come meet my sister,” Lila said. “Isn’t it fun that she’s here to greet us?” Lila’s expression said she wasn’t delighted in the least, and Violet was pretty sure the little sister was well aware of Lila’s feelings. The tension between the two of them was vicious.
Lila was curvier than was stylish, as was her sister, but both of them wore dresses that lengthened their figures. They had matching hair bobs though Lila’s hair was mussed by a hat and travel and her sister’s was smooth and glossy. They both had wide, blue eyes and full lips, but Lila’s exasperated expression disguised her beauty.
“This is my sister, Martha.” Lila finished the introductions as Violet watched the sister.
The girl’s gaze fixed on Victor’s face, and he tensed as her gaze brightened. She looked him over as a prize horse—pure assessment. The girl wasn’t just intrigued by Victor, she was out and out avaricious. There was no question she’d arrived to lay an early claim.
Victor was a handsome man, stylish and generally kind. Even after traveling, he was impressive. Dressed to the nines, there was every reason for a girl to be instantly infatuated. The problem wasn’t the infatuation, it was her careful arrival, her flashy dress, her apparent readiness to throw herself towards him. Martha had heard of Victor previously and was determined to plunge herself into love even if she had to drag him protesting after.
Given she had to have just left school, she was making him more uncomfortable than intrigued. She looked up at Victor through those wide eyes, fluttering her lashes and pursing her lips just enough to accentuate their fullness. Violet glanced at Victor, whose expression had smoothed into impassivity.
This, Violet thought, was what became of being an earl’s son with a recent inheritance. Victor might be the honorable son instead of the heir, but he was a catch for the monetarily minded woman.
“Let’s let them wash up,” Lila snapped.
Martha lingered near Victor until Violet tugged him closer to her and said, “I do have a chill. A bit of a wash up and some warmed toes would be just the thing, don’t you think?”
Victor squeezed her arm as Lila said, “Inkwell, will you see Mr. Wakefield and the Carlyles are shown to their rooms, please?”
“Come now, Martha,” Lila ordered, grabbing her sister’s wrist and yanking her down the hall. “Tell me everything.”
Violet watched Lila haul her sister away and laughed into Victor’s arm. He shot her a quelling look, but that only made her press her face into his arm even harder to muffle her laughter.
“You, sir,” she told him when she gained her composure, “are the fox. Martha is the hound ready to run you to ground.”
He tugged one of her locks of hair. “Don’t think I don’t intend on using you as a buffer. Polish up your skills, darling. I need your protection. You see before you a damsel awaiting your protection.”
Jack laughed and Victor turned on him. “You know, Jack, I’m not the only one with a good income. I’ve heard the tales of the Wakefield fortune. The young Miss Martha Brown seems to have that as her primary concern given that she’s never met me before. It may not take much to sway her attention to you, my fine fellow.”
Jack’s gaze darted to Violet. “My attentions are fixed elsewhere.”
Violet didn’t move, afraid that any reaction would be off-putting, but her heart jumped into a gallop.
“Well, now,” Denny said, distracting Jack from Vi, “happy Christmas everyone. The game’s afoot, the play’s begun, all the world’s a stage, etcetera, etcetera, I need a drink.”
“Ah.” Victor glanced after the path that Lila had dragged her sister. “Yes. I think we’re all going to need a drink shortly.”
“Don’t give up hope, my lad,” Denny said. “Lila is all sweetness and laughter amongst us. With her sister, the cat comes out. I have little doubt she’ll be sending young Martha on her way and we’ll have a quiet dinner before you’re released into the wild for the hunt.”
Chapter 4
Thank goodness that the first night in Lila and Denny’s home wasn’t one of the evenings they’d be spending with the larger family party. Violet curled onto her bed with her book awhile, resting from the day of travel before bathing and dressing carefully. The gown she chose was a few months old, a long drape of light blue fabric that gathered near her chest with a jeweled belt before dropping to her mid-calves.
Violet powdered her nose, applied her kohl, rouge, and a red lipstick. She wore black t-strap shoes with a shorter heel and a diamond buckle. Violet did love buckles that glittered though she doubted anyone other than herself and Lila would appreciate them. Given the belt around her waist, Violet put the first wrap of her pearls around her neck as a choker and then left the second loop far lower so it would not hide the jeweled accent at her chest.
Her dog watched Vi’s every move, leaning against her legs, and leaving behind a few stray hairs. Beatrice brushed Rouge at least one time a day, but the spaniel was a monster for hair.
“There you are, darling,” Lila said as Violet joined them in the parlor after having warmed herself, changed, and given Lila enough time to expel Martha. “My sister has returned home to notify the family we’ve arrived, but we won’t have to go over until dinner tomorrow.”
Victor winked at Violet as he handed her a hot toddy. “Bless you, my lad,” Violet said, breathing it in. “This is just what I needed.”
Violet sipped the hot toddy, taking a seat next to Jack on the ancient Chesterfield. He smiled at her while Denny asked, “Did you want a cigarette?”
She shook her head while Jack took one. Lila lit one off of Denny and then crossed to sit next to Violet on the other side. “Darlings,” she declared, “word has reached the nether reaches of the money from your aunt. Probably because I blabbed. Regrets and all that. The good news is Jack is a bit of a scary proposition to challenge. Victor, you’re the one who’ll be relentlessly pursued with stars in their eyes and imaginings of how lovely life would be with your pocketbook.”
Victor grunted while Violet laughed. Jack shifted but didn’t say anything about the claim he had on Violet. Was Lila trying to push Jack and Violet together? They’d all heard Jack’s claim of fixed affections. Violet still had it replaying in her mind every time she had a moment to think.
“Don’t worry, Victor,” Violet said, “We won’t let you pick up a wife like you picked up your house. Rally round, friends, Victor needs saving.”
Lila didn’t look all that apologetic as she said, “Even if Martha catches you, you can throw her over later. It’ll be a good training ground for Martha. She needs to soften her approach.”
“Ahhh,” Victor had to sip his hot toddy before he could respond. “Who else will we be dealing with? Any other grasping hands to avoid?”
Denny refilled his drink as he said, “There’s Lila’s cousin, Harriet. I’ve heard she’s become a bit…wild. Throwing over fiancées, breaking hearts, being linked up with married men. I don’t know what the details are, but I’d avoid her if you want to avoid scandal.”
“Or,” Violet suggested, “throw yourself on her mercy knowing her heart will survive when you escape her clutches later.”
Jack glanced at Violet and smirked. “Cruel.”
“I’ve already thrown myself on your me
rcy, luvvie,” Victor told his twin. “I’ll count on Lila sending some relative my way who wishes to dance without falling in love.”
“You know,” Lila mused, “that’s a good idea. There is Kate. She’s a little quieter than the rest of the cousins and gets overlooked.”
“My favorite, to be honest,” Denny said. “You can count on her for wicked asides if she likes you.”
“Yes, please,” Victor begged. “Ask her to save me. Tell her I’ll be endlessly grateful.”
“She’s a brainy one.” Denny crossed his legs and raised a brow as if Victor would protest.
“I have no objection to brains in a woman,” Victor said grandly and Violet kicked him, having to stretch to get him in his chair from the Chesterfield. He didn’t even acknowledge her kick. “Violet has trained me well to expect them.”
“We should bring her back with us,” Lila said, suddenly inspired. “Her mother is one of those crabby things who always finds one wanting. I am certain Kate could use a bit of a breather from it all. Maybe we’ll take her to the seaside? Shall we, Denny?”
“You know I am ever in your mercy,” he said amiably. “Whatever you desire, my sweet, even the seaside in January.”
“What if we went back to the Amalfi coast for a few weeks?” Violet sipped her drink, breathing in the spices and then sighing. “Shall we all go sit next to the sea and get whatever sun Italy can spare for us poor Brits? Poor Helen Mathers has returned to England now and, the villa is free once again. She wanted to be home to spend Christmas with Anna.”
The butler arrived before anyone could reply to the offer, and they rose to eat and then digest over records and chatter. When Violet went to bed, she went with her unread Tarzan novel, the memory of dancing with Jack in the parlor.
When she woke, she slowly pushed herself out of her bed, shoving back her eye mask and crossing to the fire to stoke it higher. Violet peeked through the curtains and paused in appreciation.
