“She’s risking our future for a party?”
“There was a time...” Marcus said under his breath.
“I would say you’re the one risking it,” Mrs. Higginbotham pointed out. “You can’t expect her to totally upend her life simply to save yours. And you have thus far. It’s unreasonable and arrogant of you.” She paused. “And your uncle, as well.”
“Men.” Lady Blodgett huffed.
James aimed a hard look at the ladies. “Does she plan to be back within fourteen days?”
“She didn’t say. I had the distinct feeling she hasn’t decided.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore’s brow furrowed. “But she did mention she might go on to Florence and Athens after Paris. In which case, no. I would think she wouldn’t return within fourteen days.”
“What are you going to do?” Marcus asked James.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“I believe she gave you three choices,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said.
James thought for a moment. He didn’t like this one bit. And there was something about her itinerary—Paris and Florence and Athens—that seemed significant, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Choice number two, then,” James said in a hard tone. “I’m going to follow her.”
“Excellent, my lord. So much better than accompanying her, really. This way, your appearance will be a surprise, as if you’ve had a change of heart. Women do like it when men come to their senses.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore beamed. “We knew you’d do the right thing.”
“I’ve been trying to do the right thing since this all began,” James said sharply. “I’ve done my best to be thoughtful and gallant and the perfect bloody husband.”
“And it’s been hardly any effort at all for you.” Lady Blodgett’s voice sharpened. “At some point you are going to have to decide what is more important to you—your inheritance or your wife. And what you are willing to sacrifice to get it.”
“You may be right, Lady Blodgett.” He glanced at Marcus. “I too have arrangements to make. I can leave tomorrow.”
“We can leave tomorrow. Mrs. Ryland is going, you’ll no doubt need assistance or at least a friendly face. And I have been to Paris more recently than you have. Ladies.” Marcus turned to the trio. “Do you intend to go, as well?”
The ladies traded glances. Lady Blodgett sighed. “As much as we would like nothing better, I’m afraid we have...pressing concerns that prohibit our accompanying you.”
Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore wrinkled her nose. “Financial concerns.”
Marcus nodded. “Then as you will not be able to oversee Lord and Lady Ellsworth’s adherence to the conditions of the will, might I offer to accompany them as your representative and that of my firm?”
“Excellent idea, Mr. Davies.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore brightened. “We will expect you to keep us apprised of, well, everything.”
“Dispatches on a regular basis.” Mrs. Higginbotham pinned Marcus with a no-nonsense look. “Telegrams will do.”
“Ladies,” James said, “Mr. Davies and I have much to discuss. If you’ll forgive me, I’ll have Andrews see you out.”
All three ladies rose to their feet.
Lady Blodgett led the way to the door. “We wish you all the best, my lord.”
“Do have a pleasant trip,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said as she passed by. “Paris is lovely this time of year.”
“Women love sacrifice almost as much as they love men admitting they were wrong,” Mrs. Higginbotham added. “Try not to muck it up.”
James turned the trio over to Andrews and he and Marcus adjourned to the library. James promptly poured them each a glass of whiskey.
“Do you really have arrangements to make or are you simply trying to make a point?”
“Both.” He tossed back a healthy swallow. “I’ll not do everything she wants at the snap of her fingers. Besides, I can’t simply up and leave London on a moment’s notice.”
“She is the one in control of the situation.”
“She has as much to lose as I.”
“Not exactly.” Marcus sipped his drink. “It appears your wife has money.”
“Of course she has money. My money.” James huffed. “She’s spent it all over Europe for the past six years. She’s probably planning how to spend it in Paris even as we speak.”
“No, I mean she has her own money. I finally figured it out this morning. From what I’ve been able to determine, your uncle set up a trust of sorts for her on the day before you were married.” Marcus paused. “Do you recall signing something before your wedding that stipulated any property or funds she brought to the marriage would remain hers and hers alone?”
“I signed all sorts of things.” He frowned. “Uncle Richard did that?”
“The earl probably meant it to be something for her to fall back on should things between you become difficult in the future.”
“You mean if I turned out to be a true scoundrel?” It was a bothersome thought, although he really couldn’t blame Uncle Richard for trying to protect Violet. At least she would not be penniless if they failed to meet the terms of the will.
“A precaution, James, nothing more than that.” Marcus offered a supportive smile. “However, it seems that through clever management and investment, that initial amount has become a decent fortune. The account is managed in Paris by a Comte de Viviers.”
James drew his brows together. “She never said a word.”
Marcus sipped his drink. “Are you going to tell her you know about this?”
“Not for the moment.” He considered this new revelation for a moment. “But I do find it interesting.”
“Secret funds are always interesting.”
“Better than that. This means she didn’t have to go along with Uncle’s Richard’s will. She’s doing it because she wants to.”
“Or because it was your uncle’s last wish, and she was very fond of him.”
“Or very fond of me.” James grinned. “This means there’s hope.”
“She didn’t seem very fond of you a few minutes ago.”
James waved off the comment. “A minor misunderstanding. This entire thing—traveling to Paris and wherever else she plans to go—is only because she’s annoyed with me.”
“My, you are optimistic. She seemed far more than annoyed.”
“I kissed her last night.” James chuckled. “And she kissed me back.”
“You may be overestimating the impact of your kiss.” Marcus studied him. “Don’t you see an odd parallel here? It was an ill-advised kiss at another engagement party that started all of this.”
“Last night’s kiss was not the least bit ill-advised.”
“You’re sounding a bit smug, you know.”
“Marcus, things are looking up. Oh, certainly, Violet is leading me on a chase to Paris and God knows where else. She wants me to prove something to her, work for what I want and I have every intention of doing do. Beyond that, the more time I spend with her, the better she’ll know me and the more likely she is to forgive me for the past. See me for who I am now. Maybe even trust me.”
“I’m not sure it’s a good plan, but it is better than nothing.”
“Pack your bags, my friend.” James raised his glass. “We’re going to Paris.”
“DO YOU THINK we did the right thing?” Poppy frowned.
“Encouraging Violet to leave London, you mean?” Gwen asked. Poppy nodded. “Well, I’m not sure it was the wrong thing, exactly.”
“The woman had already made up her mind,” Effie pointed out. “She was simply looking for us to support her decision. Besides, James does need to put forth a certain amount of effort if he wants her for more than his inheritance.”
“Do you think he does?” Poppy asked.
“Richard thought he did.” Effie thoug
ht for a moment. “He certainly has been acting like he does. But Violet needs to know whether or not it is indeed an act to keep her content and adhering to the conditions of the will or something more significant. Being in close quarters, away from London, will no doubt tell her what she needs to know.”
“Beyond that, it seems to me they scarcely know each other at all at this point if indeed they ever did,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “My dear Charles used to say there was no better way to get to know a man than by taking him on an expedition.”
“Perhaps we should accompany them to Paris?” A wistful note sounded in Poppy’s voice.
Effie shook her head. “I do not intend to squander the money I’ve been allotted for this venture on a trip to Paris.” She paused. “No matter how tempting it sounds.”
“And it is tempting,” Gwen murmured.
“I remember Paris.” Poppy sighed. “It’s a most romantic city. Something about the French...”
“Romance is certainly called for. Although...” Gwen considered the matter. “I think James may well already be in love with her. Possibly has been for years. There’s something in the way he looks at her...”
“Regardless of what Violet says,” Effie said, choosing her words with care, “I suspect those feelings she had for James never really vanished.”
Poppy’s brow furrowed. “Then you do think this is a test on Violet’s part?”
“No,” Effie said. “I think it’s a test for both of them.”
PART TWO
Paris, Florence, Athens
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JAMES BRACED HIS hands on the ornate iron railing of the balcony off his room in the Grand Hotel and gazed at the streets of Paris below him, gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. This was not his first stay in the French capital, but his previous visit had been part of a grand tour and his memories were indistinct and blurred by time and overindulgence. And the revolting tendency of his stomach to rebel at being on water or confined for too long to a train. At the time, he had attributed it to the fact that he and his friends were rarely sober. Today’s crossing proved that theory wrong. If he recalled correctly, sleep helped ease his distress. Perhaps he could purchase some sleeping powders to make it through the rest of this trip.
The last time he had visited Europe he had been in the company of a group of friends: like-minded young men who had been far more interested in the entertainments of Paris—and everywhere else—than the cultural and historic offerings. They’d had little interest in enrichment of the mind, but it had been a great deal of fun. Fun of any kind was the last thing he expected on this trip.
The optimism he’d felt yesterday had dimmed considerably, thanks to an unpleasant channel crossing spent mostly leaning over the railing of the ferry and his realization as to the true purpose of Violet’s trip. When Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore had mentioned Violet might continue on from Paris to Florence and then Athens, something had nagged at the back of his mind. Somewhere during the train trip to Dover, the ferry across the channel and the final train into Paris, the pieces came together and the elusive answer he hadn’t quite been able to put his finger on became crystal-clear.
A knock sounded at his door and it opened before he could respond. He glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to wait until someone tells you to come in before entering a room?”
“The door was unlocked.” Marcus strode into the room. “Somewhat foolish in a hotel. One never knows who might wander in.”
“Apparently.”
“Feeling better?” Marcus asked.
“Much.” Going straight from the ferry to a train had not helped, but another hour and the last lingering effects of mal de mer should be completely gone.
“Well, you’re no longer green.” Marcus joined him on the balcony. “Is this why you don’t like travel?”
“If you spent every minute onboard a ship retching over the railing, would you?” James grimaced. “Lengthy train travel, especially in mountainous areas, is nearly as bad. Sleep is the only thing that helps.” He glanced at his friend. “I’d prefer you didn’t mention this to anyone. It’s rather embarrassing.”
“If you insist, but eventually someone might notice.” He regarded his friend curiously. “So, are you appreciating the sights of Paris or are you still sulking?”
“I don’t sulk,” James said in a sharper tone than might be expected from someone who was not sulking.
“My apologies,” Marcus said. “Obviously I mistook your constant muttering, disgruntled sighs and snorts of indignation for sulking.”
“I simply had a great deal on my mind.” James shrugged. “I finally figured out what she’s doing.”
“Did you?”
“Think about it for a minute.” James had stopped by his club yesterday evening and had run into Welles in passing. They’d chatted briefly about nothing in particular but there was a knowing look on his old friend’s face when James had mentioned Violet’s possible itinerary. He’d paid no attention to it at the time—his mind was far too preoccupied getting his affairs in order. Who knew how long he’d be away and if Violet intended to flit around Europe, he intended to be right by her side. He still wasn’t sure what she wanted him to prove, but this was a challenge he did not intend to fail.
It wasn’t until he watched the English countryside pass by today on the way to Dover that the answer took shape. At first, he thought the idea was absurd. Now, he was convinced he was right. “What do Paris, Florence and Athens have in common?”
“They’re in Europe?” Marcus said cautiously.
“Beyond that.” He turned toward his friend. “Consider the rumors that have circulated about Violet in the past six years.”
“All right.” Marcus thought for a moment. “Sorry, old man, I’ve got nothing.”
“A French count, an Italian sculptor and a Greek poet.” James’s jaw clenched. “All reputed to be Violet’s—” he nearly choked on the word “—lovers.”
Marcus snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.” The more he thought about it the more sense it made. “She admitted this trip was a test. What better way to determine if I have indeed changed, if I am willing to leave the past behind, than by flaunting her past in my face. What better way to make me pay for all my mistakes?”
Marcus laughed. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Or the most diabolically brilliant.”
Marcus shook his head. “Violet does not strike me as the kind of woman who would do something like that.”
“Anger does things to a woman, Marcus,” James said darkly. “Revenge is the very least of it.” He drew a deep breath. “Apparently she’s been angry at me for six years. She said I had failed to fight for her. This is her way of giving me the opportunity to do just that.”
“Not to throw a bit of rationality into the convoluted case you have so wildly constructed, but Comte de Viviers is the man who manages her fortune.”
“And who is more trustworthy to handle finances for a woman than a lover?”
“He was apparently a friend of your uncle’s,” Marcus said mildly.
“Women love older, rich, titled men.” His eyes narrowed. “Especially if they’re foreign. Women swoon for men with accents.”
“He’s not foreign here. We are.”
“Maybe I can use that to my advantage.”
Marcus laughed. “I think you were right when you said Violet was trying to drive you mad. I believe she’s succeeded.”
“I can’t disagree with you there.” He glanced at his friend. “I am ready to fight for her, you know.”
“Come to that conclusion, have you?”
“It’s been two months. But I think I knew the first day. That’s why I had to tell her the truth.”
“The truth?” Marcus said slowly. “Yesterday, you were
quite confident that you and Violet were going to make a go of this. But you said there had been a minor disagreement. It wasn’t minor, was it?”
James drew a deep breath. “I told her that when I kissed her six years ago—”
Marcus nodded. “Thus ending your engagement to Miss Fredericks.”
“It wasn’t an accident.” He grimaced. “I knew full well it was Violet on that terrace.”
Marcus stared. “You kissed her deliberately?”
“I’m afraid so.”
The solicitor choked back a laugh. “That explains why she’s so angry.”
“I’m glad you find this amusing.”
“It’s hard not to.”
“Admittedly, it might have been a mistake to tell her the truth, at least now. She might have taken it better if I’d waited another year or two. Or ten.”
“Honesty will do you in every time, you know.” Marcus grinned then sobered. “Which makes what I need to say now more than a little awkward. I was going over your uncle’s will again last night, to see if there were any specific references to Violet’s trust—there weren’t, by the way. But I stumbled over a clause cleverly hidden in a portion of the will I had not examined as thoroughly as the stipulations.”
“Oh?”
“It provides a way to end the conditions of the will.” Marcus drew a deep breath. “You would receive everything and you and Violet could resume your lives as you see fit.”
James studied his friend. “There’s a trick, isn’t there?”
“Not really.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think it’s wise to inform you about this clause.”
“Why not?”
Marcus drew his brows together. “If things turn out the way you hope they will with Violet and she ever finds out about this, and finds out that you were aware of it, your actions will be suspect. Trust me on this, James.”
The idea of getting out from under the stipulations of the will—while appealing—also meant Violet would not be compelled to stay with him. That wouldn’t do. If he was going to win her heart, it was obviously going to take longer than he expected. He might well need the entire two years and however many months.
The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After Page 18
