by Gay, Gloria
"He is an attractive man, but so is his nephew, and Jared is closer to my age."
"Is something the matter?" asked Violet, concerned for Galena, for Galena had suddenly turned very pale and her step had faltered.
"I—perhaps I should sit in that bench for a minute."
"Yes, let me help you, Galena." Violet, directed Galena to the bench.
"I suppose the walk was a bit long for me," said Galena, "I usually don’t walk so far."
"Just sit still and don't talk, Galena, so that you may calm yourself and rest. It is a beautiful day and sitting here in silence will be very soothing to you. See how that bed of lilies flutters in the wind and those banks of gladioli are a burst of color."
"I believe I’m all right now," said Galena. "Let’s go back to the castle, for Mama will be worried about me."
Later that night she told her mother how Violet blabbed on like an idiot about flowers and such, and that she couldn’t understand what the duke saw in her when she was of a lowly background.
The subject of the castle brought to her mind the yearning to possess both the castle and the title of duchess that daily fed on her soul, to the point where she sometimes wanted to scream. She saw that Violet made great headway with the duke while the few dances Galena was able to procure had been done with maneuvering and subterfuge.
Such a sudden rage coursed through her that her mother, usually vague about others, noticed it.
"What is it, dear, has that girl upset you? She does seem to take up all of the duke’s attention. She is a lovely creature, indeed.”
"Just be quiet, Mama, you are spewing nonsense, as usual." The thought of Violet's beauty made Galena suddenly sick to her stomach, for it was a beauty she could never hope to equal.
* * *
Violet went up to see her mother and was glad to find her in better spirits. Though her cold had not improved, still she seemed serene and rested. Sadie had found happiness late in life and held it close to her bosom. That Lord Kelly and her mother had finally found each other again was almost a miracle to Violet.
She would be very lucky if she could find a man with whom she could feel as happy as her mother and father were with each other.
"Annie has your gown spread out on your bed for you, my dear. I believe she is just as excited about this ball as anyone is. And Maribel is anxious to start helping you with your hair as it will take at least an hour. I believe you should allow her to start now, for it is getting late. The afternoon is waning."
Was it possible to be happy and sad about a ball at the same time? Perhaps it was, thought Violet, as Maribel worked on her hair.
Violet closed her eyes. She always thought better with her eyes closed and she felt a need to examine something else. She wondered why it was that she felt an underlying menace, a feeling of impending doom.
Something was lurking. Aunt Bea had hit it right on the head when she spoke of it. She feared a man, yet would not name him. Which man? Did she mean Souten?
"Is Aunt Bea in her room, Maribel?"
"Yes, Miss Violet. She's there and said she'd be right back here as soon as Annie finishes her hair."
"Good," said Violet sighing audibly. "I want to see how her new dress looks on her."
"That dress is new material, mum, but it ain't new."
"Yes, Maribel, I know. Aunt Bea insists on issues of La Belle Assemblée when the plates were first started, many years ago. But the dress is new to her, and that's what's important. For her sake we must make believe it is in fashion. Actually it is in fashion, just not the current fashion. So please, be kind and admire it without judging it, Maribel."
"I will do that, Miss Violet," said the outspoken Maribel, "I'm just glad you don't take to such notions yourself, else I'd really go cuckoo."
"I may be just as eccentric as Aunt Bea in my old age, Maribel, for we are related by blood; just be thankful you'll probably be long gone and with your own family by then," laughed Violet.
Maribel was silent after that, concentrating on the hairstyle Violet had chosen and at which Maribel was very adept.
Again Violet returned to her disturbing thoughts. Why did she feel this underlying menace in this beautiful castle that was a place of tranquility and beauty?
* * *
Violet looked down from the top of the great crescent staircase. She wished her mother had been able to attend, for she suddenly felt a chill go through her. She remembered her mother saying a few days before that she had felt as though someone was walking over her grave. Violet suddenly felt that a shadow had glanced across her, right there in the middle of a glittering ballroom that was so vast she could not see its end.
Her dance with Souten was coming up. She remembered that she had made a decision to concentrate her attention on the person she was dancing with at the moment and to not seek out with her eyes the place where the duke was at each moment of the night.
This, she believed, would start her off on the road to recovery. She must recover from having allowed her heart to foolishly stumble around in places where it was forbidden.
Hawk had given ample proof that carte blanche was all he would offer her. And not only that, Violet believed he was certain that with continued insistence he would erode her defenses and in the end she would comply.
She saw this tableau down the road: she became Hawk's mistress. At first he was all that an ardent lover should be, giving her his love and devotion and hours and hours of his time. Then the years would go by. For the lucky ones it was six or seven years and even ten, but for others it was a few months to two or three years and then the conge, that dreadful word she had learned firsthand, from her mother's ended liaisons.
In such a way her mother's liaison with Lord Kelly had ended. It was only through a miracle she hardly understood that many years later they had again reconnected and found they could not be apart from each other.
She recalled how Lord Kelly and her mother had run into each other a few times during the intervening years. There had been a tension in those meetings that she had felt, even as a child. At the age of five she had been introduced briefly to him at a park. Lord Kelly had expressed to her and Sadie that Violet was a little beauty and Violet had smiled as Lord Kelly had put his hand under her chin and tilted her head upward. She had looked into the kind man's eyes and liked him. Thereafter, she would sometimes ask her mother if they were going to see the kind man in the park and her mother would tell her to hush, that there was no likelihood of that.
Afterward, Violet understood why her mother became tense and unhappy after each of those few encounters with Lord Kelly. Her mother had fallen in love with him and when he realized his feelings for Sadie were the same as hers, he cut off the relationship with her.
Through the years, when they met by chance, with little Violet between them, they realized sadly that the love they felt for each other had not abated. When Lord Kelly asked how old Violet was sure Sadie had subtracted one year from Violet's age, so that he would not suspect the truth, that Violet was his daughter.
Then God had smiled on all of them.
Violet would not be so lucky if she agreed to a liaison with the duke. Her mother’s kind of luck did not come around too often. And unlike her mother’s story, Violet’s would be a sad one without a happy ending. She would be discarded after a few years and she would be laughed at by the ton and be unable to ever again look her father in the eye. Lord Kelly would never say a word to her about it, but in her heart Violet would know she had failed him.
They would say she had acted true to her nature.
That was the price she would have to pay for a few years with Hawk, a price that was much too dear.
"Dear Violet, should we not start down the steps," said Lady Bea, interrupting Violet’s sad thoughts.
Violet realized her bleak thoughts had made her halt at the top of the stairs as she gazed at the future she would have if she accepted Hawk’s offer.
"Yes, let’s go down, Aunt Bea," she said, as
she took the old lady lovingly by the arm.
Souten halted their progress at the receiving line as he grabbed Violet's hand. He looked admiringly at her while Lady Bea stared at him, annoyed.
"You look simply adorable, Miss Durbin. I don't believe I have ever seen anyone as enchanting as you in all my life."
Violet was amazed that common words, when uttered by Souten, always seemed full of hidden meanings.
A few minutes later, Souten came by again, to claim his waltz with Violet.
"The ballroom looks enchanting," said Violet without looking at him, as she pulled her hand away from his, for again he had made a grab for it as he led her to the ballroom.
"I’m sorry this is our last night at the castle, Miss Durbin," Souten said, uncomfortably near her ear, "for it means this beautiful sojourn in your company comes to an end."
"All things end, eventually," said Violet as she glanced around the ballroom even though she had promised herself she would not look for Hawk.
He was standing by the wall and he was gazing at her. Violet felt a surge of blissful satisfaction that he was not looking at another woman.
She realized how the rest of her life would be without him: a series of longings and regrets, suppression of her emotions and sudden surges of feelings, where she would have to practice monk-like severity on herself in order to triumph.
Maybe she could go live in Forester Hall and never come back to London for any Season, ever again. That way she would be away from the constant temptation that Hawk was.
"You are very thoughtful, Miss Durbin," Souten intruded on her with words that meant to be enticing, yet sounded strident. She was in trouble if anyone who was not Hawk felt discordant, thought Violet.
"I was just thinking what a beautiful castle this is," she replied. She would talk of inconsequential things tonight. That way that which indeed meant a lot to her would be hidden away from the world.
"It’s a wonderful place," agreed Souten, "But it is not the only place of beauty in these parts. I wish you would allow me to show you my estate, Malva Hall. I’m certain you would love it. It has been described by many who have visited as a place of beauty and retreat."
When the waltz was over Souten walked her back to where Lady Bea sat with the chaperones.
As she sat on her chair, Souten still hovered about. Aunt Bea leaned toward Violet.
"Excuse, me, my lord," said Violet, "I must attend to Lady Bea."
"Certainly, I shall await your pleasure, Miss Durbin," said Souten.
"That's the man I told you about—the dark man with the strange eyes," Lady Bea whispered fiercely into Violet's ear. "I cannot be too near him, for he fills me with fear."
"Please, Bea," said Violet, alarmed, "Don’t make a commotion about it because people will notice and then we will have to leave the ball. You wouldn't want to leave a ball that you prepared so carefully for and for which you obtained this lovely ball gown, now would you?"
"Well, no," said Bea, but the fear was still in her eyes as she avoided looking at Souten, "But how can I pretend he's not here?" Her voice had risen.
"Just not look at him, Bea."
Bea rose. "He was walking in the corridors last night, with a black wine bottle."
"Sit down, Bea, please."
"All right,” Bea said, “but I don’t like it one bit."
After a few minutes, Violet settled Lady Bea with Bea’s best friend, a lady that always had a calming effect on her. She remained with them until the two old ladies became immersed in a conversation about clothes. Violet then told Bea she would return shortly with lemonade for her.
Bea nodded but Violet saw that she glanced furtively and fearfully at Souten. She realized Bea’s fear of Souten was real and intense.
Lord Souten waited until Violet was free and accompanied her to obtain the lemonade for Lady Bea.
"You were talking to me about your estate, Malva Hall, my lord," said Violet, trying to pretend everything was all right. Lady Bea had transmitted to Violet her deep fear of Souten. She was shaken by Lady Bea's fears and her fierce whispers concerning Souten but she couldn’t let Souten suspect it.
"It's within view of the ocean and views of the ocean are to be had from all the windows on its southern side," said Souten,"It sounds very appealing.”
“A view of water is always refreshing."
"There is also a duck pond in the gardens and a stream in the wood nearby. I would be honored if you and your family would spend some time at the estate at my invitation, Miss Durbin. Could we perhaps set a date for that?"
"Let us talk some more about your estate, sir, I cannot at the moment commit to anything. Mama, is not feeling well and has not yet recovered from her cold. Do you ride?"
"Yes, I do," said Souten, and Violet realized that Souten was extremely nervous. Too nervous for a ball, certainly. Violet had lately become aware that the man seemed even frantic in her presence and tried to disguise it. His obsessive passion was beginning to alarm her.
She was glad when Souten left them for she was becoming increasingly nervous in his company. She had almost ran back to where Lady Bea was.
"My dear, is everything all right?" asked Bea, "You look very flustered. I see that man is still lurking about. Did he threaten you?"
"No, of course he didn't threaten me. Here is the lemonade, Aunt Bea. Yes I believe I am too warm for such a cool spring day. Perhaps after you drink your lemonade you could walk with me to the terrace, to cool off."
"Yes, let’s go there, now my, dear," agreed Bea, making quick work of the lemonade.
"I’m glad you rescued me from that bothersome Mrs. Pitting,” said Bea. "The nerve of that woman, to give an opinion on my attire when it’s obvious she knows little if anything about fashion."
"What did she say?" asked Violet as she strolled down the side of the ballroom with Aunt Bea hanging from her arm, thankful for Aunt Bea's soothing chatter.
"She had an opinion on my gown and had the audacity to inform me that petticoats have not been in fashion since the Empress Josephine discarded hers years ago. She said she tossed them out the window of her castle. Is that true?"
"I don't know if the Empress did just that, Aunt. Mrs. Pitting may just have been funning you. And what did you respond?"
"I reminded her that I am at least twenty years older than her, my dear, and that as such, I would have the greater knowledge as to whether petticoats were in style or not. How can a young whippersnapper like her know anything about fashion?"
"Mrs. Pitting young?" asked Violet amused, "She's fifty-five, Aunt." But she realized that to Aunt Bea, fifty-five must be considered very young still, unless she herself wanted to be considered old.
"Good evening, your grace. Have you come to claim your dance partner?" Aunt Bea asked, looking up as the duke reached them.
CHAPTER 19
Hawk’s voice shot through Violet's consciousness like lightning. Violet had been trying hard to concentrate only on Aunt Bea's words and not look anywhere except the immediate floor in front of her so she had not seen the duke come up to them.
"Yes, Lady Bea," answered Hawk, "Were you ladies heading to the terrace?"
"We were, your grace," answered her aunt.
"There is a gentleman heading this way that has been asking about you, my lady, " said the duke to Bea, "and his name is Colonel Tippen. Ah, here he is!"
Lady Bea blushed as Colonel Tippen bowed over here hand. "A beautiful gown, my lady," he said.
"You go on to the terrace with his grace, my dear," said Bea to Violet. "Colonel Tippen and I have an unfinished conversation to resume."
"Yes, Bea," said Violet happily. She knew that the Colonel would keep Bea from thinking of Souten and her strange fear of him and that the colonel who was extremely fond of Lady Bea would keep her company throughout the night. They were as two peas in a pod. Both eccentric in their own way.
"So then you wouldn't mind if I remove your niece from your company, my lady?" asked the duke.
"Has she?" asked Hawk, and felt, as Violet looked up into his eyes, that here was the woman he would like to spend the rest of his life with. The surprising thought left him a little shaken, for up until now he would not, could not ever have considered marrying a woman who had once belonged to someone else, and however by force it had been, had once been a courtesan. He could not even give complete credit to his feelings. Perhaps, by the end of the ball, he would have changed his mind; come back to his senses. He imagined the fourth duke, had he been alive, would not have been amused should Hawk have disclosed to him the alarming renderings of his mind. This thought, rather than worry him, gave him a pleasant glow of satisfaction.
Violet looked at Hawk and saw an amused twinkle in his eye as he tendered his hand toward her.
"You seem amused, your grace."
"Yes, highly amused, Miss Durbin, for until now I had not known myself. A sudden epiphany, if you will."
"A strange place for an epiphany, sir, in the middle of a ball," said Violet, and asked, "And what is it you have found in yourself that you had not known before?"
"A realization, Miss Durbin that only a blind man such as I could not see before. Has such a thing ever happened to you?"
Hawk led Violet to the dance floor and in the swirling midst of ball gowns in pastel and jewel tones and the lights from hundreds of candles they began their waltz. When Violet did not respond to his words but looked at him curiously, he added,
"I was surprised to find in myself a depth of feeling toward you, Miss Durbin, I had not known existed."
"I would not trust any feeling that unmasked itself at a ball," answered Violet, trying to hide the feelings in herself as well that threatened to surface to her face. Could she hope? No, do not hope, she told her wayward heart, for it will not be so. Epiphany or not, it is the same 'arrangement' he is describing, only with a different name.
