* * * *
There was a knock at the door. Violet did not want to answer, but Miriam went ahead and opened it. From her bed she could see the duchess standing in the doorway, her hair in loose curls, wearing a periwinkle blue dressing gown made of satin brocade.
“Violet?” The voice, soft as a will-o’-the-wisp swaying in the breeze, startled her. She sat up in bed, setting down another handkerchief in the pile beside the pillow.
“Yes, Isabella?”
“May I come in and join you?”
Violet nodded and gestured for her guest to come inside. Bella came and sat on the bed and took her hand.
“I heard that Danny left this morning.”
“Yes.”
Elegant fingers stroked her hand in slow circles. “I apologize for yesterday. It was most unseemly.” Bella sighed. “Kit and I bring out the worst in one another sometimes. He will calm down in a few days, as he always does.”
Violet nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Danny and Papa had a hard time when my mother died. They could not cope very well without her and I was never quite enough to fill that void. Papa sunk himself into women and cards and when he was sober, he’d make ill-conceived attempts at finding me a husband.” As she spoke, each word was measured. “Danny thinks I do not know about our father, but I am six years older than my brother. I was old enough to know what he was doing.”
Why was Bella telling her this? They both knew Kit was troubled and that his pain started long ago, upon the death of his parents.
“My aunt looked after us. She was stern, but she devoted what energy she had to us until she took ill. By the time father died, I was eighteen and ready to marry. Kit was still a boy, though growing into manhood. I looked at his wild antics and I panicked. I feared he would become the same as my father, which even Papa had not wanted. I pushed and pushed until Danny became exactly what I was afraid of.”
Violet thought of herself at eighteen, a new bride, wanting to be the perfect wife. She could easily imagine Bella’s driving need to become the perfect sister, the perfect surrogate mother.
“Danny and I come from a long line of obstinate and autocratic lords and ladies. We are creatures of habit. I cannot stop smothering him and he cannot stop running as fast as he can to get from under my thumb. He loves me, so he always comes back.” Bella winked at her. “Though good sense should tell him that I am more stubborn than he, so he should give up fighting me.”
That made Violet chuckle. A hiccup took over her body and Bella gave her a smack on the back. “I do not want you to worry that this row will cause a rift between me and Danny.” Her head fell and her voice grew soft. “I know I need to let him go free, to trust that he will make good choices. It is just hard to see him throw his life away.”
Violet squeezed her hand. “Kit loves a thrill. He loves to push himself to his limits—” she blushed as she continued, “—and push other people, too. But he is not so reckless as you believe. He tests boundaries, but he always knows what those boundaries are. If he were as bad as you seem to think he is, he would have run off to India or America where he could live a hedonistic life free of all family ties.”
She knew that Kit could do it, would do it, if he wanted to. But he loved Bella, so he would not leave her, despite how crazy she made him.
“Freddy said much the same to me last year after Kit and I had a similar row.” Bella’s hands took her shoulders and gave a light caress. “Maybe you are right. I only wish Kit would find a good wife to take care of him, to keep him from excess. Perhaps if he’d met you a few years ago…”
“What do you mean?” Why would Kit have considered her as a bride when he could have any eligible countess or baroness on the Continent? What woman wouldn’t throw herself at a young, handsome marquess with a body made to be worshipped?
“I have only known you for a day, but it is quite clear to me that you are in love with my brother. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he follows every word from your lips. He has never been so attentive to any of the heiresses I have introduced to him, believe me. No matter what I do, he refuses to take a wife.”
Did Kit care for her after all? Did she mean more to him than a diversion? What if he loved her as much as she loved him? She’d been quick to assume that he hadn’t meant it when he’d told her he loved her.
“He has never shown interest in anyone before? Are you certain?”
There was a knock at the door. They looked up to see Miriam again. “His Grace is awake and wishes to inquire after Your Grace and my lady.”
It was decidedly improper for the duke to see her in dishabille, but the whole situation was a big mess already. What harm would there be at this point? “Tell his grace we shall promptly meet him in the drawing room.”
“We might as well continue this conversation downstairs. If anyone knows Daniel, it is my husband.” After wiping her face, she got out of bed and put on her slippers. They went down to the drawing room, where a fire had been lit to stave off the chill.
To Violet’s surprise, the duke was already dressed for the day. He wore a green wool jacket, pale trousers, and polished hessians. With his golden looks and well-formed physique, he looked like a fashion plate brought to life.
“Good morning, ladies.” He bowed.
“Good morning.” Violet settled on a seat close to the fire, while the duke and duchess took a settee across from her.
“I am sorry that Kittrick left so abruptly. He has a wealth of patience at cards, but when it comes to Bella, he is thrifty. But I do hope that he has not discomfited you with his lack of courtesy.”
Violet was not surprised when Bella blurted out, “I think Danny is the one who is discomfited. He has never been in love before and I think that frightens him even more than my constant meddling.”
He seemed to ponder that for a bit.
“What I do not understand is why you think that he is in love with me,” Violet interjected.
Freddy’s slow smile warmed her skin, easing the ache in her chest. “If Kit wasn’t fascinated with you, he would have left as soon as he was fit to walk. The fact that he stayed here for weeks, that even when he was well enough to ride out, he wrote to tell me not to expect him until Christmas speaks to his affection.”
Was he so rash? It was hard to reconcile this Kit with the man she knew. Of course he’d resisted being confined to one room, but he’d never displayed a desire to run out at the first opportunity.
“Does he always run?” she asked.
Blond curls bounced as Freddy shook his head. “It is not running. Kit thrives on adventure. He goes wherever he thinks he shall find it. If he enjoys himself, he can be quite patient, as I said.” His blue eyes stared into hers. “I think you are a challenge for him.”
Why would he say that? “I do not understand. I have done nothing to thwart his plans. Yes, I kept him confined to his room on the doctor’s orders, but other than that, I have made no restriction to his behavior.”
He bit back a grin. “What did you do to get him to stay confined?”
With her cheeks burning as hot as the fire in the hearth, Violet looked away. Then, sheepishly, she mumbled. “I think one could argue that it was the marquess who bargained for an incentive to remain in his quarters.”
The duke’s tone changed. “My wife thinks you are in love with Kittrick. Are you?”
Their stares made Violet squirm in her seat. Her fingers fidgeted with the arm of her chair. A silent pause filled the air. Should she confess what she’d never said aloud? It was obvious to her staff, to the duke and duchess. Was it obvious to Kit as well?
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper, but she was heard.
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“What did he say to you when he left?” While the duke’s tone was soft, his gaze was not. It surprised her because Freddy seemed like the amiable, gentle one, but he commanded her as easily as Kit and Bella.
�
�Last night he’d drank half a decanter of brandy. He said he loved me, but I thought it merely an enticement to convince me to side with him. He gave no indication that he could be serious. His tone, his demeanor all suggested otherwise.”
“May I speak freely, madam?”
Violet was afraid of what he might say. The truth about Kit was unraveling around her and it was not what she’d expected.
“Kittrick is not a man who would ever say such a thing in jest. And if he uttered those words to you and you did not return the sentiment, he would assume that there was no reason for him to stay. He did not leave because of the argument with Bella, however much that might have vexed him. Kit left because of you.”
Her fingers dug into the wood, leaving marks. Was it true? Was his childish behavior due to the fact that he was afraid to admit his feelings to her? Obviously his father had not presented a good example for how to behave with women, and if he’d spent most of his life in conflict with the only woman in his life—Bella—how would he know how to handle such an important confession?
“I assumed that he was immature, spoiled, and angry because I would not let him blame Isabella for his own choices.”
Freddy smiled. “Which may still be true. But he is also a man who has never allowed himself to have tender feelings for a woman beyond the bedchamber. The marquess is used to winning—cards, women, whatever he wants. Maybe he could not handle the fact that he loved you and believed you did not love him back.”
It made sense to her now. Though he’d behaved like an imbecile, it did not mean that his feelings were disingenuous. She sat silently for a moment and processed the truth. Kit was in love with her.
She had no title, no inheritance to offer him. And no desire to be his mistress. So where did that leave them? Could she consent to be his lover for as long as that would last? Or would it be better to let him go and hope that he would one day forgive her for rejecting his feelings?
Dropping her head into her hands, Violet let the tears flow.
“Come now,” Freddy said, coming to kneel beside her and take her hand. “Do not be so hard on yourself.”
Through the well of tears, she looked at his kind face. “Even if I go to him and apologize, even if I confess my love, what good would it do? He has no wish to marry and even if he did, I have no title, no grand estates, no large sum to offer him. I live comfortably, but I cannot compete with countesses and duchesses. And I could not respect myself if I sacrificed my dignity to become his mistress. If I did, the day would inevitably come when he would have to take a wife and I could not bear to watch him with another woman, watch her raise his children.”
Violet was practical. She knew what being his mistress would mean. As much as she loved him, that road would lead to a torture that she could not suffer.
Bella came and lifted her chin. “You are such a silly goose, Violet!”
Violet blinked and stared at the other woman, who had a big grin on her face. “What?”
“You were very clever to knock my brother from his tower of self-indulgence, but you are not being very smart at the moment.”
She waited for the duchess to explain.
“I will admit that I hoped he would pick a wealthy lady of his station, but my brother has never been one for following the dictates of society. He would marry a cobbler’s daughter if he wanted to, my wishes be damned. The idea that you are too far beneath him is ridiculous.”
“Violet,” Freddy intervened, “You have a fine house. You are a gentlewoman. While you do not have a grand inheritance, why would you think that you are not good enough for Kit to marry?”
She looked into their concerned faces, surprised at their willingness to think of her as a worthy sister-in-law. “The poor marry for love,” she said. It was something her mother had said over and over to her when she was young. She did not want Violet to take after Miriam’s mother for some foolish romantic notion.
“True enough,” Freddy said. “But so do we.” The heated look he gave Bella made the duchess blush. He rose to a stand, taking Bella’s hand in his. “You have made an assumption about what Kittrick desires. Maybe you should ask him before jumping to conclusions as my wife does.” He winked.
“But how can I do that? I do not know where he is.”
“Surely he arranged to have his things delivered somewhere.”
Avery! Kit said he would leave Avery with instructions to forward his belongings.
Violet squeezed each of their hands. “Yes, he did.” She hopped up and went to the bell pull. She went to peer down the hallway to see who was coming. Was there still time to catch Kit and bring him home?
Chapter Fourteen
The next week, Violet and Bella sat in the drawing room, sewing. Freddy had offered to travel out to Yorkshire to see if he could retrieve Kit. Violet wanted to go with him, but the Havenhursts insisted that she stay. Every day that passed, she watched the grey and white winter outside her window, hoping to see the glimpse of a carriage or hear the sound of a team of horses.
“Could something have happened to Kit?” Violet asked. “Surely they should have returned by now.”
“Maybe they were trapped by a storm. Or maybe my brother is being hard-headed. Do not worry. They will return.”
Violet looked down at the cotton shirt in her hands. She was nearly done with the cuff. It was something she’d started for Kit, but now she wondered if she’d ever see him again. Maybe he was still too angry to come home.
“I should have gone with the duke.”
“No. Let Freddy find him. And if he doesn’t, you can come home with us. Eventually Kit will return to Oakfield.”
Bella sat with the red velvet dress, putting gold trim on the hem and sleeves. The thick fabric spilled over the sofa and rippled over the carpet. Would Kit even get to see the dress he had helped her pick out? He’d chosen the design, though Bella had picked the fabric.
As Violet stitched, she imagined the sound of a carriage and horses, imagined Kit’s voice calling her name. When she looked back at the window, all she saw was rivulets of rain sliding down the glass.
Bella turned the dress over, lined up the trim and continued sewing. “If the boys do not arrive in the next three days, we shall have to travel on to Oakfield without them.”
Where were they?
Two hours later, Violet and Bella were sitting at the pianoforte, playing a carol. Bella’s slender fingers danced across the keys as Violet sang. “In fields where they lay, keeping their sheep, on a cold winter’s night—” Loud voices shouted outside and she heard the sound of a carriage coming up the drive.
“Freddy,” Bella cried as Violet called out, “Kit.” They both got up and ran across the soft carpet to the hardwood floors and out into the hallway. Downstairs, Avery opened the door and shouted directions to the footmen.
Violet had reached the landing in the middle of the staircase when a wet and disheveled Freddy walked through the door. He gave her a short bow and looked past her to the duchess.
Bella ran down the stairs and hugged him. Violet looked away as they shared a kiss. “Where is Daniel?”
“He wasn’t with Stewart. I went to the Hog’s Head Inn and Tavern, where he and I had stayed once before, hoping that maybe he had taken a meal there or spent the night when the roads were too dark and wet, but the owner has not seen him. I made it to Yorkshire and Stewart hasn’t seen him, but was relieved to know that Kit was well and that we’d found him. I did not find him on the main roads. I tried a few other taverns, but I have no idea where he is.”
Oh, God. He could be hurt. Maybe the headaches had returned or he’d somehow fallen and reopened his wounds. “I have to go. He could be sick and injured. He might be dying on the road somewhere.”
“There is another possibility,” Freddy said. “Kit may have assumed that Bella would send someone after him. Maybe he went somewhere else altogether.”
Bella clutched Freddy’s greatcoat. “Do you think he’s gone to Essex? Or maybe
to London? He wouldn’t travel out to the Hebrides in this clime, would he?”
“There is still Dover. Or, he may have even gone to Oakfield, anticipating that we’d stay with Violet rather than return home.”
As they discussed the possibilities, Violet went over to Avery. “He is missing. He likely does not want to be found. Where would you go in such a situation?”
“London, madam. A man may be lost in the stews and taverns with ease. As long as he stayed away from the finer establishments, he might not be recognized.”
Though she wasn’t sure Kit would frequent the kind of places Avery meant, it would be harder to spot Kit in a bustling city. It definitely sounded logical. The question was, would he remain there until Christmas or would he go to Oakfield as he’d originally promised?
“Frederick,” Violet interrupted. “Kit has gone to London. Do you know where he would stay? Would he go to his townhouse or would he stay somewhere out of sight?”
“He favors the townhouse, but if he is not there, I think I know where he might be.”
Please let him be there. She hoped that Avery wasn’t right about him numbing himself with some prostitute in a brothel. She couldn’t see him with the unwashed and uneducated trollops that would work in the stews, but London was home to all manner of bawdy houses. There were private clubs with elegant drawing rooms where women of ill repute would see to the dark fantasies of a gentleman like Kit.
“If he’s taken up with whores in a den of iniquity, I do not wish to know,” Violet said. “Take me to the hells where the dice roll and the cards are marked, but I will not go if he’s in the bed of some harlot.”
The duke grinned. “No, I do not think we will find him rutting in a brothel. But we may find him bruised and ill-used.”
A Marquess for Christmas Page 18
