In her room Violetta gave way to her fears. Long used to covering her face and emotions with a carefully constructed mask, now she was desperate. It would be the ultimate test of her acting abilities. To conceal her longing for him, to enchant him and make him woo her. If he did not, she would still have something, still have a life. Not one she wanted, but one she would do her best to make tolerable. It was the end now. She had been too late, and he was promised to Lady Judith. Violetta knew Judith wouldn’t let him go now.
A knock came at the door. Violetta’s French maid, busy laying out the gown Violetta was to wear for dinner, went to answer it.
She closed the door quietly and turned to Violetta. “C’est un homme, mademoiselle.”
Violetta knew who it was, but she asked, for form’s sake. “Qui-est il?”
The door softly opened and closed. “Lord Blyth, mademoiselle.”
“Que veut-il?”
“Pour vous porter vers le bas au dîner.”
She didn’t want to be alone with him. Not yet, not until she had regained her equilibrium. “Non.”
The door opened, soft words were exchanged, and then it closed again.
Violetta stood and allowed the maid to dress her, arranging the elaborate, delicate cream silk around her as though she was a doll. Her hair was dressed, but when Lisette would have draped the powdering gown around her and led her to the powdering closet, Violetta shook her head. She would keep her dark hair, let people get accustomed to seeing it, before she powdered.
She clasped a double row of pearls around her throat and a matching set around her wrist, below the triple fall of Méchlin lace. Her fingers were clear of all rings, their long, perfectly manicured elegance decoration in themselves. So unlike the short-nailed practicality of the hands Charlotte Lambert had shown to the world.
Violetta allowed a footman to lead her downstairs to the drawing room, unwilling to allow Lord Blyth close to her. He was not waiting. She saw him as soon as she entered the room and hastily looked elsewhere. At Lord Ripley, coming forward to draw her into the room.
He made sure Orlando didn’t take her in to dinner, but she felt, actually felt, his burning gaze on her throughout the meal. He wasn’t doing as well at hiding his emotions as Violetta, but then, she was more practised at the skill. She laughed, responded to the quips and compliments, remembered not to overdo it, to display the nervousness she felt inside. She even managed to eat something.
All the while she was conscious of the steady presence of her godmother and her husband, calming her, reassuring her. Lord Ripley was there, and she knew she could go to him, if things became too hard. He would never turn away from her. This was the role she would keep, the one she would have for the rest of her life, if all went well.
If not, there was always Italy.
Chapter Nineteen
Orlando watched the lovely, charming woman and cursed himself for letting her go. He should have persisted at Richmond. He should have insisted. Now his future was set and he didn’t feel the peace he had hoped for but turmoil, and a sickening feeling that he’d made the worst mistake of his life.
He had no chance to get anywhere near Violetta until the next day. It was fine, but not too hot, so most of the guests were to be found outdoors. No specific activity was planned for the day except for an al fresco meal instead of the usual large country house breakfast. He found Violetta surrounded by beaux, including his own brother. He told himself to be cool, as cool as she appeared in fine, ice-blue silk, a simple straw bergère hat tied at a becoming angle over her shining hair. He remembered the feel of that hair in his fingers and experienced something akin to physical pain.
Putting on his smoothest smile, his charming face, he stepped forward, straight through the crowd surrounding her. Judith was absent, as was Perdita, but he only noticed in passing. “Miss Palagio, good morning.”
She turned to him, her face expressionless. “Good morning Lord…Blyth.” The slight hesitation was to demonstrate that she had to search her memory for his name. A clever touch, he acknowledged wryly.
“Would you do me the great honour of strolling in the rose garden with me? I swear, we won’t go out of sight of your assiduous duenna.” He grimaced in the direction of his mother, seated comfortably beneath the shade of a large oak tree. That raised a slight laugh from the assembled company.
To his astonishment she stood and laid her hand on his arm. “I would be delighted, sir.” He’d expected more resistance than that. Last night she’d definitely been avoiding him, avoided being alone with him.
He waited until they were out of earshot of everyone. The fragrance of the roses swirled about them, heady and seductive. He ignored it. “What are you doing here, Violetta?”
“Entering society.”
A wry smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “I would say that one part of society has already entered you, if I didn’t think you knew it already.”
A fiery blush coloured her delicate features. “It isn’t kind of you to remind me.”
“I rarely think of anything else, these days. That, and how to get you back where you belong. In my bed.”
She said nothing. No confirmation, no rejection. She didn’t look at him. “I was a fool to let you go, and more of a fool to rush my fences. Whether you accept me or not, Violetta, I am yours. At your feet, or anywhere else you want me. You know that, don’t you?”
“No,” she whispered. “I couldn’t do that to you. So I’ve done this.”
Violetta did look at him then. Now completely in control of herself again, she stared up at him and he felt the familiar sensation of drowning. “I know gentlemen get over their emotions very quickly.” He opened his mouth to protest but she didn’t let him interrupt. “Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I’ve seen it. I’m giving you a chance, Orlando, a fair chance. My mother and Aunt Virginia have given me an opportunity of my own, one I intend to take. You’ve committed yourself now, and you can’t draw back. She won’t let you. Please consider it carefully. Please.”
“Why do you doubt me?” he hissed. “Why do you say these things?”
She smiled gently. “Because, unlike most society maidens, I’ve seen it. Whores aren’t heartless, you know, although gentlemen like to think it. Sometimes, when their lovers drop them, they suffer more than you know. Sometimes they don’t.” She shrugged, her gown slipping over her shoulders, over that fair skin he loved to touch. “Whichever it is, it isn’t good business to show it. I’ve seen men go from one mistress to another in the course of a year, though in the circle I move in it is more usual for it to be longer. I’ve seen lifelong devotion.”
“Ripley and your mother?”
“Yes.” The word was cut off sharply.
“Then I’ll prove I can be as constant as your mother’s lover.”
“I’ve always been known as a Palagio.”
“That,” he said firmly, “is something else I wanted to talk to you about.” He held out his arm for her to take. She laid her hand on the dark red cloth, and they continued their stroll. “The family is a great and famous one. How could your mother turn from one extreme to the other?”
She shot a look at him. “Do you know anything of our history?”
“Yes, some of it. Your mother was the Contessa d’Oro?”
“She still is, but the only way she could escape my father was to leave the name behind.”
“I see.” She wondered if he did. Just for a moment she saw the anguish, the agony she had locked away deep inside her. “Violetta, I’m going to talk to Judith later today. I’m going to ask her to release me.”
She felt her face go cold, despite the heat of the sun. “You can’t. She won’t let you.”
“Yes, I can.” His lips firmed. “I wanted you when I only knew you as Violetta. I want you in every way possible.”
“That’s why I refused you. I couldn’t drag your family into that particular mire. You know I won’t let you do that.”
“Nevertheless, I w
ill.”
“Why?”
His eyes opened wide and he met her gaze with no subterfuge, no polite mask. He couldn’t hide anything from her. “You know why.”
They stared at each other in a moment separated from ordinary time.
“Goodness! You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”
The sharp trill of Lady Judith’s voice broke the dream, returned them to reality with a desperate plunge. She smiled brightly and came up on Orlando’s other side, to take his arm in a proprietorial gesture it would have been hard to miss. “Miss Palagio, you’ve put us all in the shade. How is it we’ve never heard of you before?”
Violetta smiled sweetly at Lady Judith, but Orlando saw the spark of alarm in her eyes. She had avoided being so close to the lady. There was a good chance the perceptive Lady Judith might recognize her as the dowdy Miss Charlotte Lambert. “I have lived in Italy with my family, Lady Judith, except for a time at school. Have you been to Italy?”
“No. Should I?”
“Yes.” Violetta lifted her head to one side, angling her hat so it shaded half her face. “It is a lovely country. The Palagios live mainly in Tuscany, near Florence, but we have relations in Rome.”
“Is it true that one of your relations is a cardinal? Lady Taversall mentioned it last night.”
Orlando tensed. Violetta answered. “My uncle is a cardinal in Rome, yes. The Palagios have had family in the Church for generations.”
“Then you’re a Catholic?”
There was a pause. Orlando frowned. He hadn’t thought about that.
Violetta turned coolly to Lady Judith, entirely ignoring his body between them. “Shall I trust you, I wonder? Yes, you have a trustworthy face.” Orlando bit back a laugh. “I was raised a Catholic because I was in Italy, but my family are not particularly religious. If I married a Catholic gentleman, I would retain my faith, but if I find a husband in this beautiful country, well then—” She shrugged, that gesture she made look so elegant. “I will abide by his religion. I believe that God is God, however you choose to worship Him. My uncle would be scandalized, but to be a cardinal in Italy is as much political as it is religious.” She stood back. “You are not shocked?”
“N-no.”
Orlando let out a breath he was not aware he’d been holding. Then smiled coolly at Lady Judith, who had already unsheathed her claws. She wouldn’t give him up without a fight. If it were not that he knew she held not one iota of special feeling for him he would feel sorry for her. Judith wanted to be close to Perdita, not him, she wanted wealth and position, not Orlando Garland. He would not break her heart. However he owed it to her to be kind in his separation from her. If he could manage it. She had remained close to Perdita when many others had abandoned her, and he held no grudge against her, although he still suspected she thought more of Perdita than she did of him.
“You are remarkably tolerant, for an Italian,” Lady Judith remarked.
“Yes, I am. I have travelled. I think it is wise to remember the customs of the country one is visiting. Perhaps, Lady Judith, you can help me accustom myself to this one.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Violetta had accepted the gauntlet, then. Orlando prepared to watch the spectacle and step in if it got too bloody. It could be worse than a duel to the death between two strong men. Women were so much more vicious.
Later that day Orlando requested a private interview with Lady Judith. He took her to a small parlour on the ground floor. “Please sit down.” He didn’t want to risk her falling down.
Orlando walked to the window and stared out at the gardens, then turned and walked back to Judith, stopping in front of the chair where she was seated. “Judith, I want to ask you to release me from our agreement.”
She looked up at him, head tilted on one side, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “I noticed you were much taken with Miss Palagio. Don’t worry. I won’t interfere with your dalliances.”
He tried again. “I want a partnership when I marry, Judith. I want someone I can trust, someone I can share with. You are an admirable woman, one I am sure will make a man a good wife one day. Just not me.”
“Why not?”
“My situation has changed. I have fallen deeply in love with Violetta Palagio.”
“In a day?”
He swallowed his response, that one minute with Violetta next to Judith would have been enough. “I made her acquaintance before. But she was unavailable then, and I tried to give her up. Today I saw how useless my efforts are.”
“How unfortunate!”
“I wish to ask her to marry me. I will ask her family for their help, if I have to.”
She humphed. “They can do nothing. They’re Italian. My claim on you will prevail.” She threw him a baleful glance. “I will give you five more minutes, sir. I thought we had an understanding. Will you turn that all upside down for this fleeting emotion? Love?” She spat the word.
Orlando couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You don’t know who the Palagios are?”
The smile lost its edge. “No, should I?”
He ticked off the attributes “Bankers, vineyard merchants and thus wine merchants, financiers and old nobility.” He lifted his head and stared at her. “They have fingers in every pie.”
Judith made a sound of exasperation. “Trade!”
He stared at her. “Judith, you are demonstrating why we are not a good match. I am in trade. It’s how I restored my fortune, and how I want to continue making a profit. You will have to entertain City merchants if you marry me, you will have to learn how not to deliver crassly ignorant comments such as the one you have just made.” She blenched, but he ignored it. He needed to make her understand. Even without Violetta’s presence, this would be a misalliance.
“I daresay I could manage that. If I felt like it.” He opened his mouth to reply but she forestalled him. “I have accepted your offer. We have announced it. It suits me, Orlando. I’m too old to go hunting for a husband, I can’t compete against the sweet young things launched in society each year, and I must be married. I won’t withdraw. If you wish, you must do it.” Orlando understood. He wouldn’t be able to dissuade her. “On the other hand,” she continued, examining her highly polished nails, “I won’t object to any liaisons you may wish to conduct. I won’t demand your presence day and night, and I won’t pester you for attention.” She looked back at him. “So you can have your Palagios and your opera dancers. I won’t mind.”
“All you would ever have of me, Judith, is my name and my status. Enough couplings to start a child. When I have the son I need to ensure the title, that will be the end of it and I’ll leave. Perdita won’t stay with me forever. She will marry, leave home and then you’ll be completely alone.” He tried to make her see how hateful such a loveless union would be for both of them.
She stood up and walked to the window in a gentle shush of silk. It was the only sound in the room. He listened, but heard nothing. No sobs, no sighs, not even laughter. Then she spoke. “No she won’t. Perdita’s too old, and her legs are ugly. No one will have her now. I will have her, Orlando, I’ll have her as my own, to control and to use as I want to. I’ll say this. Indulge yourself. Take the Palagio as a lover, if you wish. I’ll tolerate that. God knows, my mother has tolerated much more!”
“Your mother began the separation between your father and herself,” he pointed out acidly.
“She never cared for him,” she admitted. “But their marriage has been a success in all but a personal way.”
The most important way of all. “Would you settle for that?”
“I’ve been brought up to it.”
He stood perfectly still. “It’s not the kind of marriage I want.” A thought occurred to him, one that might persuade her to release him honourably. “If you think I’d condone your infidelities, you can think again. If I ever found you with another man, I’d take him to court.”
Her smile broadened again. “I thought y
ou knew. You won’t find me in another man’s arms. I can promise you that. I might have close friendships with other women, but men are not to my taste.”
He turned and strode to the door, tired of the conversation, tired of the antipathy that bristled in the room like a third person. Anger grew, that she would try to keep him despite what both of them wanted, merely for the sake of society. “Then, madam, I would keep you in my bed, force you to perform the act you find most distasteful. As I’ve heard you observe, all a man needs is another woman. I can promise you I would keep you busy, too busy for your female friendships.” He hoped that would bring Judith to her senses and spare Violetta some of the scandal that would occur when he broke their arrangement.
Without waiting for an answer he left, closing the door behind him with great care. He heard her chuckle just before the door closed.
Outside the room he heard a swirl of silk but he saw no one. Whoever had been listening had left a fragrance behind, one he knew well. The one his mother and his sister used.
Orlando loved Violetta beyond thought, beyond reason. Watching her, unable to touch her, he thought he might lose his mind if he couldn’t have her. There must be a way to placate Judith and prevent scandal that could open up Violetta’s relationship to La Perla and his mother’s friendship with the woman, there had to be.
Orlando went to his room, disinclined to engage in social activities and pleaded a headache. He had to think things through and he couldn’t bear to see Violetta at dinner, flirting and laughing with the others. It was too much today.
The raw interview with Lady Judith brought home exactly how serious his mistake had been, to think he could have found something with her. Anything at all.
His pretended indisposition brought Violetta hurrying to his side.
Orlando had sent his valet away, and was trying to concentrate on some business letters, newly arrived from London. His headache was imaginary. His dilemma was not.
A Chance to Dream Page 26
