Violet heard a knock on the front door, followed by footfalls and her mother’s voice trilling as she greeted the Earl, her soon-to-be son-in-law. Shortly thereafter the door to her bedchamber opened, her sister Polly entering with her usual exuberance, Violet’s own maid trailing behind with one of Violet’s dresses for the occasion. She promised that she had packed much of Violet’s clothing and possessions until such time Violet could return home herself to determine what else she would require.
Violet’s stomach turned when she realized just how much was changing in one day. She had woken that morning anticipating a relatively typical day in her family’s home and now she had not only nearly died, but was going to be married to a man she barely knew and become the Lady of a household of her own. It was almost too much to comprehend and she shut her eyes tightly as if to ward off the overwhelm that had settled over her.
At least Polly helped her take her mind off it all and make light of the situation. She was near bounding around the room, chattering away in excitement over all that was happening.
“You should have heard Mama, Violet, when she received the note from Lord Greville! I thought she was going to faint, she was in such shock,” Polly said as she took stock of the extravagant bedchamber, with its thick lush carpet, heavy draperies that currently covered the large windows, and a beautiful canopied bed, its white hangings with intricate flowered designs in a deep red matching the quilt that lined the mattress.
Violet kept her eyes closed in the copper tub that had been brought in and filled for her. She languished in the warm waters as she listened to Polly rattle on.
“… And Father simply said, ‘Good Heavens!’ in that way of his and asked whatever could be so urgent that you would have to be married with such haste. Then, of course, realizing what could be the cause, he turned a deep red, to which Mama replied that you had just met the gentleman two evenings ago at the ball and had spent only a few minutes in his company outside of the ballroom, so there could not be anything unseemly at play. To which I must ask Violet, whatever is happening? The Earl was explaining to Mama and Father downstairs, but I insisted that I come see you at once.”
Violet opened her eyes.
“I had an accident, Polly. My carriage caught fire and I hit my head quite soundly when it overturned. Lord Greville pulled me from the carriage to safety. He has determined, despite my insistence otherwise, that I cannot be moved and therefore must stay in his home. Of course, this would be completely untoward unless we were married, so he has determined that the wedding will happen today. If, that is, he can secure a special license.”
“Oh, but he has,” Polly replied. “In fact, the clergyman is already here. How are you feeling now? Oh, look at your poor forehead! My dear, Violet, that is quite the gash.”
Violet had to admit that she was not at her best. The room still spun when she opened her eyes, and she was having difficulty concentrating on what Polly was saying.
Her last hope, however, had been dashed, if Lord Greville indeed was able to obtain the special license so quickly.
It took much more time than usual to prepare for the short ceremony. The two maids took their time drying her hair before artfully curling and arranging it to hide the gash on her forehead. Violet had to sit a few times and rest as she dressed in her best gown, a white silk with rosebuds inlaid into the fabric. Polly pinched her cheeks to try to draw some color into them, as her skin remained quite pale. By the time she viewed herself in the large circular mirror in the corner, she was already nearly worn out and the room spun around her.
“Oh, Violet, you look simply beautiful!” said Polly with delight. “What a lucky man Lord Greville is. Come, they will be waiting downstairs.”
Lord Greville was waiting in the hall to help Violet down the stairs. As he offered her his arm, he gave her a smile of appreciation that returned some of the wanted color to her cheeks. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Marie ran to her daughter, claiming to be distraught with worry over Violet’s condition following the accident, however Violet could see the gleam in her mother’s eye that told her she was not entirely displeased with the situation.
“You are well enough to marry today, darling?” her mother asked with some trepidation. Violet was sure Marie was fighting a battle within herself between disappointment the wedding was such a small affair, and excitement at the urgency of the marriage to ensure nothing would keep it from occurring.
“I am well, Mama,” Violet responded, although the hand she kept on the Earl’s arm to keep herself upright spoke otherwise.
“We shall make the ceremony quick, so you are able to rest,” Lord Greville said to her, as he led her to the drawing room that had been rearranged to accommodate them. Violet’s father left her brother Benjamin and Lord Taylor, with whom he had been conversing, to come kiss his daughter on the cheek. With the exception of Thomas, of course, and Daniel, who was currently at Woodsworth, their country estate, her entire family had come to witness the event.
Lord Greville told her that regretfully his mother was on holiday in Bath, but he was sure she would be most pleased with their union.
“You look lovely, my dear,” Lionel said in a rare show of emotion as he took her arm. “This is happening somewhat quickly for my taste, but as long as you will be happy, that is what matters most.”
She bestowed him with a sincere smile and ensured him that he had nothing to worry about. She inclined her head at both Benjamin and Lord Taylor, who politely offered their good wishes. They both seemed somewhat worried about the whole affair, each for their own reason.
“Are you sure, Violet?” Benjamin asked her in a low tone, and she simply nodded.
The ceremony was brief, and Violet had trouble concentrating. Her father walked her to Lord Greville, who was standing with the clergyman. She repeated the words the clergyman provided to her, her gaze at her hands. The Earl tilted her chin towards his face as he said his words to her, promising his love and fidelity as long as they both should live. She knew the words were hollow, however, a promise that all married couples made but few kept sacred. It was the reason why she had turned down so many suitors. She always thought when she said these words — if she said these words — they would be for a true love match. She hoped, at least, in time the affection the Earl seemed to show for her would not wan.
Her family stayed for a small dinner that had been prepared as hastily as the marriage itself. Benjamin pulled Violet aside to ensure that all was well and there was nothing he needed to do in order to defend her to the Earl. She smiled and assured him that she was fine, but grateful for his support.
Violet retired soon after supper, bidding farewell to her family. Her husband walked her to her bedchamber to determine she was feeling well before wishing her goodnight. As she entered the room, alone but for her maid, she felt somewhat bereft. She understood he was likely avoiding consummating their marriage due to her injuries, and she was glad of it; however, this was so removed from the wedding night she had always hoped for.
She sank into bed, overwhelmed and alone, and tossed fitfully through the night.
When Joshua had stood next to the clergyman as his fiancée left her father’s arm and took his, the enormity of the situation and what he was entering into finally struck him. He was marrying this woman. For the rest of his life. As she looked up at him with a mix of bewilderment, acceptance, and — just possibly — hope, his heart squeezed in his chest as he felt a sense of wonder that this woman would now be his, and his alone.
As independent as he knew she was, he suddenly felt a sense of responsibility as he never had before. It was up to him to keep her safe and protected. He had somewhat accomplished this feat by virtue of her now being his wife, and he could keep her safe in the confines of his home. But the deeper he was looking into this criminal activity, the more he felt that London was no longer safe for Violet.
He had watched her during the dinner following their small ceremony. She had hardly touche
d her food, and he was unsure if it was due to how overwhelmed she was at being wed so suddenly, or the ill effects following the attempt on her life earlier that day.
When he had walked her to her bedchamber to retire for the evening, his body wanted nothing more than to follow her in and show her that there were advantages to marriage that she had perhaps not realized. However, he saw the tiredness in her eyes and felt the way she leaned on him to climb the stairs, and knew tonight was not the night to introduce her to the marriage bed. He left her at the door with a chaste kiss on the cheek and rejoined the party below for a time.
He felt the only way to truly keep Violet safe was for her to stay at his country estate, to where he would send her once she had recovered from her ordeal. As he waited over the next two days, he worked tirelessly on his investigation of Sir Whitby’s death and the activities leading up to it. The man Taylor had caught in the gardens was in custody, and while the police did a fine job in questioning him, Joshua felt the need to see this man for himself. So far he had not revealed anything of note, including whether or not he was aware that the lady in the garden was Violet.
In the meantime, he kept one of his men at his London house at all times to ensure Violet’s safety. He had asked the man to disguise himself as a servant, to keep Violet from additional worry. She still did not know the danger she was in, and Joshua did not want to cause her any fear.
When he joined his wife at the dinner table two days following their marriage, he noted that color had mostly returned to her cheeks, and she took more than just a few bites of food. When asked, she also told him the room no longer spun when she stood, and her vision had become quite clear.
“I believe we should take some time and visit Colemore,” he said as he poured himself a glass of wine.
“Colemore?”
“Yes, my country estate,” he replied, surprised that she didn’t know to where he was referring. He had forgotten that it had been such a short time since he had even met Violet, let alone married her. “It is less than a day’s ride from here. If you depart early enough tomorrow, you should make it in good time. I will follow soon after, once I finish my business in London.”
“Oh,” she said, and he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her face. “We will not travel together? Can I not wait until you are also prepared to leave London? I still have not quite unpacked since moving here and would like to somewhat settle before we depart.”
At her dismayed words, he took another tactic. “It will be our honeymoon, some time to ourselves in the country. I only suggest you go ahead in order to familiarize yourself with the home and the staff. I should not be much behind you at all.”
In truth, he wasn’t sure how long he would stay in London. He would prefer to remain until he could determine who was behind these crimes, but he was becoming quite frustrated with the lack of progress they were making.
She simply nodded at his response, but he didn’t miss the way her jaw tightened as she looked down at her plate, eating only a few additional morsels before declaring that she was quite full. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but his first priority was keeping her alive.
Joshua also desperately wanted to consummate his marriage with his wife. He would like to do so the coming night, but he had a pre-arranged meeting with his men that he could not cancel. They had gone down to the Thames to speak with the street urchins to determine if any had seen men depositing Sir Whitby’s body in the river the other night, and he was eager to speak to them as to whether they had learned anything.
Joining his wife in their marriage bed would have to wait for another evening, he thought with a sigh. Looking at her across the table, the glow of the flame of the candles lit the soft skin where dark tendrils of hair grazed against her cheek. He longed to reach out and brush his fingers in that same place to feel for himself, but he restrained himself. If he started, he would never be able to leave her, and he must, if for nothing else than her own safety.
He always took these investigations quite seriously, knowing that there were lives at stake and he was intent on finding justice for innocent victims. Now, however, he felt more determined than ever to find who was perpetrating these crimes and after Violet’s life.
9
Four days after her hasty marriage, Violet was ensconced in her new country home as the wife of an earl, and feeling quite alone.
"You are a married lady now," she told her reflection, as her maid began to unpack her things. "You must simply accept it." Gingerly, she felt the wound on her forehead, still an angry, nasty gash, and a reminder of all that had occurred. It was not as though she was sad with her new situation in life, simply that it had all happened so quickly that she was struggling to adjust. On top of that, everything that Lord Greville had said, as regarded his affection for her, rang round and round in her head.
Over the two days in London following their wedding, she had hardly seen her new husband. When she did, he was polite, cordial, and complimentary, but Violet felt something was lacking. She had nothing to complain about, and yet she was becoming dismayed that her marriage was following those typical of most members of the peerage, an arrangement between man and wife that followed what was required of them. Where was the man she had met that night in the gardens, the night that had begun dreadfully and yet ended in exhilaration? She supposed this was why one did not marry a man the day after meeting him — because one evening did not truly reveal one’s character.
She still held hope that the words of affection he had spoken to her were true. If they were, perhaps they could develop into something more, and these days together in the country might be the start of a marriage with more significance than two people of a certain social stature in an arranged partnership.
The dinner gong rang, startling her. It was more than a little embarrassing to have to turn to her maid and ask her to guide her to the dinner table, as she found her new home to be quite expansive.
Violet was still awaiting Lord Greville, who had promised he would arrive shortly after she departed for the country. In fact, she expected him at dinner this very evening. Violet’s stomach began to flurry with nerves, her hands trembling slightly as she followed the maid down to the dining room.
Pushing the door open, Violet found, to her disappointment, that the room was empty save for a footman or two. Knowing that she could not show her emotions to the staff, she sat down at the table and clasped her hands in her lap. There was a second place set, however, which buoyed her slowly sinking hope. Perhaps her husband would be with her very soon.
As Violet waited patiently, she reflected on the man she now called husband. She knew very little about him and had only seen him twice since their hasty marriage, for he had claimed that she needed to rest and recover. Their only real conversation had been dinner the night before she had left — or, rather, before he had sent her away. She could see none of the affection he had promised he held for her, despite her awareness that she found him a highly attractive gentleman. While Violet understood that her mother was extremely delighted with the situation and her father pleased that she had found a suitable husband, Violet could find no such delight herself.
Deep down, she worried that the affection Lord Greville swore he held for her was nothing more than a lie, as he was intent on making her his bride. She was not sure why he would wish to do such a thing, especially to wed someone such as her, who was both a bluestocking and something of a wallflower. He had claimed that he found her bluestocking tendencies to be a positive attribute, but she was not sure now that he had spoken the truth.
Violet sighed to herself. In short, she had not expected to feel so alone and confused so soon after being wed. The man had left her in her own company, sending her to his country estate whilst he remained in town. This was exactly why she had avoided marriage — this type of arrangement, of living separate lives, held no appeal to her. She would rather still be unattached. At least, then, she would be with
her family.
Even though all of her things were now here, she felt as though she were a stranger, residing in a place that she had no business being in. She did not want to touch anything, nor make any changes, finding it quite strange to be referred to as ‘Lady Greville’ by the housekeeper and staff. Sighing to herself, Violet indicated that the first course should be served, finding that she could not wait any longer. Her husband would simply have to forgive her hunger.
Three hours later, Violet sat alone in the extravagant drawing room, frustrated by the dampness on her cheeks. She had not meant to become so upset but found the aching loneliness, coupled with confusion, more than she could bear. She felt like a pawn used in some kind of game, where Lord Greville was the one in charge and she was simply to be turned to his will.
“My dear!”
Startled, Violet jumped visibly, clutching at the upholstered arms of her chair as she attempted to rise to her feet. The book that had been lying unread in her lap fell to the floor.
Lord Greville came into view, his face wreathed in smiles. "I must apologize for my tardiness," he said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. "I was unavoidably detained." His smile slowly slid from his face as he took in her features, one thumb reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“It is good to see you, my lord,” Violet said, clearing her throat as her heart thumped wildly in her chest.
“Sad, my lady?” he replied, softly. “Why so?”
Violet shook her head, finding that the ache in her throat made it difficult to speak. She could not put words to how much she had struggled with both her own thoughts and her own company, finding her altered situation incredibly difficult to accept.
“I am sorry for my absence, truly,” he said, moving closer to her so that she could not avert her eyes from his. “Had I known you were so miserable –”
Clue of Affection Page 6
