Violet sat on the couch. Jane crawled into her lap as if she belonged there. Violet picked up the picture book one of her sisters had left on the side table and opened it. Every so often, Jane would point to a picture and say, “Papa.” When Violet looked up the first time and met his gaze, she found coldness and disdain. She wondered if anything in his life ever elicited a smile. The Lord Haverlane was indeed a strikingly handsome man, but his continued scowls terrified her. How could anyone possibly entertain the thought of marrying him?
A quarter hour later, when it was time to depart, Jane became upset. She did not want to leave Violet’s side, and Violet did not understand the little girl’s strong attachment, especially as it was from such a short acquaintance. She bent down on one knee in front of the child
“Shall I come to your house tomorrow?” Violet asked. “How would you like that, Jane?” She glanced at Lord Haverlane.
Jane immediately stopped her fit. “Yes, Imma, come.” Babbling to her father, she tugged on his sleeve.
“Would you like Lady Violet to come to our house tomorrow, Jane? Is that it?” Haverlane turned to her mother. “I shall be forever in your debt, Lady Flowers.”
*****
In the carriage, Ellis said, “She is the one, Mother.”
“Who is, dearest?” The duchess wrapped her summer shawl around her granddaughter’s shoulders. The little girl had fallen asleep.
“Lady Violet.”
His mother scoffed. “Dearest, she may be ton, but her family is on the veriest fringes of Society. Heavens, she is far too young for you, my dear, barely out of the schoolroom and she brings nothing to the Marquisate. Not a penny to her name. No connections at all. She may have a handsome face and a sweet disposition, but I believe you had best leave that gel alone.”
Ellis remembered how soft round hips and luscious curves filled his hand as he’d escorted Violet up the hill. She would be a stunning creature in a few more years.
“Mother! Not for me, for Jane. I should like Lady Violet to be Jane’s nanny.”
“Ellis, darling, do not be absurd. Her mother is attached to the Queen’s household. Lady Violet can no longer be a nanny than I may have more children.”
“Surely, if you spoke on my behalf, Mother, the Queen would allow such a favor. Think of Jane. She adores Lady Violet already.” Ellis flashed his mother a very rare smile.
The Duchess of Chesnick looked at her son, resigned.
Ellis sat back against the squabs and let out a sigh of relief. He had found the perfect nanny for his daughter. Now, to get her to consent.
The following day, Ellis paced the floor in his modest living room in St. Stephen’s Park, a quiet neighborhood in Mayfair. Jane played on the floor with her doll as they waited for Violet and her mother to arrive.
“Dearest, you shall wear a hole in the carpet,” his mother said. “Do not worry. If it is Violet you wish for Jane’s nanny, it is she you shall have. I am quite sure Rose will be delighted with the idea. It is not as if she has any hope of marrying the girl off.”
Ellis shot his mother a contemptuous glance. He thought Violet rather charming, if too young for his taste. However, she was certainly suitable to be Jane’s nanny.
“However,” his mother said. “You must let me do all the talking. This is a delicate business.”
Manning, his butler, opened the doors with a flourish. “Countess and Lady Violet Flowers.”
“Imma,” Jane screamed. She bounded up from the floor and flung herself around Violet’s legs, almost bringing them both crashing to the carpet. Violet kneeled down to the little girl as Jane spoke animated gibberish.
Violet said to her mother, “Jane would like to show me the garden. May we be excused?”
Jane held Violet’s hand and did not wait for an answer. She dragged Violet out to the terrace.
“Lady Flowers, do sit down,” Ellis said. He walked to the terrace doors and watched as the two girls skipped across the bricks.
His mother poured tea. Handing a cup to the Countess, she said, “Lilly and Violet will make their come-out during the Little Season, I have heard.”
“Yes. Her Majesty has been prodigiously kind securing vouchers for Almacks. Although, I would have liked to let Lilly have her own Season, it seemed best to let the two come-out together. They are so close in age.”
His mother placed a hand on her cousin’s arm.
“We have been thinking, dear Rose.” She glanced back toward the terrace, and continued in a whisper. “We are finding Jane at her most trying stage. You know well what that is like with five girls. However, I have finally convinced Haverlane Jane’s place is in the country. Perhaps if the memory of our dear Anne were not so difficult, Haverlane would have already found a mother for her. Be that as it may, we now find ourselves searching for a nanny.”
Lady Flowers nodded and glanced from Marion to him.
His mother continued. “Our Cousin Phyllidia would have come, but she is on the Continent for the summer with Lady Penswick and her brood. She has expressed an interest in caring for Jane, however, cannot arrive until the autumn. Due to his situation, you can see why Haverlane would not want just anyone taking care of our dearest girl. He requires someone with family and breeding, gentle yet with a firm hand, someone who would care for her.”
The Countess glanced again from one to the other.
“Haverlane has charged me to find the perfect nanny, and as you know, dearest, that is almost impossible.”
Violet’s mother nodded in agreement.
“I believe we have. However, that is, if you agree.”
“Me?” Lady Flowers asked. “What have I to do with Haverlane’s nanny?”
“We should like it to be your Violet. Haverlane believes Jane’s attachment to Violet would allow dear Jane to acclimate to the country. She is almost two and will be out of nappies soon. Surely, you can see Haverlane’s predicament having her underfoot in the house.” His mother leaned closer.
“Of course,” she whispered, “the compensation is more than what he would normally pay, which you might then use for her dowry. I understand this is highly irregular, but I must confide in you, dear Rose. Haverlane is beside himself on this point. He has given me a list of the qualities he wants and is implacable on the requirements. It seems your Violet is everything and more on his list.”
His mother laid her hand upon her cousin’s arm again. “Jane is his every reason for breath. He feels your Violet would be the perfect companion for Jane over the summer. Fairhaven is not so very far, only four hours from Town. I beseech you with your cousin’s heart, please look kindly upon Haverlane, and grant his request.”
“Forgive me, I know not what to say,” the Lady Flowers sputtered. “Pray, I do not think it is my say at all. We shall have to solicit Violet’s opinion. How long would this arrangement be?”
Ellis, roused from his perusal of the girls on the terrace, turned to Lady Flowers.
“Until such time as Cousin Phyllidia arrives, before the Little Season begins. I will leave a carriage for your disposal whenever you wish. As my mother said, Fairhaven is but four hours from Town and you are more than welcome to visit with Lady Violet whenever you like.” Ellis attempted a smile.
“I understand this is highly unusual,” his mother said. “But think how this would benefit both our families.”
The Countess stood from her chair and walked to the terrace doors, a smile on her face. “Violet,” she called.
*****
Violet waited for her mother to settle her skirts on the carriage seat before she spoke.
“Forgive me, Mother, I am truly without words. Jane is a delightful creature to be sure, but the responsibility is a bit overwhelming. I well remember my sisters when they were her age. Mother, you must advise me,” Violet said.
The clop of the horse’s hooves kept in time to her beating heart. ‘Twas an honor and a compliment the Marquess thought so highly of her, to place his daughter in her care. However, to be
accountable for a child who was not a member of her immediate family was a bit daunting.
“This will not be an idle occupation,” her mother said in a stern tone. “You must think long and hard before you make this kind of commitment. She is not one of your sisters. She is the daughter of a Peer.” Her tone softened. “I dare say, she is a charming child however, and if you wish to spend the summer in the country, I shall give you my blessing. It is Haverlane after all, and perhaps you will come away with a better understanding of your station in life. And the compensation provided shall do extremely well for you and your sister.” She took Violet’s hand and patted it.
Violet owned it would not be all sunshine and amiable accomplishments. Children could be difficult. She thought about the money. It would indeed help her mother with their come-out. She knew her marriage prospects were poor. Being the daughter of an Earl and raised in the Queen’s company elevated her standing, yet, her lack of fortune and plush form lowered her expectations for a love match. Men looked on her with an unfavorable eye. For those that did not, she did not like their look at all.
Violet decided residing in the country over the summer with a poppet would be lovely. It would also take her mind off the Little Season. She did not take such delight as Lilly in looking forward to it. She smiled at her mother.
“I will suffer no misfortune over the summer and think it a fine adventure, Mother, if the Queen should approve it.”
Chapter Three
The following Thursday, as dark clouds loomed overhead, Violet, Jane, and the Duchess of Chesnick, set off to Fairhaven Hall in the opulent carriage bearing the Haverlane crest. The Marquess rode astride. Jane squirmed on the seat trying to get a better view of her father. However, as they left the city limits and the horses picked up their pace, the little girl paled and began to drool.
“Seems our dearest girl does not like the motion of the carriage,” Lady Chesnick remarked. She opened her reticule and handed Violet a handkerchief.
Violet took it and placed Jane’s head in her lap.
“Be careful,” the duchess admonished. “You must watch her closely. I dare say you do not want her illness all over that pretty frock.”
Violet pushed over on the long seat and let the girl stretch her legs fully. Jane would sleep now, and hopefully, would not wake until they stopped. Violet smiled at Lady Chesnick’s closed eyes. It seemed Jane was not the only one who did not like the carriage ride. Violet looked out the window.
Haverlane held the reins with a steady hand, and his eyes flicked and darted under his hat as he rode. Tall in the seat, strong legs gripped the sides of the saddle. The tails of his long coat swirled behind him making imaginary wings. He reminded her of the dragon in Jane’s fairy story. Dark. Brooding. Although Violet had to acknowledge, at least on one occasion he had proved chivalrous, and that would indeed, make him more like a knight.
Handsome he was, but with such sorrow surrounding him, Violet wondered if any woman would feel comfortable in his arms, knowing she could never take the place of the woman he would always love. She felt sorry for him then, knowing his search for a wife would only end in finding a mother for Jane and nothing for himself.
Violet pulled on the top of her neckline, her traveling attire snug in the confines of the carriage. Yes, the Marquess of Haverlane was certainly a handsome man, but no matter what her mother said, even if she were old enough, Violet could never marry him. She would never compete with another woman’s ghost.
Violet gaped as Fairhaven Hall came into view. From another era, Violet gazed upon the heavy beams and the massive spread of the Tudor mansion. Surely, it contained fifty rooms. Maple sentries lined the long drive and the horses clopped over the cobblestones.
When they stopped in front of the imposing doorway, a man in simple farming clothes stood with an umbrella. The Marquess dismounted, and opened the door to the carriage.
“Welcome to Fairhaven,” he said.
Haverlane first assisted his mother, then his daughter, and then Violet from the carriage. As she descended, her trembling fingers slipped in his grasp at the same time she caught her heel in the hem of her gown. She stumbled, landing in the middle of Haverlane’s chest.
Strong arms came around her waist. “Lady Violet, are you all right?”
Mortified, Violet whispered a hasty, “Thank you, yes, my lord,” curtsied, and whipped past him along the drive.
Lady Chesnick swept through the open front doors and proceeded down the hall, barely stopping to remove her bonnet and shawl. Violet took Jane’s hand and led her through the entryway. She knelt down and untied the little girls’ bonnet.
Jane pointed her finger at the butler who had just entered. “Manning,” she said.
The butler smiled and bowed. “Lady Jane. Lady Violet. I’m glad you are arrived to Fairhaven Hall.”
“Mr. Manning,” Violet said. She stood and placed her gloves and Jane’s bonnet on the entrance table. She flicked a glance over her travel weary gown and shook out her skirts. The little girl giggled, did the same to her pinafore, then followed Violet down the hall.
Lady Chesnick stood in front of the small fire, warming her hands. Jane ran forward. Violet stopped her and leaned down to the girl. “Pray, remember Jane. One must never run toward a fire. You might trip and hurt yourself.”
“Not here for two minutes together and already getting into trouble,” the Marquess said from the doorway.
Jane scrambled to her father, who scooped her up and swung her in the air.
“Haverlane, our dear Jane wore three shades of green in the carriage during the entire drive,” his mother warned. “You should have a care flipping her about like a rag-doll.”
Haverlane tossed his daughter higher and Jane screamed with delight. He looked at his mother, a wide smile on his face.
Violet held her breath. Her heart stopped beating. The man who stood before her was not the stuffy aristocrat she thought him to be, but a caring loving father. And far more handsome than when he did not smile.
“Never fear, Mother,” he said. “I know my daughter. She is having too much fun to think about being ill. Are you not, my lovely?” The Marquess of Haverlane flung his daughter over his shoulder and stomped around the room. His laughter, full and deep, echoed in Violet’s head. He seemed to get as much joy from the play as Jane.
In her wildest imaginings, Violet would never have believed the man capable of eliciting such delight or in the partaking of it.
“Now, perhaps you will not run into fires, will you, dearest?” Haverlane kissed his daughter’s cheek as he sat with her on the sofa.
“No fire,” Jane said.
He addressed Violet. “Mrs. Jeffers will show you to your rooms.” Barely a hint of the smile remained. “I believe you and Jane have your own wing. If there is anything you require Manning will be at your service for the next several days.”
The butler stepped wordlessly into the room and bowed.
“Come Jane, we must say goodbye and away to our rooms.” Violet held out her hand. The little girl walked to her grandmother and curtsied. Lady Chesnick caught her son’s eye and smiled.
The two girls departed, but not before Violet heard the duchess say, “Dearest, you are quite right. I do believe Violet is just the thing our Jane needs. I am very glad I talked you into it.”
After dinner on the third night after their arrival, Lady Chesnick remarked that Haverlane should now hang his late wife’s portrait in a more comfortable location in the house.
“After all your new wife should not like to be always looking at her predecessor. Mayhap in the breakfast room or the front parlour.”
Haverlane said nothing, although Violet noticed his jaw clench.
The next morning when Violet sought Jane, the child was not in her room. Violet, unconcerned as the child must be with her father, began the search. The mansion was a maze of small rooms, connected to larger ones, which then connected to hallways. It would take several weeks to find her way unl
ess she made a map. Entering another hall, she heard voices. She turned left and found Haverlane and Jane in the gallery studying the late Lady Haverlane’s portrait.
“Imma.” Jane laughed and ran toward Violet.
“Forgive me, my lord,” Violet said. “I did not mean to intrude.” Violet took the little girl’s hand. “I was looking for Jane.”
Jane tugged on her hand. “Imma, come see Mama.”
Violet followed the little girl until she stood next to Haverlane. A chill ran over her spine and she could not help wonder which was behind it, the beauty of the woman in the portrait or Haverlane’s intoxicating aroma of leather, horses, and hay.
Violet glanced from the picture to Haverlane’s face. “She is very handsome, my lord.”
“Hmmm? Yes, thank you,” he murmured.
Violet would have taken Jane away, but he stopped her with his next question.
“Where should I put her?”
“I beg your pardon, my lord.”
“Where should I put Anne’s portrait? No matter where I decide to place it, Mother will undoubtedly find fault with its location. I ask if you have any notion where I may hang this and not be offensive. I do not wish to disrespect my dear wife with some obscure location.”
Violet detected a hint of anguish in his words.
“I am sure Jane would love her mother’s portrait above all things. Why not you hang it there, in Jane’s room?”
Haverlane looked upon Violet as if she were sunshine on a rainy day. A smile she had never seen before dazzled his eyes and nearly broke her heart when he turned it on her.
“My dear Lady Violet, that is absolutely brilliant. Yes, most ingenious. Thank you. Thank you very much.” He kissed the top of Jane’s head before he sprinted out of the gallery.
Violet heard him call for Manning.
After lunch, Violet and Jane made their way upstairs for Jane’s nap. They found the portrait of Lady Anne hanging above the low dresser across from the bed.
The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II) Page 2
