He was gone! The pain that gripped Violet’s heart nearly brought her to her knees.
*****
Ellis and Draco thundered into the village. His excuse to leave for London – hogwash. He hadn’t anticipated leaving so suddenly, he’d wanted to make the most of his time with Jane, but now he needed to depart Fairhaven before something else happened. The kiss he and Violet shared last night in the library haunted his dreams and if he stayed, he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself. It did not make sense to tempt fate in such a manner.
He brought Draco to rein in front of the curacy. Steam rose from his horse, and he cursed himself for the foolish ride. Draco did not deserve such harsh treatment. Although his wish to speak with Andrew Perry was imperative, he walked the animal down to John Kendrick’s blacksmith barn. The fire from the forge would spare Draco muscle cramps and he paid John’s boy a florin to walk the creature and secure a warm stall until he finished with Andrew.
Ellis walked along the snow-covered road back to the curate’s house. Mrs. Perry, although surprised to see him, graciously bade him enter. She sent one of the children to get their father.
“A pleasure, I’m sure, Haverlane,” Andrew Perry said coming out from the hall, his hand outstretched in greeting. “Pray, to what do I owe the honor?”
“Forgive me disturbing you this very early morn, but I need to speak with you,” Ellis said to Andrew as they shook hands. He nodded to Aurelia Perry.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Andrew said. “Come to my office. We shall not be disturbed. Would you care for tea?”
“No, thank you.” Ellis followed his friend down the hall.
Offering Ellis the only good chair in the room, Andrew moved a pile of books from a small spindle-back and sat on that. The fire in the grate burned low and smoky. A tray holding remnants from breakfast sat on a table, also topped with books and papers.
“Tell me, what is it that has you so troubled?” Andrew asked.
Ellis abruptly stood and began to pace the small room. “You know me very well, my friend. Tell me, Andrew, do you believe in ghosts?”
“What? Ghosts, as in the supernatural world?”
Ellis stopped pacing. “Yes.”
“I am not sure. Although I am also not sure that, they do not exist. What is it, Haverlane? Have you seen a ghost? Anne’s ghost?”
Ellis walked to the window and looked out over the barren garden. Frost-covered gates and snow encrusted root vegetables lay silent in the sunlit morning.
“Do you think spirits can inhabit souls in the living world?” Ellis asked. That was the only explanation for his yearning for Violet. Anne had somehow returned and now lived in Violet’s body.
“Ellis, pray sit down and tell me what has happened,” Andrew said.
Ellis slumped back down in his chair. “I kissed her.”
“Kissed who? Anne?” Andrew asked in astonishment.
“No. Violet.”
“Ellis, I do not understand. What has Anne’s ghost to do with kissing Lady Violet?”
Ellis sprang from his chair and began pacing once more. “I cannot fathom it myself. But it is the only explanation I have.”
“Explanation for what?”
Ellis, exasperated his friend was not grasping what he was trying to say, exploded. “For kissing Violet.”
Andrew leaned back in his chair, the spindles creaking under his weight. “Would you care to tell me what happened. From the beginning.”
“After the party, I invited Violet to the library for a small celebratory libation. Deservedly so after all her hard work. We talked, surprisingly, well into the night. I have never met such a girl who so thoroughly engaged her address. She spoke of Parliament, and our Prince, the abolitionists, and our fight with Napoleon. She knew her own mind, and held her convictions with such alacrity I declare I was listening to an old MP.” Ellis paused by the fireplace. His fingers touched a small porcelain figurine of a shepherd with a lamb.
“The clock struck midnight and we both realized we had been engaged for hours. I do not actually know how it happened, but I kissed her before she left the room.” Ellis walked to the bookcase and spoke softly to the painting of several cows that hung there. “I wanted her, Andrew,” he said. “Not like I have wanted anyone before. I cannot account for it, save the fact Anne’s ghost has come back and inhabited Violet’s body.” Haverlane finally looked at his friend and found him smiling. “You are amused by this.”
“Ellis, forgive me, I am not making light of your situation, but do you not see? It is not Anne who inhabits Lady Violet’s body, it is your soul coming back to life. We all saw you crushed by Anne’s death. Your mourning lasted well longer than what is normally expected by a man of your station, but as we all knew, you were in love with her.” Andrew rose from his chair.
“This kiss is not as devastating as you think,” Andrew continued. “It is a natural progression from grief. I am astonished that a man of your intellect cannot see this. You will always love your late wife. That is understood. She is Jane’s mother after all. Nevertheless, how could you not find Lady Violet attractive? Why, half the men in town are secretly in love with her. She is charming and delightful, well read, and, as you say, well versed in politics. She is kind, has a generous heart, and is affable and amiable beyond reproach. Your own soul has long grieved for Anne and now, being here at Fairhaven, it has awakened your need for the comforts of a companion. Surely, you must see the similarities between Anne and Lady Violet. It is no wonder you kissed her.”
“Perhaps, but I am heartily ashamed of myself and my actions. She is just a child.”
Andrew laughed and leaned against his desk. “She is not a child, my friend. She is a young woman. A beautiful, caring creature, who I think has come to mean a great deal more to you than you care to admit.”
Was it true? Did Violet really mean that much to him? But how could that be? He’d spent very little time in her company and when he had, Jane had always been present.
“No,” Ellis said. “I believe I have been run away with gratitude for Violet and her nurture of Jane. I hardly know her. We have certainly not spent more than a matter of hours in each other’s company.”
“Ah, but you see,” Andrew said. “Love holds no account for time. It can strike as suddenly as a lightning bolt.”
Ellis’ eye twitched. “Love! Are you daft? As you say, I may have some very little feelings for her, but love is utter nonsense. I have only loved one woman in my life and she is dead.” He strode across the room to stare sullenly out the window again.
“Are you sure? Your denial is not convincing,” Andrew said.
“Andrew, I must speak plainly. Lady Violet is all the things you have said, and quite possibly more, but I am not in love with her. It is the stress of coming back to Fairhaven, and finding Violet standing so competently in Anne’s shoes, that has me undone. That is all.”
Andrew smiled. “Think what you will, but I shall pity you grievously if you do not realize what I see very plainly. Broken hearts, as you well know, do not only belong to women.”
Chapter Ten
For two days after Haverlane’s departure, Violet let despair consume her. She explained to Jane she was ill and left her in Camelia’s care. Violet sought out the lonely places of the house trying to memorize its contents. No matter what happened, she would never forget the happiness she had found at Fairhaven.
Late in the morning of the third day of her misery, gazing at Haverlane’s portrait in the gallery at the front of the house, she heard a commotion in the courtyard. She hurried down the stairs, and met Mrs. Jeffers in the hall and waited while the old woman opened the lock. Had Haverlane returned?
Mrs. Jeffers swung the door wide and her mother, two youngest sisters Holly and Ivy, Haverlane’s mother the Duchess of Chesnick, and another woman bustled into the house dragging in snow and the cold air. Several footmen were swinging down bags and portmanteaus from the handsome coach. Three ladies maids stood s
hivering while they waited.
“Dearest, how good to see you.” Violet’s mother enveloped her in a stiff hug. “We have finally arrived to make merry for Twelfth Night, and I have brought more friends. Are you not surprised?”
Oh yes, Violet was sure, she was quite undone.
Lady Chesnick gave orders to Mrs. Jeffers for tea and cakes, not even waiting for everyone to be in from the cold. Standing in the doorway to the front parlour, she exclaimed how lovely the room looked.
“And this is my dear daughter-in-law Penelope, the Duchess of Caymore,” she said as an afterthought to Violet. “She is married to my son, William.”
Jane and Camelia skipped from the library to see who had arrived.
“Here is my poppet!” Lady Chesnick exclaimed. “Do come and give your old granny a kiss.”
Jane ran excitedly to her grandmother. The older woman kissed the child’s cheeks and turned to Violet again. “Where is my son? Is he not here to greet his own mother?”
“I am sorry, Your Grace. The Marquess departed but three days ago. I am surprised you did not see him in Town,” Violet said.
“It is no matter,” Lady Penelope said. “We shall all be comfortable and cozy without the company of men, shall we not?”
While the travelers assembled in the front parlour, Violet excused herself and went to the kitchen to find Mrs. Jeffers. With so many people in the house, the need to secure help from the village was imperative. Mrs. Jeffers and Grennan were conferring heatedly when Violet stepped into the steamy room. Several pots for tea sat on the plank table, along with cups, spoons, tableware, and trays as well as several of the leftover cakes from the Wassail party cut into pieces.
“Lord bless me, Lady Violet,” Mrs. Jeffers cried, “I do not know what I shall do. I knew your mum and sisters would come, but did not expect the others and all their servants. I cannot keep up with so many.”
“Do not fret so, Mrs. Jeffers.” Violet placed her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I have come to help you until such time I may send Grennan down to the village for Mary, Sarah, and Ruth.” She turned to Grennan. “Before you go to the village however, we shall need wood for the fires in the guest quarters.”
Violet then designated her mother and sisters their rooms, and the servants the ladies had brought with them. Two of the three footmen entered the kitchen and Violet asked if they wouldn’t mind helping Grennan with the wood and water for the rooms. They acquiesced and left with Grennan.
Camelia came next and wondered what was keeping Violet.
“Mama is asking for you, Violet. Will you not join us? It is a very happy party indeed. She has brought our Christmas gifts.” She turned and raced from the room without waiting for an answer.
Violet helped Mrs. Jeffers with the trays and they each carried one into the parlour.
“Dear me, Violet, what is the meaning of this? Has Haverlane got you working as a parlour maid as well as his nanny?” Lady Chesnick asked aghast. “There is nothing more important to me than the care of my granddaughter.”
Violet smiled. “No, indeed, Your Grace. It is just you have surprised us with your arrival and I’m afraid we are short staffed. After the rooms are warmed, Grennan will go to the village to engage more help and by tomorrow, I assure you, things will be as they should.” She set the tray down by her mother.
“Well that is very industrious of you, indeed,” Lady Chesnick said although her nose wrinkled. “I am pleased you seem to have the running of Fairhaven under control.” She whispered to Rose, “Haverlane has left the place in such disarray, but it is well to be expected with no wife.”
“Mama,” Camelia said. “It is a shame you did not arrive for Christmas. Violet had a Wassail bowl for the tenants and our friends in the village, and it was a very great success. We had pie and cake and so many good things to eat.”
Lady Flowers looked at her daughter with pursed lips. “Is that so? Well then, I am sorry I did not.”
“A Wassail bowl,” Lady Chesnick said. “And are you also responsible for the decorations?”
Violet nodded.
“Well, that was certainly conscientious of you, Violet.”
“It was the least I could do when Jane and I have met such good friends in the village,” Violet said softly.
Grennan stood in the doorway to the front parlour, his hat in his hand. Violet excused herself and spoke to him briefly, then returned to the parlour.
“If you would excuse me ladies, I’m afraid there is much to be done in the kitchens and until such time as the girls arrive from the village, I should be obliged to help Mrs. Jeffers.”
“What is Haverlane thinking,” Violet’s mother cried, “to leave you out here in the wilds of the country without as much as a scullery maid.”
“It is only Jane and I, Mother. Mrs. Jeffers and Grennan tend to our needs quite well.” Violet prayed the censure in her words remained silent.
“Be that as it may, I intend to scold Haverlane severely when next I see him,” her mother clucked. “Leaving her here with no servants! Has there ever been such a man?”
Violet excused herself with a short curtsy and went down to the kitchen. Mrs. Jeffers was in a state and the kitchen in uproar, with pots and rough vegetables sitting next to a platter of several smoked fish and tarnished silver on the plank table. Unfortunately, the old woman was not used to having so many mouths to feed and scurried around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off.
Violet calmed the woman and they both began to peel and chop vegetables. Grennan would also have to kill said chicken or two when he came back. Hopefully, they would have enough to feed everyone on this night. Tomorrow, Violet would send him back to the village to the butcher.
Lady Penelope came into the kitchen. “You must allow me to help. I am not so dexterous with a knife, but if you wish, I could make apple tarts.”
Violet curtsied. “I would not put you out, Your Grace.”
“Please, you must call me Penny. My husband’s title is such that we do not use the privilege. And we are not so far apart in age. I have heard so much about you, I feel as if we are already friends.” The young duchess walked to the aprons hanging by the pantry and slipped one over her shoulders. “If you would not mind showing me where to find the ingredients, I shall make myself comfortable at the very end of the table to be out of your way.”
“This is so very kind of you, Lady Penny,” Violet said.
The three women worked in companionable silence, Mrs. Jeffers making soup, Violet cutting vegetables and cleaning fish, and Penny making apple tarts. By the time Grennan came back with all three girls from the village, dinner was almost complete. Violet and Penny relinquished their aprons to Ruth and Sarah. Mary, dressed in black and a starched white apron, took a tray, and made her way to the front of the house.
When Violet and Penny arrived to the parlour, only Lady Chesnick and Violet’s mother remained.
“Where are the girls?” Violet asked.
“Playing upstairs, I believe,” her mother said.
Violet glanced at the clock. “It is past time for Jane’s nap. I must go and find her.”
“Violet, you have not spent two minutes together in my company since I’ve arrived. I should think you do not wish to see me at all.” Rose Flowers pouted.
Violet kissed her mother’s cheek. “Mother, that is not true. However, if I do not attend to Jane at this moment, she will present a very disagreeable picture at dinner this evening.”
“Haverlane has spoiled his daughter exceedingly by allowing her to dine at the family table,” Lady Marion said to Penny.
Penny smiled at Violet. “I think that is a lovely idea. Would you mind very much if I came with you. I should so like to see the rest of the house.”
“Of course, it would be my pleasure,” Violet said.
As the women ascended the stairs, Penny asked, “Do you not find it lonely living such a distance from your family?”
“I am not entirely cas
t down. Jane is a delightful child and we have made many friends in the village. My mother, sisters, and Haverlane write to me often and…”
“Haverlane writes?” Penny asked in wonder.
Violet’s cheeks tingled. “Why, yes. I tell him of Jane’s progress and he reports on Prinny and Parliament.”
Penny gave her a surprised look and followed Violet to the wing where she and Jane stayed.
They found all four girls in Jane’s bedroom.
“Imma, come see. Cammy’s sisters here,” Jane screeched in excitement.
“Yes, I see, Jane. Did you know they are my sisters as well?” Violet asked the little girl.
Jane’s eyes grew wide.
“But now, dearest, you must say good-bye to the girls. It is time for your nap.”
“Jane no sleep, Imma. Jane play wif sisters.”
“Dearest, please, do not you wish to feel refreshed for your grandmother this evening?” Violet looked at Penny and tried to stifle a smile. It was not the first time Violet had this argument.
“No. Jane play wif sisters.” The little girl pouted.
“I will put her to bed, Violet,” Camelia said. “You must go and visit with Mama. Holly and Ivy will also lay with us, will you not?”
The twins agreed in unison. Violet wished she could remain as well, as any place was better than being with the two women downstairs.
“Very well, if you promise to rest and not play. I will come back up within an hour and if you are not sleeping, you will not be allowed the very fine dessert Lady Penny has made for us all.” Violet knew her sisters would do anything for a sweet. Such extravagances were seldom found at home.
Violet kissed all the girls and helped them into bed. All four lay across, Jane in the middle, and Violet placed a blanket over them. “Sleep now and we shall be a very merry party tonight.”
Closing the door to the bedroom, she heard giggles and reopened the door to give a stern glance at all four. “Sleep,” she said. She left the door open. Not a sound was heard as she and Penny moved down the hall.
“Jane adores you,” Penny said.
The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II) Page 8
