by Jenna Jaxon
Everyone turned toward Dora, standing behind the sofa, chin raised, lips firm.
Violet’s heart went out to the girl she had been able to call friend so briefly.
Tris stopped and faced her. “Yes, Miss Harper?”
Twisting her hands until her fingers were white, Dora finally managed to speak. “Under the circumstances, as you have challenged my brother, I regret to tell you I must release you from your promise of marriage. I cannot, in good conscience, marry a man who would cause my brother harm.” Her eyes flashed like hard gems at Tris. “I think we will not meet again, my lord.” With one agonized look at Violet, she picked up her skirts and fled.
“Dora! Come back this instant!” Downing roared at the figure in white disappearing out the doorway.
“Oh, let her go.” Harper gingerly pulled another sliver of glass from the leg of his breeches. “Trevor would never marry her now he’s got his whore back with him. And you shouldn’t—”
Tris’s right fist connected with Harper’s nose, producing a spectacular crunch.
The man flew backwards again, into a tall stand holding a bust of Caesar. The bust shattered into a thousand pieces of plaster, raining down on the still, bloody figure on the floor.
“Three days.” Tris gathered Violet to him and strode from the room.
Chapter 29
“Go upstairs quickly, change and gather your things, love.” Tris murmured as he walked her to the staircase.
His arm a comforting and welcome weight about her waist, Violet sighed, reluctant to lose contact with him. “But—”
“No. Nothing you can say will induce me to leave you in this house one minute more. I shall wait here for you.” He brushed a kiss over her lips and her heart sang with joy. “I love you.”
A burden she’d not known she carried fell from her shoulders. He did love her. She floated up the steps, her head whirling. Her fortunes had shifted like the March wind blowing a stray feather to and fro. Pray God it now headed her on a true course for happiness.
She opened the door to the nursery, heading for her room when a rhythmic creaking of the floorboards in the next room stopped her where she stood. Had Anna awakened and gone looking for her? She changed course and peeped into the girl’s bedroom.
The golden head slumbered peacefully, beautiful in its innocent repose. The maid assigned to watch her until Violet returned from dinner rose, putting aside the bit of mending she’d occupied herself with.
With a finger raised to her lips for silence, Violet beckoned the girl. “Bess, you must stay the night with Miss Anna. I am to leave Harper’s Grange and she cannot be alone. Go fetch your night things. I shall wait until you return.”
Wide-eyed, Bess stared at her as though she were spouting Latin, then nodded and sped from the room.
Squaring her shoulders, Violet returned to the nursery sitting room. She’d discover who the trespasser was and dismiss them as well. At least it couldn’t be Mr. Harper, so she would deal with whoever it was swiftly.
The door to her chamber stood ajar, the constant creaking continuing within. Boldly, she pushed it open.
Dora stood at the end of her bed, folding one of Violet’s gowns, the trunk at her feet half-filled with clothing.
“What are you doing here?” Violet’s voice wavered. She was surprised she could speak at all. The last person she had expected to see was Dora.
“I’m helping you pack.” The young woman’s stare pierced Violet to her core.
“You needn’t bother, Miss Harper.” She hated addressing her friend that way, but best not rely on the familiarity of a friendship most likely blasted to Hades.
Dora cringed then laid the gown gently in the trunk. “I’d think you’d want to shake the dust of this house from your feet without delay.” Abruptly, she straightened, wringing her hands. “My brother behaved abominably toward you.”
A glimmer of hope raised its head. “He did. You must believe me when I tell you I gave him no encouragement for his attentions whatsoever.”
“Oh, I believe you.” Dora picked up a pair of stockings from the bed and began to roll them. “I also believe Lord Trevor is in love with you.”
Violet bowed her head but could not deny it. “Yes, and I am in love with him.” The weight of that admission rolled off her shoulders like the globe of Atlas, and she’d swear on her grandmother’s grave she’d not take up that guilt again. She sniffed, determined not to cry, and raised her head. “How did you know?”
“The way he looked at you the other day when he interrupted our lesson.” Her clear blue eyes took on a faraway look. “He looked as though he had lost a great treasure and suddenly found it again. The light in his eyes…” Dora sighed. “I know he will never look at me that way.”
Violet’s heart went out to her, but she suspected it was the truth.
“I am glad my brother provided a way for me to release Lord Trevor from his promise. He saved me the trouble of inventing a reason.” After grabbing a chemise from the chest on chest, Dora laid it on the bed and straightened every line until the garment lay in a perfect square. “I was leaning toward accusing Lord Trevor of the theft of a particularly dear parure my grandmother left me. I had shown it to him just last week. It might not have held water as far as an excuse, but I could have worked it up into an issue of trust that would have sufficed.” A smile broadened into a grin. “I’d even figured out a way to slip the items into his room.” She gave a little laugh then sobered. “Still, I am glad in the end I needn’t besmirch his name and reputation with such an accusation.”
“But why would you have done it at all?” How could anyone let Tris go willingly.
“I want my husband to look at me the way Lord Trevor looks at you, Violet.” Tears started from Dora’s eyes. “I believe I deserve at least that much happiness in life.”
“Of course you do.” Violet sped to her and threw her arms around her, clinging to her, comforting her as best she could. Her friend had done a brave and generous deed. Certainly such a sacrifice would merit reward. “You will find a man who is good and kind and whose face lights up like a summer morning just because you enter a room.”
“Do you think so, truly?” Dora wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
“With all my heart.” Violet hugged her again. Someone as good and selfless must find the perfect man. She herself could do nothing, save pray each night to the Almighty and trust such prayers would be answered. “You must stop crying, my dear, or you will have me caterwauling as well. And I must be gone quickly, before your brother awakens and tries to stop me.” A teardrop fell onto her bare shoulder where Tris’s coat had fallen away.
“Hunh. From what I saw down stairs, Lord Trevor won’t let him touch a hair on your head.” Dora stepped back, eyeing Violet as she clutched the coat to her bosom. “Here.” She thrust a gown at Violet. “You must change. It would be most scandalous to be seen leaving the house in such a state.” Waving her hand at Violet’s forlorn apparel, she leaned forward and whispered, “My aunt would be most thrilled.”
“Thank you.” Violet managed a smile and took the garment into her dressing room, grateful her new stays laced up the front. She could dress herself without Dora’s help. A few minutes later she emerged in a tailored gray traveling suit of wool, and a hat of deep wine red perched on the back of her head.
Dora let the lid of the trunk fall with a solid thunk. “I believe those are all your things. If I or the maids find anything after you go, I’ll make sure it finds its way to you.”
She grasped her friend’s hands. “Dora, I cannot thank you enough. You have my oath I will entreat Lord Trevor to spare your brother if it is humanly possible. I do not know what skill he has with the sword, however—”
“I hope he kills the cur.”
An icy finger skittered down her spine and Violet jerked back, appalled at the vehemence and malice in Dora’s voice. “Surely, you do not mean that?”
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bsp; “Only with every ounce of feeling I possess.” Dora stiffened, but waved the death of her brother away as a matter of little consequence. “You are not the only one he has assaulted. As Lord Trevor surmised earlier, Simon has attacked both Miss Martin and Miss Giles. I’ll wager my horse on it.” She met her eyes with a piercing gaze and Violet trembled, a sudden premonition sweeping through her. “Simon is the reason Judith is still abed.”
“What?” All the air rushed from Violet’s lungs. From the family’s earlier comments, she’d thought Mrs. Harper ill with some incurable disease.
“They had an argument in November, while we were in London.” She continued to twist her hands until her fingers looked knotted. “I happened to be in the corridor outside their apartments. I had come to ask Judith to ride with me. I heard voices raised. Judith was upset because Simon had gone to that…that pleasure house.” Her cheeks flushed bright pink. The poor girl would have little innocence left by the end of the day.
Violet grasped her hand and gave a comforting squeeze.
“I heard a sharp slap and a thud. Then Simon called out for help.” Dora wiped tears away from her face once more. “He gave out she had tripped and hit her head on the marble hearth. But he hit her, Violet, knocked her down and when she fell, her head struck the ornate andiron. Her right temple was bruised for a week. She’s lain in the bed ever since. She doesn’t know anyone, doesn’t speak. She barely takes any nourishment. She used to be so pretty, so vivacious. I always wanted to be like her.” The stare Dora turned on Violet made her blood freeze. “I pray Lord Trevor kills the monster who did that to Judith.”
If Violet had one regret in leaving this house, it was abandoning Dora. No one seemed to care about her. She clasped her hands. “That must rest in God’s hands. I will pray for a miracle for your sister-in-law that she will recover.” The words seemed pitifully inadequate, but she could do nothing else.
“Best pray too I find a husband who will take me away from here.” Dora’s grim-set mouth and sad eyes smote Violet anew.
“I will with all my heart.” She squeezed Dora’s hand one last time. “Much as I hate to leave you, I fear I must go. Lord Trevor is below—”
“Yes, yes. Please. You must go.” Dora broke from her and bent, hiding her face while fastening the trunk. “I believe that is everything.”
“Yes.” After peering about the room for any forgotten item, Violet at last looked toward the doorway. “Will you say my goodbyes to Anna? I don’t wish to wake her, but neither do I want her to think ill of me for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“Of course. I will tell her your true love took you away, like in the fairy tales.” Dora smiled bitterly. “I think she will enjoy thinking such things can happen in real life.” She embraced Violet fiercely. “I know I do. I wish you and Lord Trevor every happiness.”
Tears started from Violet’s eyes. She gave one last squeeze and stepped away. “Goodbye, my friend.”
“Goodbye.” Dora swallowed hard.
Heading for the door to call a footman, she halted at the threshold. “My harp. What must I do—”
“I will take good care of it until I can send it to you in London,” Dora said, coming to push her out the door. “Go. Your true love awaits.”
Laughing, Violet raced down the staircase. True to his word, Tris stood exactly where she’d left him in the foyer, pacing the polished floor.
He looked up at her and the scowl on his face turned into a wide grin.
All the horror and strife of the day were whisked away as the love shining in his eyes melted her heart. She faltered on the stairs, the enormity of her change in circumstances overwhelming her. Then she pounded down them, straight into Tris’s arms.
“Did you pack everything in the house?” he grumbled, stepping back after an embrace that left her giddy. She handed him his coat.
“I had to say goodbye to Dora.”
“Indeed.” He paused in the act of slipping his arms into his jacket. With a shake of his head, he settled the garment over his broad shoulders. “I’d have expected her to give you a wide berth and the rough side of her tongue, if she has one.”
“You might be surprised, my lord.” Violet chuckled.
His eyebrows shot up, however, instead of pursuing the subject, he snapped his fingers at a passing footman. “Fetch Miss Carlton’s trunk from the nursery. Take it to my carriage out front.”
“Right away, my lord.” The servant hurried up the stairs.
“Your cloak, my lord.” Eccles appeared with both Tris’s and Violet’s outer garments.
“Thank you.” Tris shrugged into his and gently settled Violet’s new blue wool cape around her shoulders.
The bustle of activity swirled around her, but time seemed to have slowed. She could focus on nothing but the fact she was leaving with Tris, who was not marrying Dora.
He took her by the elbow and escorted her into the carriage, then supervised the loading of her trunk and his before settling himself in the seat beside her. With a rap on the trap, Tris sank back on the soft leather seat. A jerk as the coachman started the horses and Harper’s Grange faded behind her.
“You look frozen, love.” Grasping her hands, Tris raised them, and blew on her frigid fingers.
In her haste she’d forgotten her gloves. She’d never believed gloves could keep the hands so warm, but her fingers were like ice, just coming from the house to the carriage. Now, however, his hot breath on her skin sent warmth pulsing all through her.
“Oh, Tris.” Heart too full for anything else, her head spun as he began kissing her fingers one by one, firing off sparks that hurtled straight to her core. To have his mouth on her body again was to gain heaven. Fire erupted at the apex of her thighs. Though a moment ago she’d been cold head to toe, she would swear her body had turned a scalding red from the attentions of his lips.
He grinned wickedly, assuring her the rising temperature wasn’t imagination.
Her face was doubtless cherry red, and the warmth radiated throughout her body, arms, and legs. She’d be tearing off her cape soon, trying to cool down.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?”
“A thousand times better.” She could drown in the blue pools of his eyes. “I haven’t thanked you properly for rescuing me.”
“Believe me, love, it was completely my pleasure.” He engulfed her hand in both of his, sending her pulse leaping. “Had Harper not given me an excuse to punch him, I’d have invented one. The man’s a bully and a bounder. Not fit for the society of decent women.”
“He struck his wife, according to Dora.” She loosed her hand and sat back. The soaring heat in her blood subsided. “She hit her head and has been insensible ever since. Such a shame, too. She’d been Dora’s only friend in the house.”
“Damn.” He rubbed his jaw. “Forgive me. Downing gave it to me she was recovering from a wasting fever. I suppose he must defend his blighter of a son. Or cover up the more sordid details.” His face sobered. “At least I may put an end to his tyranny day after tomorrow.”
“You will fight to the death?” All of the recent warmth leeched from her, leaving her frozen on the seat.
“I will confer with Duncan when he arrives, hopefully late tomorrow.”
The name of the marquess who killed her cousin always brought a taste of metal to her mouth. She understood with her head the man had to defend his sister’s good name, and God only knew what had prompted Kit to insult her in the first place. But her heart had not yet forgiven Lord Dalbury. Tris’s forgiveness was altogether different. How could she hate her own leg or eye or heart? He was bone of her bone, and now she could lose him once more in this duel. Might as well put a ball through her head or a sword through her breast.
“I sent to him as soon as I left Downing’s library, while you were upstairs changing. My valet, Saunders, should make good time this evening. There is a full moon so I expect him to make Reading at the least. If he’s
up and on the road by first light he will reach Dunham House by tomorrow afternoon. Duncan and Manning can leave first thing on Tuesday morning.”
“They won’t want to leave immediately tomorrow?” With such urgency as the situation warranted, she’d expected them to travel through the night as well.
“Ah, well, I have given Duncan a commission he must needs wait to perform.” Tris’s face lay in somber lines.
A prickle of fear inched down her back. Had he sent to make a will? Her stomach churned and her gorge rose. She seized his hands and drew him close, staring into his eyes not an inch from hers. “Promise me you will not fight to the death, Tris. Will honor not be served just as well without your life hanging in the balance?”
“Fear not, my love.” He cupped her cheek, the warm skin of his naked hand like a benediction to her soul. “I will make sure my life is long enough to satisfy us both.”
“You cannot claim immortality, my dear, and that alone would satisfy my hunger for you.” Violet pressed his hand tighter against her cheek, then placed a deep kiss on his palm.
He groaned, a deep, haunted sound, and grabbed her head with both hands, bringing their mouths together.
The kiss seared her, shooting flames of lust to her toes.
He made a slight adjustment to the angle of their heads and their lips melded, soft skin to soft skin, in perfect harmony.
A growl started deep in her throat. They had been too long apart. Denied their love too long. She opened her lips and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He tasted like sweet wine and brandy, an intoxicating mix. She pressed closer, wanting to feel all of him.
He sighed, and drew her into his lap. Their tongues tangled in a glorious duel of their own, the only conflict she might be willing to lose.
Her body steamed, as though the sun had pierced the dark night and shone only upon her, bringing its warmth, making her pulse with need. She never wanted to let him go.
The carriage slowed.
Tris gently disengaged them.
“No. No, Tris.” Her hunger had scarcely begun to flame, much less be appeased by such a brief caress. She pressed against him, seeking his mouth again.
