Playing the Duke's Fiancée--A Victorian Historical Romance

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Playing the Duke's Fiancée--A Victorian Historical Romance Page 15

by Amanda McCabe


  ‘My Alfred does enjoy these machines and I admit I am curious. It looks very complicated! How clever you must be.’

  ‘Once you learn all the different parts, it’s not so very complicated. It’s just a process,’ Violet said. This had been the opportunity she had hoped for ever since setting out for Russia! Now it was here, she felt quite unaccountably nervous and she wished William was with her. ‘Would you like me to show you, Your Highness?’

  ‘Oh, yes, please.’

  As she showed the Grand Duchess how the plates worked, how to frame a scene in the viewfinder, Prince Alfred joined them, swaying on the blades of his skates as he took his fiancée’s hand. ‘Oh, you are lucky, Marie, getting a close look at such work! They’re quite the latest thing now, those little tripods.’

  ‘I do wish I had a camera like yours, sir,’ Violet said.

  ‘But it is quite amazing, Affie. I see why you enjoy it so,’ Maria said, peering into the viewfinder of the camera. ‘Imagine, images of right this moment preserved on these little plates. We can see this very afternoon forever!’

  ‘Perhaps once we’re settled in England, Miss Wilkins can give us lessons, and some day we can take photos of our children together,’ he said with an indulgent smile.

  Maria scoffed. ‘I do hope they won’t look like me, these poor children! Maybe like little English bulldogs.’

  ‘It’s all a matter of light and angles, Your Highness,’ Violet said. ‘Here, let me show you.’ She quickly gave the Grand Duchess a small ‘tour’ of the workings of her camera, how the plates captured the images, how they were later transformed in the darkroom to indeed capture any moment forever.

  ‘Amazing indeed,’ the Grand Duchess said.

  ‘Perhaps I could take a photograph now of you and the Prince? I won’t show it to anyone else when it’s finished, just the two of you,’ Violet suggested. The light did look just right, beaming down softly on the icy scene. Cold and clear and bright.

  Maria glanced at her fiancé. ‘I don’t know...’

  ‘Come, my dear, it will be fun.’ Prince Alfred playfully drew her close, his arm looped around her waist. She laughed and teased him, and her round face beneath her fur hat glowed in that perfect light.

  Violet hurried to set her plates and release the brass lens cover, and took the image as they beamed at each other. She knew it wouldn’t be sharp enough for an official portrait, but it was sweet and filled with a hopeful feeling she sincerely wished would come true for them. With the way the light slanted through the trees, and the curve of the Grand Duchess’s lips on a laugh, she didn’t think the lady looked in the slightest bit doglike.

  ‘I’ll develop them fully this afternoon, Your Highness, if I can find a proper darkroom.’

  ‘I’ll make sure you have all you need,’ she promised.

  ‘Ah, look, here comes your own sweetheart, Miss Wilkins,’ Prince Alfred teased. ‘We shan’t monopolise you any longer! Come, Marie, let’s skate a little longer and leave the lovebirds alone.’

  As the royal pair glided away, Violet saw William coming towards her along the riverbank, his own gleaming silver skates slung over his shoulder, his hands in his overcoat pockets in a way that was positively jaunty for her usually formal duke. He smiled, his eyes bright in the cold, his cheekbones flushed.

  ‘I see you’ve made friends with their Royal Highnesses,’ he said.

  ‘Friends? Not at all. But they were friendly. They let me take their photograph. Shall I take yours, too?’ She peered into her viewfinder, as if she could just snap one off, but he stepped sharply back, his hand raised, making her laugh.

  ‘You must let me take it one day,’ she said.

  ‘One day, maybe,’ he answered. ‘But right now we should skate. I doubt we’ll get many more such clear days here.’

  Violet nodded and sat down next to him to strap on her skates. He knelt down to knot her ribbons when her gloved fingers faltered. His touch was warm on her foot, his sandalwood scent clean on the breeze. She longed to reach out to touch the gleaming, windswept wave of his hair, to caress his cheek. He looked up at her, his smile darkening as if he’d read her thoughts, and she glanced away.

  Without a word, he helped her up and looped his arm around her waist, launching them off at the edge of the crowd. The hard strength of his arm against her thrilled her and made her feel safe at the same time. He spun her into a loop, making her laugh as the river blurred around her, the trees and people and palaces as one.

  ‘Oh, look at you, Vi, you are good at skating! And you said you were not at all.’ Lily laughed as she and Aidan swept past. ‘Come, figure of eight with me.’ She grabbed Violet’s hand, making her laugh even more, and spun them together until Violet was quite giddy with all the delight. Everything in that moment—her sister and Aidan, William and his smile, the glorious sky, the cold wind, the beauty of that strange city—it was all absolutely perfect. She wished it could go on forever, the laughter and fun and beauty. That she could live in this moment with them always.

  Aidan joined hands with her and Lily and they spun in a star, laughing and teasing. Violet glanced over her shoulder at William, who had dropped back. To her shock, he looked rather...sad. Not hard, not angry, not contemptuous of their high jinks, just wistful. She felt a cold pang deep inside. Did he think of his lost love?

  ‘Will, what is it?’ she said. ‘Come, join us!’

  He shook his head wonderingly. ‘You—you’re a family. A real family.’

  ‘And so are you.’ Lily laughed. ‘You are quite stuck with us Wilkins now, I fear.’

  And Lily, with that sweet open-heartedness Violet loved so much about her, reached out and grabbed his hand, drawing him into their ring. Violet took his other hand and he was a part of their perfect circle.

  ‘When I was a boy, my mother taught me how to make chains on the ice, like this.’ Aidan demonstrated an intricate step, back, toe, glide, while Lily and Violet laughed to imagine the very dignified Duchess doing such a thing. Or skating at all.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Aidan said. ‘You all try it! Hold on to me to make a line.’

  Lily held on to her husband and Violet held on to Lily. She felt William’s hands close around her waist, tight and warm and safe. She heard him laugh and the glow came back into the day.

  They dashed across the ice, lashing around, snapping back together, faster and faster. Violet laughed until she was hoarse, until she felt entirely giddy. It was wonderful! Lily and Aidan broke away to glide off hand in hand with Aidan insisting she had to rest even as she protested.

  ‘I feel more well than I ever have!’ Lily said, but she sat down next to her husband on one of the cushioned benches. The Tsarevna and Princess Alexandra, mothers many times over now, fussed around her with warm cider and iced apple cakes, sending for blankets, as Aidan hovered close.

  A brass band dressed in the red-and-gold imperial uniforms launched into a waltz and Prince Alfred and his fiancée swooped and twirled around the ice, followed by other young couples.

  ‘Shall we?’ William asked, offering Violet his hand. He smiled at the dancers, but he still seemed rather wistful, distant as he watched Aidan and Lily.

  But Violet still felt that fizzing energy inside of her, that strange up-and-down exhilaration that being near him always brought. She didn’t want to give that up just yet, didn’t want to lose the lovely day. ‘Thank you, yes.’

  His arm came close around her back, the other stretched out to clasp her gloved hand in his. He drew her much closer than they would be in any ballroom and, even through their heavy furs and velvets and woollens, she felt the length of his body against hers. Strong and warm, fitting against hers as if they had always been just like that.

  They spun slowly at first, finding their footing under themselves, gentle, lazy circles that seemed to lift her higher and higher off the ice, made her float in his arms.


  His touch tightened and then he did actually lift her, spinning her around and around until she laughed. The swirling snow, the dazzling bright white sunlight, the Easter-egg-coloured palaces, all blended into a rainbow around her. She held on to him, her one still point in the crazy world. Her one reality.

  ‘Oh, bravo, Vi!’ Lily applauded. ‘You could join the Imperial Ballet while you’re here.’

  ‘You’re just jealous at my grace and skill, Lily darling,’ Violet answered with mock haughtiness that gave way to helpless laughter.

  ‘Oh, yes. I shall never know grace and elegance again, ungainly cow that I am now.’ Lily sighed, patting her barely-there stomach under her furs.

  William slowly lowered Violet to her feet, holding on to her a moment until she was steady on her skates, and the bright blue sky still whirled above her. She held on tightly to his shoulders.

  She glanced up into his face, shadowed by the brim of his hat, the dark fur of his collar blown by the breeze against his jaw. He was giving her that solemn, all-penetrating look again, the one where she was sure he saw everything about her, every secret she had ever held, and she could see nothing of him.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Have I made a fool of myself again?’

  ‘Not at all. I just—you do have a nice family,’ he said quietly, roughly.

  Puzzled, Violet glanced at Lily, who was sipping her cider and happily gossiping with the Princesses. Aidan skated nearby in lazy loops. She thought of Rose, so far away, possibly in some kind of trouble, and she longed to have her twin close, as the others were.

  ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘They often drive me insane, but I am glad to have them. My sisters are always on my side, no matter what.’

  ‘It must be nice to have someone to rely on so absolutely. Someone to do battle for you, confide in you. Be happy for you.’

  Violet suddenly realised with a cold shock that William had nothing. Oh, he had hundreds of people depending on him and a few friends like Aidan who understood what responsibilities came with being a duke, but, apart from his sister, William was actually quite alone in the world. The thought made her heart ache for him, made her want to put her arms around him and hold him close. Yet he held himself so stiffly, so far apart even though he hadn’t moved, that she didn’t dare do anything. She just laid her fingertips against his sleeve and he flinched. But she refused to let go.

  ‘My sisters were often great trouble, I promise you,’ she said. ‘They steal your gowns and ruin your parasols and push you into the sea. Well, I’m sure your sibling would never have done such things to you. You have no parasols.’

  He laughed finally and she beamed at him. ‘My mother would have liked more children than two, I think, but she was of a sickly disposition.’

  The sainted Duchess, renowned for her duty even as she was ill. Maybe that was all she had needed, one perfect son and daughter and her duty. ‘And I think my parents would have liked a son, but my mother declared three children was enough. And it was not a problem, my father’s fortune is not entailed.’

  ‘But to have people around you who know you so well, who are always on your side—it must be useful.’

  ‘I suppose it is. They can tease and be dreadful, but heaven help anyone else who is mean to one of us! Listen, Will, you are perfectly welcome to come be a part of our family any time you like. If you can bear it. We quarrel and shout a lot, but there’s a lot of fun, too.’

  ‘That is kind of you to include me.’

  Violet laughed. ‘Not at all. When someone else is nearby, there isn’t as much name-calling or things thrown about. And Mother wouldn’t be able to push unwanted suitors my way.’

  He gave her an unreadable smile. ‘We cannot have that.’

  ‘No,’ she said, quite captured as she looked up into his eyes. ‘No, we can’t.’

  A bell rang out and the skaters glided off the ice to start taking off their skates and gather their noisy children and fur rugs and picnic baskets. It was time to dress for dinner, no doubt another eighty-course feast on gold and silver plates off brocade cloths, sparkling under massive Venetian glass chandeliers.

  ‘Will you ride in the carriage with me back to the palace?’ William said.

  Violet glanced at Lily and Aidan, who was helping his wife remove her skates as she caressed his hair, the two of them wrapped in their own world. ‘Yes, thank you. I should like a moment’s quiet!’ She bent down to remove her own skates and found the laces were hopelessly tangled. ‘Oh, drat this knot!’

  ‘Here, let me help.’ He knelt beside her and took her foot carefully on to his thigh. He drew off his glove to work at the knotted strap with his bare fingers, his touch brushing over her ankle lightly. Violet found her breath tight in her throat as she looked down at him.

  He laid aside the first skate and straightened the buttons on her kid boots. ‘All better?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘All better.’

  * * *

  Even though the palace was not far from the river, it was a slow journey back, with the long line of carriages and waggons bearing courtiers, chairs, skates, rugs and blankets, and the army of servants. Armed outriders rode alongside, and several of the fur-wrapped skaters had gone quiet, as if remembering the threats that always lingered around them in St Petersburg.

  But William didn’t mind the long ride with Violet. They were so seldom alone in a place like the dim quiet of a carriage, and he could watch her face, observe the light dusting of freckles on her nose, enjoy her bright eyes as she looked out of the window and receive her sudden smiles. He could listen to her soft breath, smell her flowery perfume, watch the play of sunlight over her cheeks. She was strangely quiet for her, as if the day had worn her out, or her own thoughts preoccupied her.

  He wanted to snatch her attention back to him, to ‘tire her out’ in another way, see her long legs amid the rumpled sheets of his bed, taste her lips against his again. He shook his head, trying to push away those thoughts, push away his burning need for this woman.

  ‘You are quiet,’ she said, almost as if she could read his thoughts. He certainly hoped she could not. ‘Did we Wilkins girls shock you with our silliness?’

  He smiled at her. ‘Not at all. Your family is charming, despite that ridiculous feather in your hat.’

  Violet laughed and blew at the rather bedraggled red feather, which brushed against her cheek. She impatiently tugged her hat off, loosening some of her curls from their pins, and tossed it out the window. ‘Better?’

  ‘Much.’ He reached out and gently smoothed her hair back, his fingers brushing against her soft skin. ‘I was just thinking of something a friend told me once.’

  A frown flickered over her brow. ‘Daisy?’

  He was rather surprised she had even remembered that sad tale. ‘No, someone quite different, an old friend. He told me I should be less serious all the time because life passes too fast. There are so many things to miss. Perhaps he was right. Maybe the world won’t smash to bits if I laugh at it once in a while. You’ve certainly shown me that. But I fear I don’t know how to be any other way.’

  Violet’s lips parted, as if his words startled her, and she leaned forward to take his hands between hers. Her touch was light, delicate, yet it seemed to reach through to his very heart. ‘Perhaps we should take this fun business slowly? Learning new lessons is never easy.’

  He smiled at her. How sweet she looked, peeking up at him earnestly from beneath her lashes as she proposed teaching him to have fun, but slowly. ‘Indeed, it is not.’

  She slid to the edge of the carriage seat until their knees brushed, and she looked into his eyes. They both sat very still, very straight-backed, and he nodded at her, as if waiting for a lesson. Yet he was mesmerised by her face, her parted lips, her wide eyes.

  ‘Yes, having fun is never as easy as it seems,’ she said.


  ‘It seems easy enough for you and for Aidan and your sister.’

  ‘Lily and I have always known each other and it seems as if Aidan has always been there, too. Teasing comes easily to us. Sometimes, I do wish...’

  ‘Wish what?’ he asked, curious.

  ‘That I could confide in them seriously, just as easily. They do love me, I know, and would listen to anything I wanted to tell them. But I am sometimes afraid to let my real hopes and fears see the light. I’m afraid to be teased about them. So I often keep them locked away.’

  ‘Oh, Violet,’ he said quietly. ‘I wish you would tell them to me, then. I would not tease, and once I am told a secret, by anyone, it is locked away forever in the Bourne oubliette.’

  Violet squealed. ‘You have an oubliette?’

  He laughed. ‘Not yet. But I can build one, if you like.’

  ‘How wonderful. Would you store your own secrets there?’

  He shrugged. ‘I have few of them.’

  ‘Oh, but you must have some secrets! Everyone does.’

  ‘Is that one of your lessons in fun?’

  ‘Life surely isn’t much fun if we don’t do something once in a while that we must keep secret.’

  They turned on to a narrow, darker lane, the gold dazzle of the palaces on their wide boulevards momentarily dimmed. The horses’ hooves were muffled, the slim walkways empty above drifts of snow.

  He slowly reached for her hands and leaned towards her, unable to resist any longer. ‘Perhaps we could have one of our own, then. A secret. Another one, I mean.’

  She went very still, her breath caught. He hardly dared to breathe himself. She squeezed her eyes shut and swayed towards him. His lips brushed hers, once, twice, like butterflies’ wings, before claiming them in a firm caress. Her hands clung to his forearms as she sighed, her lips parting beneath his.

  ‘See? You can teach me this, if I can teach you to have more fun,’ she whispered, and he smiled against her lips. The softness of her as she melted against him, the smell of her sweet perfume all around him—how could such things knock him so much off his feet, make him question everything he had lived by until that moment? He wanted her, needed her, more and more every time he saw her. Her laughter and energy and creativity, the very difference of her, the burning life within her. His unique Violet.

 

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