Haunting Violet
Page 31
And I wished I was the kind of girl to be swept away into the moment.
CHAPTER 9
I woke early the next morning again. It was becoming a very bad habit.
Luckily Elizabeth was the only one in the breakfast room. She ducked teasingly when I took a piece of toasted bread and reached for the jam pot. I stuck out my tongue at her. It was so much more pleasant without the adults about or girls who sat up straight and smiled demurely even when they were alone. Elizabeth yawned hugely. I was exhausted too. I should have been still abed, cozy under the counterpane. We chewed between more yawns.
The sun was glistening on the last of the dewdrops when we decided to go for a walk over the hills. It was warm already and the birds sang cheerfully from the hedgerows. We left behind the roses and the hydrangea and the oak trees, cutting through the green fields.
“I can’t believe he kissed you!” Elizabeth exclaimed once we were carefully out of earshot. We were the only ones for miles it seemed, the house sitting sleepily on the hill behind us. It made me want to tear off my petticoats and run until my legs burned or spin in circles until I fell down.
“I know.” I could still feel his hands on my neck, smell the smoke and leaf of him.
“It’s so romantic. And he’s handsome. Not as handsome as Frederic,” Elizabeth said as we walked arm in arm. “But still a very good-looking young man, don’t you think? And his family’s quite rich.”
Xavier. She’d been talking about Xavier, not Colin.
“Quite handsome,” I agreed. Xavier really was handsome in his navy frock coat and gold pocket watch.
“Do you really think he’s going to propose?”
My stomach tingled, not unpleasantly. “Maybe. Why else would he want to speak to my mother?”
Elizabeth squealed and hugged me. Then she jumped up and down. Laughing, I jumped up and down with her, seeing as she was still holding on to me.
“Oh, what will you wear? Will you carry flowers?” I wasn’t going to tell her we couldn’t afford a new dress. I’d just have to wear my best gown and hope not too many people noticed I’d worn it before. “You’d look lovely with orange blossoms in your hair.”
“I think lilacs would be nice,” I said, letting myself get distracted with the details. We would have a wedding breakfast with lemon cake sprinkled with sugared violets. Mother would wear white, like a proper Spiritualist, instead of her customary black. Elizabeth would be my bridesmaid.
“A spring wedding then. Perfect.” She sighed again, her whole body heaving with emotion. “I wish I were engaged.”
“I’m not engaged!”
“Not yet, Mrs. Trethewey.” She giggled. I would be Mrs. Xavier Trethewey. I’d always found it a little curious that I should go by a man’s first name. Violet Trethewey. I giggled too. I felt as if there were champagne bubbles in my throat.
“Perhaps he’ll take you to the opera,” she added as the damp grass soaked the bottoms of our day dresses. “And oh! Perhaps you’ll go to Italy for your wedding trip! I’ve always longed to see Rome. You could get heaps of new gowns made. You’ll be so fashionable. Though it would have been nice if we’d been able to have our come-out together.”
“Elizabeth,” I said gently. “I’m not from the peerage. I wouldn’t have been making my curtsy to the queen and coming out, regardless.” That much we’d never tried to hide.
“Oh.” She pouted. “Well, you still have to help me practice. How can we be expected to back out of the room with such a long train on our gowns? What if I fall over? What if I take the rest of the debutantes with me?”
We looked at each other and giggled. I could picture it perfectly.
We crested the last hill between us and the pond that glittered between Rosefield and Whitestone Manor. Fields full of fat sheep stretched out on either side. Valleys were dark crevices filled with oak trees and mushrooms. Closer to the pond, long grass waved, dotted with wild mint, buttercup, and lady’s-smock.
And a man standing in the lilies.
He was tall and thin, his shoulders bowed as if he were in pain. He shuddered violently, even from a distance.
Mr. Travis.
“What’s he doing there?” I asked Elizabeth.
She shook her head, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’s out for a walk?”
“To the pond where a girl drowned?” I frowned, suspicious. “I don’t like it.”
“He does look rather … odd.”
We approached quietly, descending the hill and climbing back up the slow incline to the pond. By the time we reached it, Mr. Travis was gone. I saw him cross into the woods that led back to Rosefield.
“Do we know why he’s here?” I asked as we stopped by the pond. “How did Lord Jasper come to know him?”
“His family lives in the village, I hear. His father’s a tailor or haberdasher or some such thing. I think he’s the only Spiritualist in the lot though. I can’t think how Rowena would have known him, though I admit I thought at first that he might be familiar.”
“How?”
“I can’t rightly place my finger on it. Perhaps it’s only my imagination. Mother has always claimed reading so many penny dreadful stories is bad for the disposition. And he’s not peerage, so she won’t allow an introduction, even here.”
Pale lilies nodded their heavy heads when the breeze rose around us briefly. The water was deep and dark. We stepped onto one of the large rocks on the bank, balancing carefully. All around us were hills crossed with low stone walls and Whitestone Manor glowing like the moon. I felt peaceful for the first time in days, despite Mr. Travis. I could spend all day here, watching the birds dive for water bugs, listening to the crickets, waiting for the odd brave bunny to hop out of hiding for a bite to eat.
CHAPTER 9
I woke early the next morning again. It was becoming a very bad habit.
Luckily Elizabeth was the only one in the breakfast room. She ducked teasingly when I took a piece of toasted bread and reached for the jam pot. I stuck out my tongue at her. It was so much more pleasant without the adults about or girls who sat up straight and smiled demurely even when they were alone. Elizabeth yawned hugely. I was exhausted too. I should have been still abed, cozy under the counterpane. We chewed between more yawns.
The sun was glistening on the last of the dewdrops when we decided to go for a walk over the hills. It was warm already and the birds sang cheerfully from the hedgerows. We left behind the roses and the hydrangea and the oak trees, cutting through the green fields.
“I can’t believe he kissed you!” Elizabeth exclaimed once we were carefully out of earshot. We were the only ones for miles it seemed, the house sitting sleepily on the hill behind us. It made me want to tear off my petticoats and run until my legs burned or spin in circles until I fell down.
“I know.” I could still feel his hands on my neck, smell the smoke and leaf of him.
“It’s so romantic. And he’s handsome. Not as handsome as Frederic,” Elizabeth said as we walked arm in arm. “But still a very good-looking young man, don’t you think? And his family’s quite rich.”
Xavier. She’d been talking about Xavier, not Colin.
“Quite handsome,” I agreed. Xavier really was handsome in his navy frock coat and gold pocket watch.
“Do you really think he’s going to propose?”
My stomach tingled, not unpleasantly. “Maybe. Why else would he want to speak to my mother?”
Elizabeth squealed and hugged me. Then she jumped up and down. Laughing, I jumped up and down with her, seeing as she was still holding on to me.
“Oh, what will you wear? Will you carry flowers?” I wasn’t going to tell her we couldn’t afford a new dress. I’d just have to wear my best gown and hope not too many people noticed I’d worn it before. “You’d look lovely with orange blossoms in your hair.”
“I think lilacs would be nice,” I said, letting myself get distracted with the details. We would have a wedding breakfast with lemon cake sprinkled with sugared violets. Mother would wear white, like a proper Spiritualist, instead of her customary black. Elizabeth would be my bridesmaid.
“A spring wedding then. Perfect.” She sighed again, her whole body heaving with emotion. “I wish I were engaged.”
“I’m not engaged!”
“Not yet, Mrs. Trethewey.” She giggled. I would be Mrs. Xavier Trethewey. I’d always found it a little curious that I should go by a man’s first name. Violet Trethewey. I giggled too. I felt as if there were champagne bubbles in my throat.
“Perhaps he’ll take you to the opera,” she added as the damp grass soaked the bottoms of our day dresses. “And oh! Perhaps you’ll go to Italy for your wedding trip! I’ve always longed to see Rome. You could get heaps of new gowns made. You’ll be so fashionable. Though it would have been nice if we’d been able to have our come-out together.”
“Elizabeth,” I said gently. “I’m not from the peerage. I wouldn’t have been making my curtsy to the queen and coming out, regardless.” That much we’d never tried to hide.
“Oh.” She pouted. “Well, you still have to help me practice. How can we be expected to back out of the room with such a long train on our gowns? What if I fall over? What if I take the rest of the debutantes with me?”
We looked at each other and giggled. I could picture it perfectly.
We crested the last hill between us and the pond that glittered between Rosefield and Whitestone Manor. Fields full of fat sheep stretched out on either side. Valleys were dark crevices filled with oak trees and mushrooms. Closer to the pond, long grass waved, dotted with wild mint, buttercup, and lady’s-smock.
And a man standing in the lilies.
He was tall and thin, his shoulders bowed as if he were in pain. He shuddered violently, even from a distance.
Mr. Travis.
“What’s he doing there?” I asked Elizabeth.
She shook her head, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’s out for a walk?”
“To the pond where a girl drowned?” I frowned, suspicious. “I don’t like it.”
“He does look rather … odd.”
We approached quietly, descending the hill and climbing back up the slow incline to the pond. By the time we reached it, Mr. Travis was gone. I saw him cross into the woods that led back to Rosefield.
“Do we know why he’s here?” I asked as we stopped by the pond. “How did Lord Jasper come to know him?”
“His family lives in the village, I hear. His father’s a tailor or haberdasher or some such thing. I think he’s the only Spiritualist in the lot though. I can’t think how Rowena would have known him, though I admit I thought at first that he might be familiar.”
“How?”
“I can’t rightly place my finger on it. Perhaps it’s only my imagination. Mother has always claimed reading so many penny dreadful stories is bad for the disposition. And he’s not peerage, so she won’t allow an introduction, even here.”
Pale lilies nodded their heavy heads when the breeze rose around us briefly. The water was deep and dark. We stepped onto one of the large rocks on the bank, balancing carefully. All around us were hills crossed with low stone walls and Whitestone Manor glowing like the moon. I felt peaceful for the first time in days, despite Mr. Travis. I could spend all day here, watching the birds dive for water bugs, listening to the crickets, waiting for the odd brave bunny to hop out of hiding for a bite to eat.
