Haunting Violet
Page 35
“Uncle Jasper!” Elizabeth said triumphantly. “And he’s alone. Perfect.”
“We shouldn’t disturb him.” I wasn’t sure why I felt so uncertain. And I was annoyed with Colin that his vague warnings were making me hesitate.
“Don’t be a goose. How else are we to get information? This way we can ask him as many impertinent questions as we like. He never minds.”
The glass house was warm and humid, all moist earth and fragrant blossoms. There was a bank of lilies and several shelves of roses in painted pots. Even in winter Rosefield would live up to its name. Clay pots big enough to hide a grown man inside cradled ficus trees, hibiscus, and pineapple plants. Lord Jasper walked up and down the narrow aisles, cane thumping rhythmically and large leaves brushing his shoulders.
“Ah, girls!” he said, glancing at us though I had no idea how he might have known we were there. We hadn’t made any noise. “Good morning, then.”
“Good morning, Uncle Jasper,” Elizabeth said, poking her finger into a pot. She grimaced at the dirt when it clung to her nail. I folded my hands at my waist and dropped a polite curtsy. I had a hard time meeting Lord Jasper’s gaze.
“Are you enjoying your stay, Miss Violet?” he asked. “I can call you Violet, can’t I?”
I nodded. “Of course, your lordship.”
“Your mother’s sitting ought to be even more spectacular than our little country ball was last night.” He was looking at me carefully, shrewdly.
I made a noncommittal sound as Elizabeth stroked the thick leaves of a peace lily.
“Perhaps you and Violet might want to take the horses out?” Lord Jasper snipped off a few wilted fronds from a nearby fern.
I’d never learned to ride, which was a necessary accomplishment for all young ladies of the peerage, but we couldn’t afford to keep a horse. I was getting tired of navigating the cramped alleys left to us by the lies, by the state of our finances, by everything, really. The guilt sat like spoiled milk in my mouth.
“It’s very kind of you to offer, Lord Jasper,” I rushed in before Elizabeth, easily sidetracked, could accept. “But we’ve decided on a walk and I shouldn’t like to trouble your groom.” To be more precise, I had no wish to trouble him by landing in a heap at his feet.
“Excellent. Perhaps you might ask Tabitha to join you?”
Elizabeth slid me a knowing, triumphant glance. “But Tabitha is so vexing.” She pouted at her godfather.
“She’s still grieving,” he reminded her. “You know how her family has suffered.”
She nodded, twirling a rose in her hand until the petals drifted to the floor. They looked like blood on the white stones. “She may as well be a nun now.” She sighed, and there was real sadness in the sound. “I liked Rowena,” she added softly.
Lord Jasper merely patted her hand.
After a long silent moment she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “I was away with Maman then,” she tried again. “We went to Paris for the summer,” she explained for my benefit. “I never did hear any details.” Her brown eyes were utterly guileless and as innocent as a kitten’s. She might have tread the boards at Drury Lane with that kind of playacting. We abandoned eye contact when I had to swallow a nervous giggle and her lips twitched. I stared hard at an elegant pink orchid growing out of a round pot, fighting another untoward giggle. Elizabeth surreptitiously pinched me before turning to her godfather expectantly.
“Uncle?”
“Yes, dear?”
She tilted her head. I could tell she was curious as to why Lord Jasper was suddenly being so evasive and absent-minded. It wasn’t like him at all—even I knew that. “How did Rowena die?” she pressed.
“She drowned.”
“But she knew how to swim,” she said. “We used to sneak out sometimes when it was too hot to do anything else.”
He looked at her steadily. “Promise me you won’t go to the pond by yourself. Both of you. And stay away from Whitestone altogether. They’ve troubles enough.”
We exchanged a brief glance. I tucked the little book farther into my pocket.
“Unc—”
“Promise me!” His cane smacked the ground for emphasis.
We both nodded, even though I knew full well we were lying.
“Good. Go on, now, girls. Enjoy the sunshine.”
We turned to go but Elizabeth paused, turning back. “But what about the bruises around her throat?” she asked quietly.
A heavy silence filled the room, making the air feel like molasses. I held my breath. Lord Jasper took two big steps toward us, his face stern. I had to fight not to scramble backward. He could be remarkably intimidating for an aging lord who spent his days at Spiritualist lectures and drinking port at his clubs.
“Where did you hear about that?” he demanded.
Elizabeth shrank a little. “N-nowhere. Really.”
His pale gaze speared me. “Violet?”
I just shook my head mutely. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. His eyes narrowed. He all but barked at us.
“Leave it alone, girls. Or I’ll send you both straight back to London.”
CHAPTER 11
We stared at each other as Lord Jasper stalked out of the conservatory and back to the house. We followed at a slower pace, crossing the lawn toward the gardening shed. Birds sang from the hedgerows. A grasshopper bumped off my knee, disoriented.
Elizabeth linked her arm through mine, shivering. “I’ve never seen him like that,” she murmured. “He’s hiding something.”
“We shouldn’t disturb him.” I wasn’t sure why I felt so uncertain. And I was annoyed with Colin that his vague warnings were making me hesitate.
“Don’t be a goose. How else are we to get information? This way we can ask him as many impertinent questions as we like. He never minds.”
The glass house was warm and humid, all moist earth and fragrant blossoms. There was a bank of lilies and several shelves of roses in painted pots. Even in winter Rosefield would live up to its name. Clay pots big enough to hide a grown man inside cradled ficus trees, hibiscus, and pineapple plants. Lord Jasper walked up and down the narrow aisles, cane thumping rhythmically and large leaves brushing his shoulders.
“Ah, girls!” he said, glancing at us though I had no idea how he might have known we were there. We hadn’t made any noise. “Good morning, then.”
“Good morning, Uncle Jasper,” Elizabeth said, poking her finger into a pot. She grimaced at the dirt when it clung to her nail. I folded my hands at my waist and dropped a polite curtsy. I had a hard time meeting Lord Jasper’s gaze.
“Are you enjoying your stay, Miss Violet?” he asked. “I can call you Violet, can’t I?”
I nodded. “Of course, your lordship.”
“Your mother’s sitting ought to be even more spectacular than our little country ball was last night.” He was looking at me carefully, shrewdly.
I made a noncommittal sound as Elizabeth stroked the thick leaves of a peace lily.
“Perhaps you and Violet might want to take the horses out?” Lord Jasper snipped off a few wilted fronds from a nearby fern.
I’d never learned to ride, which was a necessary accomplishment for all young ladies of the peerage, but we couldn’t afford to keep a horse. I was getting tired of navigating the cramped alleys left to us by the lies, by the state of our finances, by everything, really. The guilt sat like spoiled milk in my mouth.
“It’s very kind of you to offer, Lord Jasper,” I rushed in before Elizabeth, easily sidetracked, could accept. “But we’ve decided on a walk and I shouldn’t like to trouble your groom.” To be more precise, I had no wish to trouble him by landing in a heap at his feet.
“Excellent. Perhaps you might ask Tabitha to join you?”
Elizabeth slid me a knowing, triumphant glance. “But Tabitha is so vexing.” She pouted at her godfather.
“She’s still grieving,” he reminded her. “You know how her family has suffered.”
She nodded, twirling a rose in her hand until the petals drifted to the floor. They looked like blood on the white stones. “She may as well be a nun now.” She sighed, and there was real sadness in the sound. “I liked Rowena,” she added softly.
Lord Jasper merely patted her hand.
After a long silent moment she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “I was away with Maman then,” she tried again. “We went to Paris for the summer,” she explained for my benefit. “I never did hear any details.” Her brown eyes were utterly guileless and as innocent as a kitten’s. She might have tread the boards at Drury Lane with that kind of playacting. We abandoned eye contact when I had to swallow a nervous giggle and her lips twitched. I stared hard at an elegant pink orchid growing out of a round pot, fighting another untoward giggle. Elizabeth surreptitiously pinched me before turning to her godfather expectantly.
“Uncle?”
“Yes, dear?”
She tilted her head. I could tell she was curious as to why Lord Jasper was suddenly being so evasive and absent-minded. It wasn’t like him at all—even I knew that. “How did Rowena die?” she pressed.
“She drowned.”
“But she knew how to swim,” she said. “We used to sneak out sometimes when it was too hot to do anything else.”
He looked at her steadily. “Promise me you won’t go to the pond by yourself. Both of you. And stay away from Whitestone altogether. They’ve troubles enough.”
We exchanged a brief glance. I tucked the little book farther into my pocket.
“Unc—”
“Promise me!” His cane smacked the ground for emphasis.
We both nodded, even though I knew full well we were lying.
“Good. Go on, now, girls. Enjoy the sunshine.”
We turned to go but Elizabeth paused, turning back. “But what about the bruises around her throat?” she asked quietly.
A heavy silence filled the room, making the air feel like molasses. I held my breath. Lord Jasper took two big steps toward us, his face stern. I had to fight not to scramble backward. He could be remarkably intimidating for an aging lord who spent his days at Spiritualist lectures and drinking port at his clubs.
“Where did you hear about that?” he demanded.
Elizabeth shrank a little. “N-nowhere. Really.”
His pale gaze speared me. “Violet?”
I just shook my head mutely. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. His eyes narrowed. He all but barked at us.
“Leave it alone, girls. Or I’ll send you both straight back to London.”
CHAPTER 11
We stared at each other as Lord Jasper stalked out of the conservatory and back to the house. We followed at a slower pace, crossing the lawn toward the gardening shed. Birds sang from the hedgerows. A grasshopper bumped off my knee, disoriented.
Elizabeth linked her arm through mine, shivering. “I’ve never seen him like that,” she murmured. “He’s hiding something.”
