Haunting Violet
Page 36
“Something definitely isn’t right.” I chewed on my lower lip. “Perhaps this is more dangerous than we thought. Perhaps you oughtn’t try it with me?”
“Pfft,” she exclaimed. Well, it was more of a rush of breath than an exclamation, but it conveyed her meaning clearly enough.
“We’ll have to be careful,” I said, taking out the little hardbound book from my pocket. It might not look like much, but the leather was worn, the spine loose from many readings. Someone had clearly read it more than once.
“Careful about what?” a voice called out suspiciously. I froze, stifling a groan. I knew that voice all too well, and the tone. I knew before looking that Colin had his eyes narrowed.
“Nothing,” I said pointedly.
Colin was behind the shed, leaning back against a tree. Frederic sat on a stone nearby, resting his arms on his knees, a flask in his hand. Another young man near their age stood nearby, smirking.
“Rowena’s old beau,” Elizabeth hissed at me. “Peter Burlington, eldest son of the Earl of Berkeley. Beastly temper when he doesn’t get his way.”
Peter was handsome, smoldering. But I didn’t like the way he looked at me, as if I were an iced scone fresh from the oven.
“And Rowena loved him?”
“Hardly. Oh, she liked him well enough, but it was their fathers who were well and truly enamored of each other and the connections they’d make marrying their children off to each other. Even her uncle approved, but only because there was still Tabitha at home, wanting several Seasons to meet eligible young men and show off her gowns. He only has access to the Wentworth fortune while he’s their guardian.”
Frederic straightened, took a large swallow, and handed the flask to Colin, whom he wouldn’t even have noticed anywhere else but was certainly happy enough to while away the hours with at a country party. He stood and executed a sloppy bow. “Ladies.” He grinned unrepentantly. “What are you whispering about?”
Elizabeth straightened immediately, combing the curls off her face. “Frederic.” She sniffed once. “Are you drinking Madeira?” she asked, aghast, neatly changing the subject. “At this hour?” It was barely noon and they were clearly already foxed.
He shrugged as Colin took a gulp and passed the flask back.
“Bloody little else to do around here,” Peter drawled.
I knew that drawl.
I’d heard it in the garden coaxing Caroline for a kiss.
One mystery solved, several more presented. Why was Mr. Travis spying on them? And what did an earl’s son and a governess have to whisper about in the dead of night? Did Caroline know something about Rowena’s demise that she wasn’t telling anyone? Or did Peter, who apparently had a beastly temper? I’d have to ask Elizabeth, but for the moment I’d lost her to Frederic’s questionable charms.
“You hate Madeira,” she said to him.
He blinked at her. “How do you know that?”
She shrugged, blushing. “Are you enjoying your stay?”
Peter laughed. “He’d be enjoying it more if Tabitha’s uncle hadn’t just booted him off the estate.”
Elizabeth’s smile slipped. “You went to see Tabitha? Why?”
Frederic shrugged. “She’s pretty, rich, and bored.”
“Like you,” I muttered under my breath.
“Wentworth wouldn’t hear of it though,” Peter added.
“He booted us both off, if you’ll recall,” Frederic felt compelled to say. “He didn’t exactly ask you into the library for a glass of port, old boy.”
Colin straightened away from the oak as the two boys bickered. “Pretty Violet,” he said. “What are you up to?”
I tried not to blush as well. It wouldn’t do for both Elizabeth and me to giggle and tumble like lovesick puppies. Besides, it certainly didn’t matter a whit to me if Colin thought I was pretty. Really.
I scowled.
“Solemn little flower,” he said, too softly for the others to hear. He reached out and traced the lines on my brow. I had to swallow, my throat inexplicably dry. I thought for one wild moment that he was going to lean over and kiss me, right there in front of everyone.
Xavier was about to propose. He was the one I ought to be kissing.
Still, Colin was close enough that I could smell the sweet wine on his breath. And then, just as I wondered how much closer we were going to get, he reached out and snagged the book from my hand, quick as a spring storm. I made a grab for it, but too late. “Damn it, Colin.”
He clucked his tongue. “Such language for a young lady.”
“I am about to kick you in the shin.”
He ignored me, reading the book’s title. I lifted my chin. I had no reason to feel embarrassed or vulnerable. So there.
“What are you up to?” he asked me quietly.
I flashed him a brief and patently insincere smile, which basically amounted to me baring my teeth like a wild dog. I snatched the book back. “Nothing,” I declared with false dignity. I stuck my nose up in the air for good measure as I grabbed Elizabeth’s hand. “We are taking a turn about the gardens.”
He took a step toward me. “Violet.”
I hurried away. I did not like how my breath was suddenly hot in my chest.
“He’s very handsome,” Elizabeth whispered. “I never noticed. Even with the accent.”
I didn’t reply.
“You two bicker like brother and sister.”
“Pfft,” she exclaimed. Well, it was more of a rush of breath than an exclamation, but it conveyed her meaning clearly enough.
“We’ll have to be careful,” I said, taking out the little hardbound book from my pocket. It might not look like much, but the leather was worn, the spine loose from many readings. Someone had clearly read it more than once.
“Careful about what?” a voice called out suspiciously. I froze, stifling a groan. I knew that voice all too well, and the tone. I knew before looking that Colin had his eyes narrowed.
“Nothing,” I said pointedly.
Colin was behind the shed, leaning back against a tree. Frederic sat on a stone nearby, resting his arms on his knees, a flask in his hand. Another young man near their age stood nearby, smirking.
“Rowena’s old beau,” Elizabeth hissed at me. “Peter Burlington, eldest son of the Earl of Berkeley. Beastly temper when he doesn’t get his way.”
Peter was handsome, smoldering. But I didn’t like the way he looked at me, as if I were an iced scone fresh from the oven.
“And Rowena loved him?”
“Hardly. Oh, she liked him well enough, but it was their fathers who were well and truly enamored of each other and the connections they’d make marrying their children off to each other. Even her uncle approved, but only because there was still Tabitha at home, wanting several Seasons to meet eligible young men and show off her gowns. He only has access to the Wentworth fortune while he’s their guardian.”
Frederic straightened, took a large swallow, and handed the flask to Colin, whom he wouldn’t even have noticed anywhere else but was certainly happy enough to while away the hours with at a country party. He stood and executed a sloppy bow. “Ladies.” He grinned unrepentantly. “What are you whispering about?”
Elizabeth straightened immediately, combing the curls off her face. “Frederic.” She sniffed once. “Are you drinking Madeira?” she asked, aghast, neatly changing the subject. “At this hour?” It was barely noon and they were clearly already foxed.
He shrugged as Colin took a gulp and passed the flask back.
“Bloody little else to do around here,” Peter drawled.
I knew that drawl.
I’d heard it in the garden coaxing Caroline for a kiss.
One mystery solved, several more presented. Why was Mr. Travis spying on them? And what did an earl’s son and a governess have to whisper about in the dead of night? Did Caroline know something about Rowena’s demise that she wasn’t telling anyone? Or did Peter, who apparently had a beastly temper? I’d have to ask Elizabeth, but for the moment I’d lost her to Frederic’s questionable charms.
“You hate Madeira,” she said to him.
He blinked at her. “How do you know that?”
She shrugged, blushing. “Are you enjoying your stay?”
Peter laughed. “He’d be enjoying it more if Tabitha’s uncle hadn’t just booted him off the estate.”
Elizabeth’s smile slipped. “You went to see Tabitha? Why?”
Frederic shrugged. “She’s pretty, rich, and bored.”
“Like you,” I muttered under my breath.
“Wentworth wouldn’t hear of it though,” Peter added.
“He booted us both off, if you’ll recall,” Frederic felt compelled to say. “He didn’t exactly ask you into the library for a glass of port, old boy.”
Colin straightened away from the oak as the two boys bickered. “Pretty Violet,” he said. “What are you up to?”
I tried not to blush as well. It wouldn’t do for both Elizabeth and me to giggle and tumble like lovesick puppies. Besides, it certainly didn’t matter a whit to me if Colin thought I was pretty. Really.
I scowled.
“Solemn little flower,” he said, too softly for the others to hear. He reached out and traced the lines on my brow. I had to swallow, my throat inexplicably dry. I thought for one wild moment that he was going to lean over and kiss me, right there in front of everyone.
Xavier was about to propose. He was the one I ought to be kissing.
Still, Colin was close enough that I could smell the sweet wine on his breath. And then, just as I wondered how much closer we were going to get, he reached out and snagged the book from my hand, quick as a spring storm. I made a grab for it, but too late. “Damn it, Colin.”
He clucked his tongue. “Such language for a young lady.”
“I am about to kick you in the shin.”
He ignored me, reading the book’s title. I lifted my chin. I had no reason to feel embarrassed or vulnerable. So there.
“What are you up to?” he asked me quietly.
I flashed him a brief and patently insincere smile, which basically amounted to me baring my teeth like a wild dog. I snatched the book back. “Nothing,” I declared with false dignity. I stuck my nose up in the air for good measure as I grabbed Elizabeth’s hand. “We are taking a turn about the gardens.”
He took a step toward me. “Violet.”
I hurried away. I did not like how my breath was suddenly hot in my chest.
“He’s very handsome,” Elizabeth whispered. “I never noticed. Even with the accent.”
I didn’t reply.
“You two bicker like brother and sister.”
