The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie
Page 87
Ainsley’s brow puckered. “But Ian . . .”
She looked worried. “I’ll speak to Beth,” Daniel said reassuringly. “All will be well.” He turned back to Violet. “Ian and Beth have three rather noisy children, though, Vi. Do you mind?”
If the children were anything like Gavina, who’d included Violet in every one of her rather entertaining conversations, Violet wouldn’t mind at all. “I like children,” she said.
Celine hesitated. “I’m not certain . . . My nerves . . . And a duke is so very civilized.”
“Then it’s settled,” Daniel broke in. “Violet will bed down at Ian and Beth’s, while her mum goes to Uncle Hart’s.”
Celine’s eyes widened. “Me, stay without Violet? I’ve never done without Violet before.”
Ainsley leaned forward and patted Celine’s knee. “No need to worry. The duke has plenty of servants to do every little thing for you. There’s even a servant who will ring a bell to summon another servant if you wish. You’ll feel like a queen.”
“Well.” Celine looked less fearful. “I suppose I can try. Violet will be nearby, will she?”
“Not far,” Ainsley said. “Good. This will resolve things nicely.”
Daniel tipped Violet a wink. They were conspiring—Daniel and his stepmother. About what, Violet wasn’t certain, but Daniel looked triumphant.
Chapter 24
“Ye anxious to rest and sleep?” Daniel asked Violet when they rolled away from the ducal mansion, where the remainder of the party had disembarked.
The tall house on Grosvenor Square had poured servants in black and white who’d descended on the first coach, then the second. The air had been full of voices—greetings, questions, orders.
The duke’s servants hadn’t behaved as Violet assumed they would. They were neither cowed nor fearful, scurrying or resentful. They welcomed Lord and Lady Cameron with energy, and one of the footmen swung Gavina up onto his shoulders. A maid came down the stairs leading a small boy by the hand. Ainsley exclaimed in joy and swept him up, never minding that his little boots were dirty.
Stuart, Violet surmised, Daniel’s half-brother. Cameron took his son from Ainsley after Stuart had finished kissing his mother, and swung him high.
When Daniel stepped down, Stuart sang out to him, and Daniel paused to take his hand and give him a loud kiss on the forehead. The footmen then surrounded Daniel, talking excitedly, asking him questions about the balloon crash in France, about what he’d do now.
Of the frightening duke, there was no sign. He and the duchess were out taking tea with a cabinet minister and his wife, the majordomo reported, and their young lordships were riding in the park with their riding master. They’d all be home soon.
A horde of maids surrounded Celine with a solicitation that pleased her. Violet had been a bit apprehensive about leaving her mother with strangers, but the servants were giving her every deference. Ainsley and Cameron would be staying here too. Celine liked Ainsley, and Mary agreed to remain to look after her instead of going with Violet.
And so Violet drove off alone with Daniel.
Ye anxious to rest and sleep? he’d asked. Not really. Everything was too new, too nerve-racking to let her calm. And now Violet had another household to meet, that of the elusive Lord Ian.
“I’m not tired at all,” Violet said.
“Then we’ll make a stop first before I get you settled. Bertram,” he called up to the coachman. “Just drop us at my house, will you? You can take Violet’s things on to Uncle Ian’s.”
“Yes, sir, Young Master Daniel,” Bertram said, and the coach swung around a corner.
“They’ll be calling me Young Master Daniel when I’m eighty.” Daniel sat back—next to Violet now. “Ah, well, I don’t really mind.”
Violet had met plenty of families in her travels. Because of her line of work, most of them had been torn by grief—wives losing husbands; mothers, sons; sisters, brothers. She’d also seen families like the Laniers, where one member believed in the spirit world and was tormented for that belief.
She’d rarely seen a family with as much camaraderie and acceptance as the Mackenzies. Violet hadn’t met the duke yet, or Lord Cameron’s other brothers or wives, but the way Ainsley and Daniel spoke of them made her know there was no envy or hatred between the Mackenzies. She’d seen families filled with jealousy, or bare tolerance of one another, or absolute sorrow. She rarely encountered families comfortable and at peace.
Daniel was lucky, so very lucky. Violet loved her mother, but she wasn’t easy friends with her. Violet was more like a lady’s companion, taking care of Celine, making decisions for her, living life for Celine’s comfort.
Not looking after Celine while they stayed in London, however long that might be, felt strange to Violet. Like an emptiness, a feeling she should be doing something but not quite putting her finger on what.
Daniel’s house wasn’t far from the duke’s. Violet knew London well, and she watched their progress south through darkening Mayfair, down Davies Street to Berkeley Square and around it to Hill Street.
The house the carriage halted in front of was tall like its neighbors, with a gray façade and white corner bricks. The door was black, with no knocker, indicating its owners were not in Town. There were no lights in the windows, no curtains in most of them either.
No servants came out the door to greet Daniel or welcome him home. Daniel climbed down by himself and reached up to hand out Violet. He pulled his valises from the back and told Bertram to drive on to Uncle Ian’s then return for them later.
She looked worried. “I’ll speak to Beth,” Daniel said reassuringly. “All will be well.” He turned back to Violet. “Ian and Beth have three rather noisy children, though, Vi. Do you mind?”
If the children were anything like Gavina, who’d included Violet in every one of her rather entertaining conversations, Violet wouldn’t mind at all. “I like children,” she said.
Celine hesitated. “I’m not certain . . . My nerves . . . And a duke is so very civilized.”
“Then it’s settled,” Daniel broke in. “Violet will bed down at Ian and Beth’s, while her mum goes to Uncle Hart’s.”
Celine’s eyes widened. “Me, stay without Violet? I’ve never done without Violet before.”
Ainsley leaned forward and patted Celine’s knee. “No need to worry. The duke has plenty of servants to do every little thing for you. There’s even a servant who will ring a bell to summon another servant if you wish. You’ll feel like a queen.”
“Well.” Celine looked less fearful. “I suppose I can try. Violet will be nearby, will she?”
“Not far,” Ainsley said. “Good. This will resolve things nicely.”
Daniel tipped Violet a wink. They were conspiring—Daniel and his stepmother. About what, Violet wasn’t certain, but Daniel looked triumphant.
Chapter 24
“Ye anxious to rest and sleep?” Daniel asked Violet when they rolled away from the ducal mansion, where the remainder of the party had disembarked.
The tall house on Grosvenor Square had poured servants in black and white who’d descended on the first coach, then the second. The air had been full of voices—greetings, questions, orders.
The duke’s servants hadn’t behaved as Violet assumed they would. They were neither cowed nor fearful, scurrying or resentful. They welcomed Lord and Lady Cameron with energy, and one of the footmen swung Gavina up onto his shoulders. A maid came down the stairs leading a small boy by the hand. Ainsley exclaimed in joy and swept him up, never minding that his little boots were dirty.
Stuart, Violet surmised, Daniel’s half-brother. Cameron took his son from Ainsley after Stuart had finished kissing his mother, and swung him high.
When Daniel stepped down, Stuart sang out to him, and Daniel paused to take his hand and give him a loud kiss on the forehead. The footmen then surrounded Daniel, talking excitedly, asking him questions about the balloon crash in France, about what he’d do now.
Of the frightening duke, there was no sign. He and the duchess were out taking tea with a cabinet minister and his wife, the majordomo reported, and their young lordships were riding in the park with their riding master. They’d all be home soon.
A horde of maids surrounded Celine with a solicitation that pleased her. Violet had been a bit apprehensive about leaving her mother with strangers, but the servants were giving her every deference. Ainsley and Cameron would be staying here too. Celine liked Ainsley, and Mary agreed to remain to look after her instead of going with Violet.
And so Violet drove off alone with Daniel.
Ye anxious to rest and sleep? he’d asked. Not really. Everything was too new, too nerve-racking to let her calm. And now Violet had another household to meet, that of the elusive Lord Ian.
“I’m not tired at all,” Violet said.
“Then we’ll make a stop first before I get you settled. Bertram,” he called up to the coachman. “Just drop us at my house, will you? You can take Violet’s things on to Uncle Ian’s.”
“Yes, sir, Young Master Daniel,” Bertram said, and the coach swung around a corner.
“They’ll be calling me Young Master Daniel when I’m eighty.” Daniel sat back—next to Violet now. “Ah, well, I don’t really mind.”
Violet had met plenty of families in her travels. Because of her line of work, most of them had been torn by grief—wives losing husbands; mothers, sons; sisters, brothers. She’d also seen families like the Laniers, where one member believed in the spirit world and was tormented for that belief.
She’d rarely seen a family with as much camaraderie and acceptance as the Mackenzies. Violet hadn’t met the duke yet, or Lord Cameron’s other brothers or wives, but the way Ainsley and Daniel spoke of them made her know there was no envy or hatred between the Mackenzies. She’d seen families filled with jealousy, or bare tolerance of one another, or absolute sorrow. She rarely encountered families comfortable and at peace.
Daniel was lucky, so very lucky. Violet loved her mother, but she wasn’t easy friends with her. Violet was more like a lady’s companion, taking care of Celine, making decisions for her, living life for Celine’s comfort.
Not looking after Celine while they stayed in London, however long that might be, felt strange to Violet. Like an emptiness, a feeling she should be doing something but not quite putting her finger on what.
Daniel’s house wasn’t far from the duke’s. Violet knew London well, and she watched their progress south through darkening Mayfair, down Davies Street to Berkeley Square and around it to Hill Street.
The house the carriage halted in front of was tall like its neighbors, with a gray façade and white corner bricks. The door was black, with no knocker, indicating its owners were not in Town. There were no lights in the windows, no curtains in most of them either.
No servants came out the door to greet Daniel or welcome him home. Daniel climbed down by himself and reached up to hand out Violet. He pulled his valises from the back and told Bertram to drive on to Uncle Ian’s then return for them later.
