“A letter just arrived for you, Your Grace,” she said, curtsying as she held out a silver tray atop which was an envelope.
At once, Violet’s heart leaped.
It must be from James!
She sat up and eagerly snatched the envelope off the tray. It was addressed to her but had no return address, which only confirmed her conviction that it was from her husband. The note he had last sent also did not have a return address.
Once her lady’s maid was gone, she ripped open the envelope and scanned the note.
At once, all the momentary joy was replaced by the icy grip of fear. The letter was not from her husband. It was from her father.
My dearest daughter,
You must forgive me that I have not written to you yet to congratulate you on your wedding. As you can imagine, it has been hard for me to get letters delivered from my current place of instability and rootlessness. But congratulations are certainly in order! You snagged a duke, and not just any duke, but the Devilish Duke! I should have known that both my daughters would marry men who are as formidable as their father, and I am even less surprised that you chose someone so clearly fashioned in my image.
We have always been so alike, Daughter. From a very young age, friends and colleagues would comment on it. And since you married a man who is unafraid to go to extremes to get what he wants, I believe that you will understand my position even more. Perhaps you will even help me.
I need to meet with you, Violet. Of course, I cannot let you know the time or place, in case you would be foolish enough to bring Scotland Yard or your husband with you. But I would very much like to meet and discuss how you can make up for your wrongdoings. Since I cannot leave my return address for you to write to me, I shall assume you are amenable to this meeting.
Expect me when you least expect me, Daughter. I shall see you soon, and then we shall find out just how similar we really are.
Yours truly,
Jebediah Crampton, Viscount Carfield.
Violet folded the letter, and her fingers shook so badly that she thought she might drop it. She felt ill. Her father’s letter had sent a shiver up her spine. It scared her greatly that he would write to her and tell her he was planning to see her. By warning her, he was giving her a chance to anticipate him and outsmart him, but he was also instilling in her the dread of coming face-to-face with him.
He’s trying to scare me. Even now that I’m married to James, Papa still isn’t afraid to threaten me.
Now, more than ever, she wished that her husband was here at the house, and not staying in his bachelor lodgings at The Albany.
“Why aren’t you here, James?” she whispered out loud. “Why aren’t you protecting me?”
She crumpled the letter in her hands. At least she was no longer thinking about the kiss, she thought dully. Her father had thoroughly distracted her from that debacle.
Across town, James was standing outside the office of Harold Twycross, the Earl of Kettledown, also trying to distract himself from thinking about the kiss he and his wife had shared.
It was hot outside, and during the whole ride from Lord Gray’s office to the Parliament building at Westminster, he had been unable to think of anything except the baths in Rome—the perfect place to cool down in the summer heat—where, he couldn’t help but imagine, it would be perfect to take his wife on a honeymoon.
She would love Italy, and now that Iris had spent her honeymoon in Italy, James was sure that Violet was also eager for such an escapade.
You can’t go on holiday to Rome, he reminded himself sternly,when you have the duchy to clean up.
And also because he and Violet didn’t have that kind of relationship. If there was one thing Rome necessitated, it was romance.
The door to the office opened, and the secretary came out. “His Lordship will see you now,” he said, before showing James into the office.
“Your Grace!” Kettledown greeted, standing up as James swept into the room, and extending his hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Lord Kettledown,” James returned, shaking the Earl’s hand earnestly. “I will not beat around the bush—I am here on business, and to ask for a favor.”
“Ahh.” The Earl indicated the chair in front of his desk, and they sat across from each other. “I see the time has finally come for you to call in your favor.”
“Indeed.” James inclined his head. “I didn’t just make you a rich man, Kettledown, when I took that failing mine off your hands. I saved you from having to file for bankruptcy and potentially sell your family’s ancient estate.”
“You did,” Kettledown agreed. “You saved me and my family from ruin, Your Grace, and I will not easily forget that. Chances are, you were going to take a loss on the mine, but you managed to get it up and running again—and even make it profitable!” He shook his head. “I’ll never understand how you do it, but you always seem to get your way, don’t you?”
James smiled and steepled his fingers. “Yes, I do.”
