“My country cousin and I are new to sort of event,” James said, smothering what likely would have been another eponymous suggestion. “How will we pass the time at a house party?”
Callum recoiled and mutteredcountry cousinunder his breath, followed by a low litany of profanities that made her simultaneously blush and giggle. Seeing the man unsettled could be the best entertainment yet.
Their hostess grinned as she rattled off her response. “We’ll be very busy. Poetry readings, parlor games, some excursions into York, cards, not to mention lawn games.”
Violet turned towards James. “Do you enjoy parlor games?”
“I do. I can be rather competitive when given the chance.”
She beamed. “I am as well. Perhaps we can play together—”
“No hunting this year, either,” Bridget interrupted, her lips set in a mournful moue. “I’ve been raising quail for the last year. They’re beautiful, but Valebrook won’t let them in the house. The little buggers reproduce like mad and make terrible house pets, what with the feathers and the constant defecating.” The countess shook her head, as though disappointed by the birds’ natural functions. “Regardless, I’d hate to see them suffer.”
“No seances?” Timothy asked, casting Violet a cautious glance. She’d warned him about last year’s catastrophe, resulting in a portrait of the earl’s great-great-grandfather being burned to ashes while the countess tried to commune with his spirit.
“I do hope to have another seance, but I’m concerned it won’t be as successful as last year’s.” Bridget heaved a sigh. “Valebrook found my favorite summoning board in his swimming pool after the last party. I do not know how it ended up—”
“Ye have a swimming pool?” Callum interrupted.
Bridget’s expression brightened. “Yes, and building it was quite the undertaking. I’d hoped some guests would make use of it, but no one has taken an interest so far.”
Violet smiled. “I don’t even know how to swim, so I’d be a spectator.”
Callum’s dark brows knit together. “Ye cannae swim? How did ye get to be yer age and no’ ken how to swim?”
The look she gave him should have melted those brows directly off his face. “Gentlemen don’t remark on a lady’s age, and it’s quite simple—I never let myself getwet.”
Something sparked in his eyes, and she felt a swift wave of embarrassment.
“If you’re interested,” Bridget interrupted, apparently missing Violet’s inadvertent innuendo altogether, “I’ll make sure Valebrook shows it to you.”
Timothy cleared his throat and gave Violet a meaningful look, spurring her into action. She turned to James and fluttered her lashes. “While he’s doing that, I could show you the gardens.”
Bridget frowned. “Unfortunately, not much has bloomed yet, being so early in the season.”
“We won’t mind,” she replied, holding her focus on James. “Perhaps we could—”
“I’ll join ye,” Callum interrupted, angling his shoulder so it was in front of James. “I wouldnae want ye to get lost in the dark.”
Her jaw ticked. Getting lost was precisely the point! “I can be trusted to find my way.”
“Dinnae rush, though. I wouldnae want ye to spill yer drink.”
When had she stepped closer to him? A vein in her temple throbbed. “That was not my doing, and you know it,” she growled.
James raised a brow and chuckled. “Have you two met before?”
“Aye,” Callum said at the exact moment Violet said, “No.” She glared as he smirked.
Bridget grinned. “Oh, Valebrook was clever to invite you two. This should be fun!”
Timothy put his hand on Violet’s forearm and drew her back, his laugh strained. “Oh, my dear Violet. I suspect you’ve had too much champagne.”
Callum chortled, and she had the most unladylike urge to toss the contents of her glass down his front.
James’s head tilted as he considered her. “Are the two of you…” He raised one brow and nodded towards Timothy, and heat rushed to Violet’s cheeks.
“No,” Timothy said in a rush. “We are close friends. She’s like a sister to me.”
