Page 67 of Again, Scoundrel

“I’ve a proposal, Violet. The gentleman was here this morning.”

Ah. That’s why they hadn’t noticed.

“That’s wonderful,” Violet said, examining Catherine, who had made the announcement in an oddly subdued manner. “Who is the lucky fellow and when can I meet him?”

“Henry Pembrooke,” Catherine replied. “You have met before. At the—”

“I remember,” Violet interrupted.

She’d met him the evening Alistair had asked her to dance, but she’d kissed him in the gardens instead. The evening he’d faked being a footman in order to apologize to her.

That had been how long ago? Less than two weeks, but it felt like a lifetime.

A feeling she was afraid might be regret pulsed through her that she ruthlessly ignored. He wouldn’t have had to apologize if he’d trusted her in the first place, she reminded herself. And he’d barely spoken a word to her the last hour of their acquaintance, despite their intimacy and his proclamation they were to marry.

He was inconstant.

Wasn’t he?

Even as she thought the words, she knew they were not true. He had proposed to her. That was nothing if not constant. It was she who had waffled. She who had declined.

“Violet?” her mother interrupted her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. “Yes, of course. Congratulations, Catherine,” she said to her cousin and took another sip of her coffee.

“There is so much to do now of course,” Violet’s mother said. “We’ll need your help, dear. All hands on deck as they say!”

Violet shuddered at the sailing analogy. She’d rather not think about sailing or sea captains or Alistair Crawford ever again.

“There’s the announcement, the trousseau, and of course the wedding arrangements,” her mother went on. “Are you listening, Violet?”

“I am.” Violet turned her attention back to her cousin, realizing that she’d said she had a proposal. Not that she was betrothed.

“You have accepted him, cousin?”

“I have not,” Catherine said, causing both her mother and her Aunt Nora to whip their heads around to her.

“Not yet,” she amended. “But I will. He is young and handsome and the heir to the Waverly Viscountcy. It is a good match. We’ll have the contracts drawn up just as soon as possible.”

Catherine’s dispirited manner made Violet uneasy. “And is he kind?” she pressed. “Will he make you happy?”

“He’ll make her happier than having the Earl of Chester marry her off to the highest bidder,” Catherine’s mother said. “She’ll accept.”

Violet looked to Catherine. “I’ll accept,” Catherine confirmed. “But first I’ll go to the house party he’s hosting in the country next fortnight. Just to make sure. You’ll accompany me, won’t you, Violet?”

“Of course, she will,” Violet’s mother said. “Won’t you, dear?”

“I would have thought it better for me to stay away. After the Waverly Ball, we agreed for me to keep my distance.”

“Don’t be silly,” her mother scoffed. “She’s had the proposal now, so it’s completely different. You must go. We all must.”

“I suppose I could,” Violet agreed reluctantly.

It would be nice to be out of London, which reminded her too much of Alistair.

But first she would check on her patient. If Jess was well, she’d go. If not, she’d come up with some reason to stay.

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