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Chapter 16
“Miss, you have to think about this!” Sherborne insisted as he threw a hat for Violette to catch. She swiped it from the air, trying it out on her head. It was a cloth cap designed to be worn outdoors on walks.
“There is nothing to think about. I am going on a hike with Lord Northrive,” she said decisively, checking her appearance in the mirror.
“Not that bit, the other bit,” Sherborne said in a panic, walking around the settees toward her. “I am thinking much more of what you said about the swimming yesterday.”
“Oh tush, no one knew why I wasn’t swimming,” she said, hoping to persuade herself as much as Sherborne with her words, for she feared Peter might have a clue. “Lord Northrive suspects nothing.”
“You cannot say his name without smiling,” Sherborne said, folding his arms.
“How absurd! Of course, I can,” Violette said, adopting a stoic expression. “Lord Northrive,” she said the words firmly, and though a smile was not there at first, it appeared a second later.
“Ha! I knew it,” Sherborne said, flicking his fingers at her. “See? You are as in love with him as my younger sister is with her husband.”
“In love? Sherborne, do not be ridiculous. I am not in love with him,” she said hurriedly, turning to put her walking boots on, then she froze, with her hands over the laces.
“Something wrong?” Sherborne asked her, the tone teasing.
“Be quiet, please,” she begged, thinking on the words, yet Sherborne didn’t pay attention.
“To be in love and not know it, eh? Quite an accomplishment that is.”
“I am not in love,” she said, jumping to her feet and swiping the tailcoat out of his hands. Lord Northrive was lending her some old clothes to go walking in, that had just been delivered to her door by Sherborne.
“What did you do yesterday evening, Miss?” Sherborne asked.
“Oh, we played cards. Lord Northrive is hopeless at cribbage,” she said, giving way to laughter before she saw Sherborne’s arched eyebrows. “I am not in love with him,” she said again, holding onto the idea resolutely. “I cannot be.”
“Why not? Because you’re dressed as a man? Does that close off your heart?”
“No, because I….”
“Because you what?”
“Because I told myself that I didn’t want the whole marriage thing,” she said with feeling, waving her arms. “I didn’t want it. It is simply signing myself over to another man, away from my father. There will be the same possession and control as there was before. It does not sound like the recipe for happiness, does it?”
“Marrying a man like that, no, certainly not. Yet would Lord Northrive ever treat you as such?” Sherborne’s words practically pulled the rug out from under her feet. She froze partway through putting the jacket on, and turned back to face him.
No, she knew the answer. Lord Northrive would never treat her that way. He would be her friend as well as her husband. Such a marriage could bring a lot of happiness indeed.
“I am not in love with him,” she said again, though this time the words were spoken quietly, without any feeling in them.
“Very well, enjoy your hike,” he said. She walked to the door. “With your friend.” He added the words, making her hesitate in the doorway before closing the door softly behind her.
She was halfway down the staircase in the house when she saw Lord Northrive waiting for her by the open front door. One look at his handsome features before he turned and smiled at her, and she felt that leap in her chest. It was a leap coupled with a thrill that told her all she needed to know.
“Damn you, Sherborne,” she muttered to herself.
***
“Well, what do you think?” Marcus said as he sat down on the rocky embankment, encouraging Mr Blake to do the same.
“It is as fine a view as I ever saw,” he said in agreement. Marcus smiled, looking around. They had come to climb cliffs that bordered the next county along. After a few hours trek, they were already both showing signs of tiredness and had stopped to have some of their picnic, looking out over a view across fields, bordered with hedgerows and a couple of villages with church spires in the distance. “You should draw it, my Lord.”
“I did not bring anything with me,” Marcus said offhandedly, knowing why he hadn’t brought anything with him. He needed to stop spending so much time drawing if he was going to calm down his habit. Yet before he could say any more on the subject, Mr Blake reached into the pocket of one of the bags he was carrying and pulled out a small sketchbook, along with a pencil. “And you just happened to bring that with you, did you?”
“Must have fallen into my bag when I wasn’t looking,” he said with a shrug. Marcus laughed and took the sketchbook, finding it impossible to resist.
