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Chapter 17
“Your Grace, welcome to our home,” Lord Northrive said, running forward to the carriage.
Violette hurried along behind him, aware just how sodden they both were from their splashing competition in the stream. She snatched off her cap and tried to wring some water out of it as the carriage door opened and the guests started to clamber down. The first to step down was the Duke of Overton, a man Violette had come across before, yet had never spoken to.
Like any time she had met him before, he kept his nose in the air, and his eyes were raised equally as high, as though anything that was beneath his shoulder height was not worth his notice, including Violette. She had no need to fear being recognised by him.
As he extended his hand to help his daughters down, Violette threw the wet cap back on her head, hardly caring if it was still wet and dripping down her face, for she knew both of the daughters.
Lady Helen, the eldest, was of a similar age to Violette. As children, they had been forced into each other’s company on more than one occasion, and even attended finishing classes together, though Violette had heartily complained against attending such things.
Behind Lady Helen was the youngest daughter, Lady Katherine, whose gaze quickly slipped past Violette to the house itself. When Lady Helen’s eyes passed over Violette, she pulled the cap a little lower over her face, feeling her stomach knot with fear.
“I am so glad you could come,” Lord Northrive said, bowing to the Duke and his daughters, who promptly returned the favour. “I trust your journey was well?”
“Awful, really,” the Duke said in a snobbish tone before offering a small smile. “Yet I am sure our time here will make the journey worth it.”
“I hope so too,” Lord Northrive said. He took a step back from the newcomers and gestured to Violette, much to her annoyance, as she was trying her best to disappear into her own shadow. “May I introduce my friend, Mr Victor Blake?”
“How do you do?” Violette said, being careful to make her voice deep as she bowed to them. The Duke didn’t look at her but kept his eyes on Lord Northrive. Lady Katherine was far more interested in staring at the house, but Lady Helen looked straight at Violette. She seemed to do a double take, twisting her chin back toward Violette more than once before she curtsied.
“Mr Blake?” she said with a small smile on her lips. “A pleasure indeed.”
There was something in that look that made Violette stiffen all the more was it possible that she had been recognised after all? Was her secret about to be outed?
“My lord,” Lady Helen said, walking straight past Violette and going for Lord Northrive. “I have heard your praises sung every day from dawn until dusk for the last week by my father. I hope you will permit me to spend some time with you. So that I may judge for myself if his praise was worthy.”
Violette breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that Lady Helen had no interest in her and hadn’t recognised her at all, but then the words spoken struck Violette, grating on her. She whipped her head round, feeling the jealousy ripple through her body as Lady Helen looped her arm through Lord Northrive’s and he escorted her into the house.
It felt wrong. Lady Helen did not belong on Lord Northrive’s arm.
***
“You do not think this dinner is unusual, Mr Blake?” Laurie said in a harried whisper to Violette as the two of them collected fresh port carafes from the side of the room.
“Laurie, it is not my business to judge your brother on the dinners he holds,” Violette said, watching as Laurie sighed with exasperation. “Is having guests so unusual to you?”
“It’s not that. It’s the fawning over the Duke’s daughters I find so sickening.” Laurie pointedly turned and stared back at the table. Violette followed his gaze, unable to disagree with him, for she found it just as sickening, probably even more than he did.
Lady Helen was quite the star of the dinner, with not only Lord Northrive staring at her and hanging on her words, but Lord Catling and Peter, too. Laurie, being the youngest and yet to develop a real interest in ladies, seemed to be the only one impervious to her beauty.
“I dare say you’ll understand what they say when you get older,” Violette whispered back to him, though her eyes lingered on Lord Northrive. He was leaning forward and smiling, clearly humoured at whatever jest Lady Helen was telling him. Lady Helen seemed to be making an excuse to touch Lord Northrive as well, tapping his hand delicately with hers, or asking for his help in serving more poussin to her plate so she could brush his hand with her own.
“What is there to understand?” Laurie said, taking the carafe out of Violette’s hands.
“I think it’s….” Violette paused, staring at Lady Helen a little longer. “Beauty.” She sighed with disappointment. It could not be denied Lady Helen was very beautiful indeed, with blonde hair that curled delicately down from its updo, large blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. Her manners were altogether different to Violette’s as well. “She is the perfect picture of a lady, Laurie,” she said, trying to mask her resentment.
“I do not understand the charm,” Laurie said, still holding onto his sickened tone. “You are not charmed by her either, so at least I am not the only one.”
“Well, you’re right there,” Violette said, letting her eyes slip back to Lord Northrive. Usually by this time, she was retiring with Lord Northrive to share coffee and a private chat. Though no such indulgence would befall her this evening it seemed. He only had eyes for Lady Helen.
“Tell me something, Mr Blake,” Laurie said, leaning toward Violette conspiratorially. “Do all men end up blinded by beauty? If so, I do not look forward to getting any older.” Violette had to work hard to fight her laughter.
“I’m sure Lady Helen has many attributes to recommend her.”
“Such as?”
Violette couldn’t answer. She was too busy seething at the sight of Lady Helen’s hand touching Lord Northrive’s again. It made her own fingers tighten around the port glass in her hand, in danger of snapping the stem.
