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***
Marcus was finishing getting changed as his valet helped him, humming to himself.
“You seem very happy, my lord,” the valet said kindly.
“Thank you, I feel it today.” Marcus adjusted his cravat a little, looking into the mirror at the smile that had taken up residence in his face.
He had received a letter that morning saying that his father was to return home in a couple of days. With things progressing well with Lady Helen, Marcus was assured that he could soon tell his father everything that he wanted to hear.
Soon, Marcus would be betrothed, and all pressures of a match would be gone! It hardly mattered if he and Lady Helen didn’t connect on many levels as long as it was the right thing to do and it made his father happy, then Marcus was certain he would be too.
Walter’s words a few days before were lingering in his mind too. There was nothing to stop Marcus after he was wed spending more of his time with his friends, in particular with Mr Blake. That was certainly the recipe for a happy life if Mr Blake were in it.
There was a sound beyond the window as the valet stepped away to fetch Marcus’ boots. Hearing what sounded like a yelp, Marcus moved to the window and peered beyond. Having a view of the larger estate rather than the main part of the garden, he struggled for a few minutes to see what the source of the commotion was. He had to crane his neck to see lingering by the trees were Mr Blake and Lady Helen, talking together.
Marcus smiled a little at the sight, realising what a good friend Mr Blake was to him. That even now, Mr Blake was trying his best to pursue Marcus’ suit of Lady Helen. Though after the dances last night, Marcus had been left in little doubt of Lady Helen’s preference for him.
“Here you go, my lord,” the valet said. Marcus turned back round to find the valet proffering his boots.
“Thank you,” Marcus said, taking the boots and slipping them on over his feet. Once done, he turned and looked back out of the window, startled that by the look on Mr Blake’s face, something had gone awry.
He could not see Lady Helen’s expression for her back was to him, but Mr Blake was beginning to look more concerned and was even backing up away from Lady Helen.
“What in God’s name?” Marcus murmured to himself. It was plain to see something was wrong.
Mr Blake turned and walked away from Lady Helen. The move was so sudden that Marcus had to grapple at the window, craning his neck even more to see what had happened. Mr Blake had walked away from Lady Helen in the rudest way. It was hardly like Mr Blake’s usual character.
“What? That doesn’t make sense,” Marcus muttered to himself.
“Is something wrong, my lord?” the valet said as he tidied up the room.
“My guest, Mr Blake, he has just been rude to Lady Helen, but that is not like him. Not at all.” Marcus was panicking. He stepped away from the window, intent on going to see Lady Helen and apologising for the injury.
“Ah, something tells me Mr Blake might be out of sorts.”
“What?” Marcus had to do a double take as he snatched up the tailcoat and flung it over his shoulders.
“It is something that Mr Blake’s valet said last night. He muttered something about broken hearts,” the valet said with a sad sort of smile. “He said no more, but I imagine your guest’s heart might be aching for something, my lord.”
Marcus turned in a quick circle, thinking as quickly as he could. It seemed that it was possible Mr Blake was in love with Lady Helen.
“Oh, I’m blind,” Marcus said to himself, angry at his own ignorance, for he had seen no hint of it. Yet things started to add up…Mr Blake’s reticence to help with Marcus’ pursuit of her, even when Mr Blake had spoken of telling him a secret that he begged Marcus wouldn’t hate him for. It all added up perfectly!
Despite knowing that he should go to see Lady Helen and apologise for Mr Blake’s rudeness, he could not do it. Instead, he flung open the door and hurried through the corridors, looking for Mr Blake.
***
“You have not seen him at all?” Violette asked the butler in panic. “Not even this morning.”
“No, Mr Blake. The last anyone saw of Sherborne was last night.” The butler shook his head gravely. “Perhaps he is ill? I am sure he will turn up soon. I will go and check in his room and send him to you if I find him.”
“Thank you,” Violette said, trying to smile at the butler, but it didn’t last. As the butler left her, she stood in the centre of the entrance hall, repeatedly staring back out of the open doorway with gasping breaths, wary of Lady Helen approaching her again. “I have no choice,” she whispered into the air.
She had to leave before Lady Helen could oust her secret and disgrace her in front of this whole family. The idea of being so exposed to them all made her flush red with embarrassment. She knew they’d all be shocked, except Peter, who probably had a good idea anyway that she was not a man.
There was another reason she had to go, though.
“My mother,” she whispered to herself as she reached for the staircase and hurried up as quickly as she could. She knew her mother didn’t care for her very much, but Violette had never considered that her leaving could mean her father turning his anger solely on her mother in such a way. The thought was too horrifying for words, making Violette lay a hand to her clenched stomach.
