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“I think it best,” Marcus said as Walter clambered down from the carriage too. “I do not need your help for this next part.” He strode toward the house, feeling his determination build with every step. Since Lady Violette had been gone, he had missed her, and longed for her company again. He was eager to see her face and speak to her, so much so that he knocked on the door with a rather insistent fist.
“Good luck, then,” Walter called from the carriage.
“Thank you. I might need it.”
***
“Sit there,” Lord Brunlow said, pointing to a chair for Violette to take her seat. She reluctantly followed his order, sitting in the drawing room in the far corner so that she was mostly facing the garden, with her back almost turned completely to the door. “Lord Northrive must have come to discuss the matter of business again, and I will not have you embarrassing me as you did last time.”
“Not being able to play the piano is hardly the greatest embarrassment in the world, Fa—”
“That is enough,” he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Rowena, sit there.” When he took hold of Rowena’s arm and steered her into the chair beside Violette, rather forcefully, Violette nearly lost her temper. She only just managed to hold onto it because she could hear footsteps in the hallway from where Haynes had gone to answer the door for Lord Northrive.
Unlike her father, she did not believe Lord Northrive had come to parlay about business. She feared he had come to tell her father just what she had done that summer.
“Please, do not betray my secret,” she whispered to herself as she found something shoved into her lap. Her father was forcing a piece of embroidery into her hands. “You want me to do this?” she asked in disbelief.
“It is the habit of a lady, Violette. Do it,” he ordered.
She shared one last worried glance with Rowena before she picked up the embroidery and attempted to work a few stitches. She was only two stitches in when she managed to prod her finger with the needle and draw some blood. She tried to staunch the bead of blood as footsteps were heard across the entrance hall.
The closer Lord Northrive came, the more Violette’s heartbeat picked up. The thought of the kiss she had given him burned within her. Firstly, because she had loved it, then secondly because he had torn himself away from her. There was something to love and hate in that memory, urging her to think of it so much now that she almost felt sick at the thought of seeing him again.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Rowena asked as Violette struggled to sit still in her chair.
“I am fine,” Violette said with a lie as she glanced to the door again. She longed to see him, even if he had come to tell her secret. She still loved him.
The door opened as her father took his place in the centre of the room, and Haynes walked in first.
“My lord, may I present Lord Northrive.”
Violette and Rowena stood dutifully from their seats to curtsy. At first, Violette couldn’t raise her eyes to his, for she was too afraid of seeing disapproval in his eyes. When she stood straight and managed to prick herself with the embroidery needle for a second time, she at last looked up to him, only to find her was staring straight back at her.
