Page 16 of The Devil and the Heiress
Her stomach dropped as she imagined this conversation playing out ad nauseam in the years to come. In that moment, the only thing she knew for certain was that she would never marry Lord Ware or anyone like him. She shook her head. “Then I am afraid there is no need to continue our relationship. I will not give up my aspirations.”
The pleasant mask slipped, and his eyes hardened. “You have been promised to me.”
She tightened her grip on the pin so hard that it unfastened and gouged her palm. Startled, she glanced down at the tiny pinhole of blood. The red shone bright against the white of her palm. In that moment, that’s how she felt. A tiny bloom of insurrection in the midst of conformity. What hope did she have of escaping?
Lord Ware clucked his tongue. “You have injured yourself. Let me help.” He stepped forward, but she moved away, Lord Leigh’s warning from the night before prominent in her mind.
“That isn’t true. My parents would have told me—” Shestopped talking abruptly because his smile was back, but it was menacing now, or perhaps that was only her perception.
Shaking his head, he said, “Our future has already been decided. The contract is finished. You are mine for all intents and purposes. I had hoped to wait a little longer to tell you.” He shrugged and reached for her.
She was too stunned to dodge him. As his hand closed over her shoulder, her gaze went to the door where voices were coming closer. He heard them, too. He turned his head toward the sound, and his free hand closed on her other shoulder, pulling her against him. When his gaze met hers, she saw anticipation tinged with triumph as he tried to kiss her. He meant for them to be found. He meant to take all of her choices away.
Hot anger swept through her. Before she could even consider what she was doing, she stomped on his foot. He yelped and loosened his grip so that she was able to swing out of his grasp. Without looking back, she ran to the salon door, slipping through as the drawing room door opened. Hurrying through the empty salon, she made her way to the hall and front entry to find it deserted save for the footman stationed at the door. Composing herself and noting her flushed cheeks in a hallway mirror, she hurried to the drawing room to see Mother, Lady Alfred, and Lady Beatrice speaking with Lord Ware. He seemed unaffected except for a swath of red sitting high on his cheekbones.
“Here!” Violet kept her voice light and held the pin aloft as she floated into the room. “It led me on a merry chase, but I found your grandmother’s pin.”
Lady Beatrice squealed with delight and hurried over to retrieve the pin. Lady Alfred offered her appreciation, and Mother said, “Look who has paid a call. Lord Ware. Aren’t we so pleased to see him?”
Violet managed a benign nod, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at the man again. She could feel his gaze boring into her. The next several minutes passed in a bluras she walked the mother and daughter to the door and bid them goodbye. Lord Ware had stayed in the drawing room with Mother. When the door closed behind the duo, Violet eyed the stairs with longing, but before she could decide if she could chance hiding in her room, Mother emerged.
“Come join us, Violet.”
Stiffening her spine, Violet said, “I have a headache, Mother. I think I should lie down.”
“And leave our guest?” Shaking her head, she closed the distance between them and lowered her voice. “I don’t have to tell you that Lord Ware has come to see you, not me.”
“I am aware of that, Mother,” Violet said between clenched teeth. “I do not wish to see him.”
“Why not?” Brows close together, Mother put her fists on her hips. “I say, Violet, you have been short with him ever since he expressed the slightest interest in you. It’s a wonder he wants to court you at all.”
“I wish he wouldn’t. Do you know that he accosted me in the drawing room? He grabbed me, and I think his intention was for us to be found together. You know what that would have done to my reputation.”
Mother shook her head. “You seem unharmed to me, and the man is fairly besotted with you. Anyone can see that.”
As if that excused his poor behavior. The man was willing to ruin her to get what he wanted. The fact that she wanted something else wasn’t even a consideration to him. What made it worse was that her own mother supported him over her. Violet didn’t know what to do with that. She felt lost and alone. “I do not trust him, Mother. He has made it clear that his intention is marriage.”
“And that’s a bad thing? Violet, Lord Ware would be a fine husband. You make it sound as if he plans to compromise you and leave you ruined. His intention is marriage; that makes his purposes honorable.”
Violet stared at her mother. The woman appeared soperfectly reasonable in her earnestness that Violet had a vague attack of self-doubt. Was she overreacting?
No. She wasn’t. He had wanted to force her hand without regard to her feelings on the matter. That was unforgivable. The fact that her mother didn’t agree was heartbreaking. Swallowing against the lump that had risen in her throat, Violet said, “I have to go lie down, Mother. I really do feel unwell.”
The frustration on her mother’s face changed to concern as Violet raised a hand to her aching head. Her mother didn’t want to relent—the battle of care versus pressing her case for Lord Ware waged clearly on her face—but she finally nodded. “Go lie down. I will express your regrets to Lord Ware.”
The pounding in Violet’s head was nearly unbearable as she hurried to her room. She had to run away. There was no other choice. It was now obvious that her parents would refuse to see any bad in Ware, and that Ware himself would do exactly what Lord Leigh had warned her he intended. What would have happened had she not been able to escape his grip this time? Lady Alfred would have seen them together. It was possible that Violet would have escaped total scandal because they had only been alone for a few moments. However, now that she knew what Lord Ware was capable of, how long before he tried to maneuver it so that they were alone again?
She couldn’t risk it. She would die if she had to marry him, which meant she had to leave. Suddenly, her hastily thought out solution for Camille didn’t seem so outlandish. The Lake District boardinghouse would be her refuge for a few weeks, or until she could make her parents understand that she would not marry him under any circumstances.
Chapter 6
Lord Lucifer failed to realize he was being ensnared in a trap of his own design. A cynic rarely had a fair grasp on reality, though the same could be said for an ingénue.
V. Lennox,An American and the London Season
THE NEXT DAY
Montague Club took up nearly half a block on a pleasant street in Bloomsbury. The expansive white marble address had once served as the very lavish residence of the late Earl of Leigh’s mistress. While the earl had kept a home in Belgravia, rumors were that he had rarely resided there, preferring to live with his mistress and their three children—Christian’s half brother and half sisters—until an aneurysm had killed him at the age of forty-six. Sometimes Christian liked to have a scotch in the club’s lounge and imagine his father roaming the halls of his beloved home in a rage over what it had become. Most days, however, he tried not to think of him at all.
