Page 14 of Untaming Lady Violet
Tristan paused and Violet half-turned, her hand resting on the balustrade.
To his great irritation, it was Henry Bowman. The gentleman was pleasant enough, although he possessed a reputation of playing rather fast and loose with his mistresses. Lately, it was said he was on the hunt for a wife.
If he decided a pursuit of Violet was warranted, the man would need to address the size of his estates. It was rumored Lord Everstone searched for deep pockets when it came to the selection of a husband for his daughter. Lord William Gadley fit those requirements handily. Bowman hardly stood a chance.
“Bowman.” Tristan nodded as the man drew closer.
“Are you on your way to the Emerald Parlor?” Bowman inquired of Tristan, sketching a quick bow. “If so, there is no hope for other gentlemen in attendance.”
Not waiting on Tristan’s response, Bowman turned his full attention to Violet.
“Lord Henry Bowman, my lady.” Bowing over Violet’s hand, he gallantly kissed her gloved fingertips.
“We’ve met before, Lord Bowman.” With a pained smile, Violet tugged her hand free. “Most recently in London. At Lord William Gadley’s townhouse on Chelsea Court.”
Tristan ground his teeth. If the man would bloody look at Violet’s face instead of her breasts, perhaps he’d recognize her.
Bowman’s pale blue eyes finally lifted. “Gadley’s… oh, yes. I believe I recall the occasion.”
“This is Lady Violet Everstone, the Earl of Everstone’s daughter,” Tristan offered when it became apparent Bowman did not remember her at all.
A calculating expression crossed Bowman’s handsome features, but it was gone so quickly Tristan could not discern the meaning of it.
“Of course. Please, forgive my forgetfulness. I blame it on the tediousness of the long journey from London. I only arrived a short time ago and have yet to recover my bearings.” Bowman smiled in an engaging way that made Tristan’s fists clench. “If by chance you are headed to the Emerald Parlor, Lady Violet, it would be my honor to accompany you.”
“I am already escorting the lady.” Tristan reached for Violet’s hand, tucking it under his arm. Tilting his head, he regarded her curiously. “I was under the impression you were meeting my sister alone in the Emerald Parlor?”
“I never said we would be alone,” she replied as they resumed descending the staircase.
“Several of us are converging there,” Bowman provided from the stair treads behind them. “Your delightful sister sent word that a variety of games have been arranged for everyone’s amusement. Very thoughtful of her.”
“What manner of games?” Tristan did not bother hiding his suspicion.
Reaching the grand foyer, Bowman drew even with them. “Just a bit of sport to pass the time, I’m sure. You should join us, Longleigh.”
Violet extricated herself from Tristan’s grip and sidled a few inches away. “The viscount must think such things are trivial amusements. I’m sure he has other matters requiring his attention.”
Bowman smoothed light brown hair with the palm of his hand. “An evening spent in the company of beautiful women is never trivial. Besides, Longleigh is known for his enjoyment of those pleasures and much more.”
A lazy grin hid Tristan’s increasing aggravation with Henry Bowman. “I relish a great variety of games. Hide and seek is a personal favorite. Even as an adult, I find it exhilarating, if one has a worthy opponent.”
Violet gaped at Tristan, struck speechless by the brash reminder of their time in the forest. Bowman shifted his feet, eyes darting between the two of them in an effort to determine what he’d stumbled into.
“Violet! There you are!” Celia rushed across the foyer’s wide expanse. “I was just coming to look for you. The others have already gathered, and… Oh, my heavens.” She drew up short, an expression of shock gracing her lovely features. “Your dress, darling. It’s stunning. You are stunning.”
Violet’s hand fluttered over the bodice of her gown while Tristan was struck with the strangest urge to knock it away. He wanted to whisper words of encouragement in her tiny shell of an ear.
Words of reassurance.
This shy flower should be told how beautiful she was. Someone must show her how she could use that beauty. It was a bargaining tool when it came to men such as himself and granted power over weaker ones like Henry Bowman.
“Your brother was escorting me there now,” Violet said softly.
“Was he now?” Celia shot Tristan an indecipherable look.
“I was,” he drawled. “Celia, dear, I believe I’ll join your little group.”
“No,” his sister insisted firmly. “No, you won’t, Tristan. Father and several gentlemen have gathered on the north terrace for a brandy. I’m sure their company will be more to your liking.”
