Page 50 of Untaming Lady Violet
William’s laugh was derisive. “You waste precious time on that venture. Not to mention squandering materials best used on worthier subjects than that flea-ridden creature. Have you gone mad, sir?”
Violet sidled away with the cat cradled protectively against her chest. William’s icy-blue eyes narrowed when he realized she was out of reach now.
“Far from it. The clarity I have at this very moment is astounding,” Tristan drawled.
Daring a peek in Tristan’s direction, Violet was stunned by the almost visible waves of cold rage emanating from his person. Would he rip William Gadley to shreds using nothing but his bare hands?
Tristan’s eyes flickered to Violet. His gaze softened, warming the tiniest bit.
“Come here, Violet.”
Violet did not care he murmured her given name in a conspicuous breach of social etiquette. She did not even care that William heard it. The connotations of Tristan’s informality in a public setting should have set off alarm bells, but Violet felt only relief.
She ran to Tristan, fighting the urge to launch herself into his arms. Instead, she made herself stand calmly beside him, avoiding William’s intense scrutiny by crooning to the oddly silent Carrot.
Tristan moved so Violet’s body was shielded by his own. Without a single touch, he conveyed possessiveness.
A small, mean smile of understanding curved William’s lips. “You appear very comfortable with one another, Longleigh. Ordinarily, I might find it alarming.” His laugh was taunting. “But I’ve little concern you’ll steal our sweet Violet away from me, considering your dedicated aversion to matrimony. I do find it interesting, however, that you’ve already forgotten how the Duchess broke your heart when she married another. One cannot blame you for following a set pattern of pursuing a woman who will never be yours.”
Chapter 21
If it were possible to punch William Gadley in the mouth and not ruin the festivities planned for May Day, Tristan’s fist would have already found its mark.
He curbed the impulse to beat the man senseless; a hard-fought battle if there ever was one.
“It is impossible to forget the Duchess of Richeforte. The duke certainly agrees with that,” Tristan replied tightly. He did not comment on the assertion he had no interest in stealing Violet away.
If Gadley only knew the things he’d done already, the man wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him as a threat.
That Violet might believe he was still in love with Grace twisted Tristan’s stomach. If it wasn't for Gadley watching them so closely, he would disprove that misconception in the most decadent way possible.
“My opinion regarding marriage is none of your concern.” Tristan forced the words between clenched teeth.
“Here now, Longleigh,” William scoffed with a wave of an elegant hand. “No need creating a row. This is a private matter between Lady Violet and myself. Soon, our engagement will be announced, so she is as good as my wife already. We only require a ceremony to make it official, although it would create quite a stir if done in haste. Gossips do love to spread their rumors, regardless of facts.”
Tristan wondered if tales of Gadley’s true nature had reached Violet’s ears. For the thousandth time, he questioned her father’s motives. Were the gains so significant that he would sell his daughter to this polished braggart?
“You are not the only man interested in Lady Violet. I find her company so delightful I’ve been unable to keep myself from seeking her out.” Tristan set a canvas roll down on the table beside the easel. It contained vials of ink powders as well as an array of his favorite brushes. “Now, I’ll ask that you vacate my mother’s gardens. You see, this is a place of exceeding beauty. Your actions have tainted that.”
William shrugged off Tristan’s pointed warning. “I had no intention of staying. The cloying scent wreaks havoc with my constitution. I cannot abide it for any length of time.” Executing a precise bow, he gave Violet a chilling smile. “Do not fret, my dear. Very soon, you will be mine, and we shall finish this conversation privately.”
Tristan watched the man take his leave, practically sauntering down the garden path he’d originally entered from.
Turning back, Tristan took Violet’s elbow and felt the fine tremors shaking her body.
“I apologize for arriving late. I was… detained.” It was Fiona’s fault he wasn’t there while William Gadley was busy proving how despicable he could be.
The need to sweep her into his arms, to comfort her was overwhelming. He’d never experienced this level of intense protectiveness before—not even with Grace. Why he felt it so strongly for Violet was a mystery he might never solve.
He was quite sure he despised being so attuned to her. It left him feeling a bit out of control. Turned him dark and moody and so unlike his usual jovial self, he wondered if others could see the transformation.
Keeping his voice purposefully even, he asked, “Are you all right?”
Her laugh was wobbly. “Of course, I am. What a silly question.”
“You’ve been crying.” Tristan drew her to the fountain, sitting her down on the basin wall. “Did he hurt you?”
Violet shook her head in response, but he knew she wasn’t being completely truthful.
