Page 51 of Untaming Lady Violet
“I should break his hands,” he muttered beneath his breath as he sank beside her. “And I will if he ever touches you like that again.”
Violet said nothing as he gently removed Carrot from her arms and placed him on the ground. Surprisingly, the kitten neither hissed nor attempted to scratch Tristan during this. Progress was surely being made on that front.
She rubbed her upper arms, the dress sleeves concealing bruising Tristan suspected was already forming. “Poor Carrot. He was so frightened. As was I.”
“I welcome the opportunity to teach the man a lesson.”
“I can’t allow you to intervene again on my behalf,” Violet replied softly. “Gadley is oddly determined to marry me, for reasons I don’t fully understand. He and my father have already decided the course of my life.”
“The hell they have,” Tristan growled. “What ofourarrangement? Have you forgotten it already? Iwillmake Gadley rethink his pursuit. He desires a compliant and meek wife, yet I watched you land a blow to rival that of any boxer at Gentleman Jackson’s. You are capable of defiance, Violet. Courageous enough to defy a man who does not deserve your kindness and doesn’t give a farthing for your loyalty.”
“You nor I have little say in the matter,” she replied with a harsh laugh and a wave of her hand. Sobering, she tucked a stray curl back into her coiffure. “I wasn’t myself when I agreed to follow your scheme. And I certainly wasn’t thinking clearly when I struck Lord Gadley. Oh, Tristan. I’m neither defiant nor brave. I’m simply a foolish girl who forgot the reality of my own circumstances. This marriage is inevitable, and I must resign myself to it.”
Tristan considered her words in silence, offering neither denial nor sympathy for her plight.
Sighing heavily, Violet gazed up at the clouds scuttling in to darken the skies. “You should begin with Carrot’s portraiture. The day will fade quickly while we discuss matters neither one of us have control over. Besides, when my parents arrive at Darby Meadows, the freedom I enjoy now will be restricted.”
Tristan fought the urge to yank Violet to him and prove just how brave she was. She should know her quiet, rebellious nature ignited his blood. He should tell her he derived great pleasure in seeing her confidence grow. Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he loved the sparkle in her eyes when she challengedhim.
He said none of those things, however. It was impossible when the words lodged in his throat with all the sharp edges of an unexpected fish bone swallowed at dinner.
With a frown, he scooped Carrot up, placing him in Violet’s lap. The kitten swatted his hand for taking the trouble, but the tiny scratch did not bother him as much as Violet’s sad smile of resignation.
“Very well, Violet.” He would abandon the argument of her impending engagement for the time being. “I shall only be a moment setting things up.”
In little more than an hour, Tristan completed the rough outline of the painting. Carrot would be immortalized on canvas with the garden fountain as the main backdrop and banks of roses providing a subtle softness along the edges. Facing forward in a sitting position, with the glow of the afternoon sun creating a halo effect, the kitten would appear both regal and playful.
Tristan easily captured the mischievous lift of Carrot’s mouth, his whiskers gilded in golden sunshine, and the funny little crook at the end of his tail.
If it were not just a portrait of a cat, he might have thought it rivaled his best work.
No one intruded while Tristan painted. He’d made sure of that earlier, posting a footman at the beginning of each pathway. When he began laying brushes aside at the end of the hour, Violet stood, intent on seeing the progress. Carrot followed, stopping occasionally so he could roll upon the smooth gravel stones in obvious delight.
“Wait,” Tristan held up his hand, halting Violet’s progress. “I’d rather you not see it until it is completely done.”
She smiled. “I told you before I won’t criticize.”
“Even so.” He turned the easel so it wasn’t possible to catch a glimpse and met her halfway. “By May Day, I promise you shall have your painting.”
Using his index finger, Tristan traced the line of her jaw then the shell-like perfection of her ear exposed by the upsweep of her hair. The late afternoon sun lit the shiny, auburn strands until they gleamed like autumn fire.
He wished her hair was unbound. He would pay a fortune to see it loose, flowing down her back like a silk banner. He imagined how glorious she would look naked with the soft light of dusk illuminating her creamy white skin, those violet eyes glowing with desire for him. For some reason, a vison of her in the Darby Meadows conservatory taunted the edges of his brain as well. He would paint her draped in amethyst-hued silk, surrounded by all the exotic flora he could gather.
Tristan’s hand slid further until his fingers buried in the wealth of her hair, and he teetered on the verge of claiming her mouth. A giant vise imprisoned his heart, leaving him short of breath at the thought of drinking her in.
Violet’s eyes fluttered shut. Leaning into his touch, her lips parted in anticipation of his kiss before abruptly catching herself.
Stumbling back, her white teeth worried the plump, soft flesh of her bottom lip. “I-I must go select my dress for the dance tomorrow night. Of course, it’s not the grand ball which comes at the end of everyone’s stay here at Darby Meadows, but it shall be amusing just the same.”
Her fragile resistance both pleased and frustrated Tristan. The excuse she gave was flimsy at best but he allowed her to retreat with a smile, silently promising he’d have that kiss sooner or later.
“I shall claim every waltz. If for no other reason than to prove my interest in you is genuine.”
Violet’s head tilted. “But it’s not, is it? Everything is for appearance. For Gadley. My parents. Even your own father.” Bending down, she picked the kitten up and began walking up the pathway, leaving him behind. “Thank you for painting Carrot. I know I will love whatever you create.”
“Every waltz, Violet,” he called after her, the statement sounding more like a threat than a promise even to his own ears.
But any opportunity to touch and hold Violet, even if under the guise of an innocent dance, could not be missed.
