Page 52 of Untaming Lady Violet
And the barriers she hopelessly erected between them?
He would damn well ignore those. What else could he do when the taste of her coating his mouth, the feel of her body clenching around his fingers, was all now etched upon his soul?
He wanted more, and that meant a ruthless pursuit of Violet Everstone.
* * *
A burstof activity in the grand hall and the barking of dogs announced the arrival of new guests.
“They are here!”
Tristan straightened the cuffs of his coat, frowning as he glanced over his shoulder at Celia standing at the top of the staircase. His sister was known for her disregard for propriety, but usually, it was not displayed so exuberantly when his parents stood in full view.
“What the devil—” Tristan murmured, coming to a halt in the middle of the stairs.
Celia squealed again, clapping her hands in obvious delight. She flew past him, holding aloft double handfuls of her skirts to achieve greater speed. If she wasn’t careful, she would likely take a tumble down the steps and land in a heap.
“Richeforte and Grace! They’ve arrived!” Celia tossed over her shoulder, now that she’d moved past him. “Hurry, Tristan!”
“Celia!” Their mother admonished with an exasperated smile from where she and the earl stood in the grand foyer. “Remember yourself, if you please. The Duke and Duchess are not addressed so informally.”
“But, Mother,” Celia laughed. “Before she became ‘Her Grace’, she was simply Grace to us. Oh! I can hardly believe she’s here. I’ve missed her so terribly.”
Tristan remained immobile on the staircase. He’d not seen Grace or Nicholas in months, and while the awkward situation between them was settled long ago, a strange nervousness confounded him.
How would Violet react to the news?
The footmen and Herman, their dreadfully dour butler, bustled about as Tristan descended the stairs. The arrival of a duke and duchess would throw any proper household into a frenzied hub of activity, and Darby Meadows was no exception.
“Hurry down, Violet!” Celia said. “Her Grace will be so happy to see you.”
Tristan glanced over his shoulder. At the top of the steps, her face pale and white, Violet hesitated in her own descent. For a second, he saw a flash of something in her gaze when their eyes met.
Dread.And a bit of sadness as well. Tristan’s stomach twisted.
With enviable control, Violet masked her emotions, a smile curving her lips. Catching up to Tristan, she took his arm when it was silently offered.
They entered the foyer together as if they were a true couple. But Violet refused to look at him. The smile she wore was reserved for Celia and his parents.
“Her Grace adores you, you know,” Mother said, holding out a hand to Violet. “Come closer, dear. Stand with us as part of the family. Tristan, darling, you may stand here.”
The spot indicated was beside Violet, and Tristan knew immediately what his mother was about. She wanted it known Violet was accepted as a candidate for marriage into the family. The two of them standing shoulder to shoulder sent a powerful message.
Violet released her grip on Tristan’s forearm. Celia grabbed her hand, squeezing it with a gentle smile. “Yes, you are a part of our family for a certainty, Violet. Regardless of circumstances, and anything else that may happen.”
Tristan stood where his mother instructed. He wanted very badly to reach out and wrap an arm around Violet. The way her feet shifted told him she was incredibly nervous. Most concerning was his abrupt willingness to soothe her, even if it meant attracting undue attention.
“His Grace and Her Grace, The Duke and Duchess of Richeforte,” Herman intoned as the double doors were ceremoniously opened.
Being so closely attuned to Violet, Tristan noticed immediately that her entire body stiffened. And God help him, her chin even trembled the tiniest bit before she regained control, exhibiting an even wider smile for the benefit of those gathered around.
Celia leaned over, whispering something in her ear, and Violet gave an imperceptible nod.
What is Celia saying to her? And why do I care so much?
Chapter 22
“He cares for her as a sister. Remember that, Violet,” Celia murmured in her ear, and Violet could only nod.
