Page 33 of A Proposition for the Comte
‘Of course.’ Lady Elizabeth smiled, another group of ladies and gentlemen joining her as soon as she had gone ten yards, no doubt wanting gossip. It was how London worked—the unexpected serving as the fodder for dinner tables—and misfortune, in particular, had its own piquant sauce.
In the carriage Amara sobbed softly and Violet reached over to take her hand. ‘I am fine. It must have been some sort of a mistake.’
But Violet could see that her sister-in-law knew exactly what had happened and was just waiting for Charles Mountford to be gone. All the horror of Harland’s death came back, the lies and the constant fear of danger. She shook her head at Amara’s unvoiced concerns and turned to her godfather.
‘I think it would be a good thing for my sister-in-law and her two boys to have a holiday away from England for a little while. Italy would be lovely at this time of year.’
This was not said at all as a question and Charles took up the cause just as she knew he would.
‘You could all go to Rome for a month and take in the sun and the sights. Good to get away from the cold here. The boys would love the ruins and the...’
Violet let his words run over her as she gazed out the window. Where was Aurelian de la Tomber now? Who was her assailant? She would not leave England herself, but she could see the hope of a time away in the faces of her nephews. Perhaps that would persuade Amaryllis? She prayed it could be so.
Her hand throbbed, but Aurelian’s wound had been so much worse than her own. She understood more about him now. He was as dangerous as they came, his movements in the park speaking of elegant force and careful precision. An expert in violence. A man who was used to death.
She had barely understood the way he had so quietly defused the situation until it was over and she was safe. He’d stopped any harm without fanfare or noise, a quick twist of his arm and the man was caught in his grip, the blade clattering uselessly underfoot. She had seen the strain of Aurelian’s grasp on her assailant’s face, his eyes bulging and the pulse in his neck fast.
She had understood his intent, too, for the Comte de Beaumont was not a man to bandy purpose. If she had not been impressed by such deliberate force, she might have been truly horrified. The dark of his eyes were pools of twin peril, the danger in them magnified by a stillness that was unfathomable. The ruffians who had called out insult had no idea at all whom they dealt with or of what they had just embroiled themselves in.
‘I think we should like to go abroad.’ Amaryllis’s voice interrupted her musings. ‘A holiday away from England might allow us the chance to relax. It has been a hard few years, after all.’
‘I could book you passages for this time next week if that would be suitable.’
Uncle Charles wanted them away. Quickly.
When they had reached the town house Amara scurried upstairs, but Charles asked if he might have a word. In the library, he looked concerned.
‘You are pale, my dear. Is your hand worse than you are saying?’
‘No. It is only a scratch. It was a shock, though. What will happen to the man the Comte took away?’
She was tired of pretence.
‘He will be interviewed. Perhaps he is simply crazy.’
‘How did you know to be there at the park? At this time?’
‘We had heard things about a plot of revenge.’
‘Revenge?’
‘I am sure the vitriol was directed at your late husband. It is just unfortunate that you were involved.’
She nodded and smiled. ‘Of course. That can be the only explanation.’ The note in her pocket burned into guilt like a hot coal.
Much later, with Violet’s hand bandaged and Mountford gone, Amaryllis came to her bedchamber.
‘I have seen him before, the man who attacked you. Harland knew him.’
Violet nodded. She had recognised him, too, for she had once met him in London, in Harland’s company.
‘So it is probable this is not just coincidence, all of this? Could your assailant know about what happened in the stables?’
Violet shook her head. ‘He couldn’t.’ She infused as much certainty into her words as she was able. ‘But I don’t think we should take any chances. Italy will be a godsend for you and the children.’
‘You would not come?’ Shock was in Amaryllis’s eyes. ‘You would stay behind by yourself? They have tried to get you once and will do so again.’
‘I can’t disappear for ever and Aurelian de la Tomber will protect me. I know it.’
