The Lady Travelers Guide to Happily Ever After Page 13

  “Good Lord.” Violet widened her eyes. “You more than like him.”

  “No.” Cleo scoffed then grimaced. “Well, possibly.” She sighed. “I haven’t felt so much as a twinge of attraction for any man since my husband died and that was seven years ago. Quite honestly, I don’t know how I feel and it’s entirely too soon to feel anything at all. I barely know the man. But...”

  “But?”

  “But I think perhaps I’d like to. Know him better, that is.” She heaved an annoyed sigh. “It’s all quite confusing.”

  “I can see that.” Violet chose her words with care. “You’ve spent the last six years by my side. Sacrificing your own happiness for mine—”

  “Don’t be silly. I didn’t sacrifice anything, least of all happiness. These years have been the most exciting of my life. If it wasn’t for you, I never would have traveled the world. Seen things most people never will. Met the most extraordinary people. I wouldn’t trade these last six years for anything.”

  “Even so,” Violet said gently, “perhaps it’s time to put your needs and wants and desires above mine.”

  Cleo’s brow furrowed. “Are you discharging me?”

  “Absolutely not!” Violet paused. “But few men wish their wives to be employed and I would—”

  Cleo laughed. “Goodness, Violet, you have me married to the man already. Thus far, we’ve shared nothing more than a bit of conversation and a few dances. Neither Marcus nor I are ready to march down the aisle.”

  “So it’s Marcus, is it?”

  “Yes, it is, and we are simply, I don’t know, friends at the moment. As for anything more...” Cleo grinned. “Well, we shall see.”

  Violet’s grin matched her friend’s. “Indeed, we shall.”

  They chatted about last night’s ball for a few minutes then Cleo left to meet Marcus. No more than a half an hour later, Andrews announced Violet had a caller in the front parlor. This was it then.

  Violet checked her appearance in the pier mirror outside the parlor doors, adopted her most welcoming smile and stepped into the room, closing the doors behind her. “Good day, Duncan. How very good...”

  Viscount Welles leaned against the fireplace mantel, arms crossed over his chest, looking extraordinarily handsome and more than a little irate.

  “According to gossip you and your husband have reconciled your differences.”

  “What? No polite preliminaries?” There was nothing better than polite preliminaries to diffuse a situation. “No good day, Violet? No, you’re looking lovelier than ever, Violet? You’re just going to leap right into it?”

  His jaw tensed. “Good day, Violet. You’re looking lovelier than ever, Violet.”

  Of course, it didn’t always work. She cast him a brilliant smile. “Much better.”

  “Gossip has it—”

  “Goodness, Duncan, you know better than to believe gossip.” She waved off the comment.

  “And yet here you are.” A grim note sounded in his voice. “Imagine my surprise when I returned to London to learn you and James are living in the same house together, attending social events together, riding in the park early in the morning. Together.”

  She frowned. “How on earth did you know about that?”

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten what life in London is like. There are few secrets here.”

  “I suppose I should have expected it.” She settled on the sofa and waved him to the nearest chair.

  He ignored her and sat down by her side. “Are you and James—”

  “No,” she said quickly then winced. “It’s, well, complicated?”

  “Oh?”

  “And rather hard to explain.”

  “Because it’s complicated?”

  “Oh, good.” She beamed. “I knew you would understand.”

  His brows drew together. “Understand what?”

  She drew a deep breath. “You must promise not to reveal what I am about to tell you to anyone.”

  “Violet, what on earth is going on?” Concern shone in his eyes. “Has James threatened you in some—”

  “No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” She paused. “The threat is not to me. Well, not entirely.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Allow me to explain.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  She mustered a weak smile. “As you know, James’s Uncle Richard died a few months ago.”

  Duncan nodded.

  “He always thought James and I should be together.” She searched for the right words. There didn’t seem to be any. “James will not inherit Uncle Richard’s property or fortune unless he and I share a residence, appear as a couple and avoid scandal for the next, well, slightly less than three years.”

  He stared. “Three years?”

  “Not quite three years,” she said brightly. “Actually, it’s two years, ten months, two weeks and five days as of today. More or less.”

  He ignored her. “And you have agreed to this?”

  “There didn’t seem to be much of a choice.”

  “Of course there was a choice.” He glared. “You could have said no. You could have told James you have made plans for your life that do not include him. You could have told him you wished to seek a divorce.”

  She winced. “I suppose I could have.”

  “For the last year, you haven’t wanted to bring up the subject of divorce because you didn’t want to upset the old earl. I thought you decided, now that he is gone, there was no longer any reason to put off seeking a divorce.”

  “I did, however—”

  “It’s complicated?”

  “Yes, it is!” She rose to her feet and paced. “I don’t expect you to understand.” She paused. “No, actually, I do expect you, of all people, to understand.”

  He stood. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Violet, but I don’t. I know that financially you don’t have to do this. Even if you did, I can take care of you.”

  “Thank you for the generous offer, but I have no need to be taken care of. Nor do I wish to be.”

  “Yes, I know, ” he said with a long-suffering sigh. In spite of all of Duncan’s many fine points he simply couldn’t comprehend that a woman might well enjoy financial independence and the freedom to make her own decisions. “You’ve been very clear on that point.”

  “Men are not the only ones who wish to stand on their own, you know.”

  He eyed her warily. “Yes, you mention that with unending frequency.”

  “It can’t be said often enough.” She paused. “As for James and me.” She squared her shoulders and met Duncan’s gaze directly. “James did not abandon me when he could have easily done so. I shall not abandon him when it is within my power to save him.”

  “Because you’re in love with him?” The hard tone in his voice matched the look in his eyes.

  “Don’t be absurd. Love has nothing to do with this.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You and I have been meeting in various parts of the world for nearly two years now. Have I ever once given you any indication I was in love with James?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “Why, the very idea that I would be in love with my husband is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Methinks thou dost protest too much.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “The moment a man thinks he’s losing an argument he throws Shakespeare into the conversation as if that alone will prove his point. First of all, the correct quotation is The lady doth protest too much, methinks. And secondly, I don’t protest too much. I don’t protest nearly enough. In love with James? How utterly ridiculous.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite.”

  “That’s something, I suppose.” His gaze searched hers. “I have always known my
feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me.”

  She couldn’t deny it even if it seemed rather unkind to admit aloud. “I am very fond of you, Duncan.”

  “And I have been willing to accept that with the hope that your feelings would grow stronger over time.”

  “I have never lied to you. I’ve told you right from the beginning how I felt.”

  “We made plans, Violet.”

  “No, Duncan.” She shook her head. “What we discussed were possibilities.”

  “I had hoped they were more than mere possibilities.” He sighed. “But you’re right. You made me no promises.”

  “I do consider you a dear friend,” she said with affection.

  “Yes, well, it’s not enough, is it?” He studied her closely.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Just because you’ve agreed—”

  “That’s not it. Not entirely.” She thought for a moment. “James gave me the freedom and the finances to see the world. To become who I’ve become. Before my marriage I was not the type of girl a man like you paid any attention to whatsoever. It wasn’t until we ran into each other a few years ago that you noticed me at all.”

  He stared at her. “You were indeed shy and soft-spoken but intelligent and quietly lovely. Not at all the kind of girl who would look twice at someone as loud and reckless and foolish as I was.”

  “What?” She shook her head in confusion. Was she the only one who remembered the past accurately? Or were everyone else’s memories far more exact than hers?

  “I was not at all worthy of you then, Violet, and I knew it. But I am now. And if I have to spend the next three years proving it to you, I will,” he said.

  “I can’t ask you to wait for three years,” she said slowly.

  “You’re not.” He smiled, stepped closer and took her hand. “I cannot imagine my life without you, Violet, and if I have to wait a lifetime, if only for the merest possibility that you could truly be mine, I will.” He raised her hand to his lips and gazed into her eyes. “It seems a small enough price to pay.”

  “Duncan, I—”

  “I have no intention of giving up.” He brushed his lips across the back of her hand. “I will fight for you if I have to.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said weakly and pulled her hand from his. If she were in love with the man, there would be no question of asking him to wait for her. But she wasn’t and she doubted she ever would be. Oh, in the back of her mind, she had thought perhaps one day they might have a future together. But it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t fair. Duncan deserved better. She drew a deep breath. “I think it’s best if we simply part ways now.”

  His gaze bored into hers. “Is that what you really want?”

  “I can’t expect you to give up three years of your life on the chance that my feelings might change.” She gazed up at him. “This entire situation, my whole life really, it’s—”

  He smiled. “Complicated?”

  “Well, yes.” She shook her head. “I’m so very sorry, Duncan. I wouldn’t have hurt you for anything in the world.”

  “My feelings haven’t changed.” He headed toward the door. “But I do understand the rules now and I agree to play by them.”

  “What do you mean?” She frowned. “What rules?”

  “You and James have to appear as a happy couple with no gossip or scandal. I shall not intrude on that. But I can’t imagine there isn’t a legal way out of this.”

  “Uncle Richard was very determined and his solicitors were quite thorough.”

  “Not as determined as I am.” He grinned. “And as long as you’re not in love with him—I have a chance. Even if it takes three years.”

  “I really don’t think—”

  “I meant it when I said I do not intend to give up.” He started to open the door then paused. “Do remember one thing, Violet. I am willing to fight for you. Do you think your husband will ever say the same?” With that, he took his leave.

  Violet drew her brows together. Well, that didn’t go as she thought it would. But Duncan really did deserve better than someone who was merely fond of him. What on earth did that nonsense about not giving up mean? She’d thought she was rather clear that he should move on with his life.

  Even more absurd, Duncan worried that she was in love with her husband. That was the silliest thing he’d said. Once, long ago, she had been smitten with James. But whatever her feelings had been then she was smart enough now not to allow them to reoccur.

  “Good morning, Violet.” James strode into the parlor.

  She summoned a pleasant smile. “Afternoon now, I believe.”

  “A telegram arrived for you just as I did.” He handed her an envelope.

  “Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment—in her experience telegrams rarely brought good news—then steeled herself, ripped it open and scanned the brief message.

  “Was that Welles I saw leaving just now?”

  “Lord Welles, yes,” she said absently. Surely she was misreading this message.

  “What did he want?”

  “Just paying a call. Welcoming me back to London, that sort of thing.” She sank down onto the sofa. This couldn’t possibly be right.

  “Didn’t he do that last night?”

  She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the words that seemed to swim on the page.

  “Violet?” Concern sounded in his voice. “Is something wrong?”

  She stared at the paper in her hand. According to the dear friend in Paris who managed her fortune, it was gone. All of it. Her investments had failed. A letter would soon follow to explain everything, although it did seem how it had happened was not nearly as important as the very fact that it did.

  “Violet!” James’s sharp tone caught her attention and she jerked her gaze to his. “What’s wrong? Is it bad news?”

  “Bad news?” Her money was gone and with it her independence. It was one thing to follow Richard’s stipulations because she was doing the right thing out of a sense of gratitude and fairness, and something else altogether to have no options whatsoever. If James lost everything, so would she.

  “Are you all right?” James sat on the sofa beside her.

  “Yes.” She forced a casual tone. “Just some unexpected news. Nothing serious, really.”

  “Are you sure?” His gaze searched hers. “You seem upset.”

  “No, really, I’m fine.” At once she realized the very fact that abiding by the terms of Richard’s will was her choice gave her an escape of sorts should she choose to use it. More importantly, it kept her life in her own hands. Loss of her finances—her independence—tore that away and changed everything. The stakes in the game Richard had conceived had just risen. She had as much to lose now as James.

  Six years ago, the decisions regarding her future had been made for her. Now, it seemed it was happening again.

  And there was nothing she could do about it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  VIOLET STARED IN the mirror outside the parlor doors.

  For a moment, a young woman—a girl, really—on her way to the engagement party of her friend and the man who made Violet Hagen’s heart ache with longing looked back at her. A girl who had long ago learned it was better to keep her opinions to herself, to do what was expected of her and follow all the rules laid down by society and her mother. A girl lacking in self-esteem, who had no idea who she could become. Or who she truly wanted to be.

  She shook her head to clear it. At once twenty-one-year old Violet vanished and the Countess of Ellsworth gazed back. Sophisticated, confident, a woman without doubt, who knew who she was. She’d had six weeks since her mother had notified her of her sister’s engagement ball, six weeks to prepare for tonight, although she suspected a lifetime would not be enough. Tonight she would face the cream of Londo
n society for the first time as Lady Ellsworth. Certainly she had been to a few social events when she had returned to London through the years, although she was always circumspect and rarely stayed long. But she did rather like when men like Evan, who now sought her out, didn’t remember that they’d once paid no attention to her at all.

  Still, society was one thing, her mother something else altogether. She would have been happy to ignore her oldest daughter’s very existence a few months ago. But now that Violet and James were apparently together, now that they were Lord and Lady Ellsworth, her daughter was no longer an embarrassment and their presence would add an extra touch of distinction to the family. Mother had always been fond of distinction.

  The elegant, self-possessed woman in the mirror raised her chin and adopted a brilliant smile. Tonight was a test of sorts. Violet Hagen would not have been up to the challenge. But Lady Ellsworth, a woman of the world who was as much at home in a castle in Bavaria or a villa in the south of France as she was in the grand mansions of Mayfair did not accept failure.

  The irony was not lost on her that six years ago another engagement ball had changed her life. It did feel as though what began then would come full circle tonight.

  “You look exquisite.” James stepped up behind her and met her gaze in the mirror. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

  She started to protest then smiled instead. She’d ordered the gown from the House of Worth in Paris as soon as she’d known the date of the ball. The famous couturier had her measurements and it was a simple matter to write and explain what she wanted. As always, Mr. Worth had outdone himself. The pale green satin gown, with its beaded cap sleeves that bared her shoulders, elegant adorned skirt and cleverly draped bustle really was one of the most flattering things she’d ever worn. The color brightened her eyes, made her skin somehow look creamier and highlighted the deep red of her hair. “That’s very nice of you to say.”

  “I shall be the most fortunate man at the ball with you on my arm,” he said staunchly.

  “Goodness, James, one would think you were trying to turn my head.”

  He grinned, that vaguely wicked grin of his that promised all sort of wonderfully wicked things. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore that promise.