Fate Is A Stranger: Regency Romance (18 page)

She wondered why he wanted a sample of Violet’s handwriting. What did he intend to do with it? She thought about it for a while. She determined that he was planning to imitate Violet’s handwriting for some sinister reason of his own.

Lady de Compte went to her room to calm down. It would not do to be a bag of nerves. There was no getting out of it so she might as well do her best so that she would not get caught.

What about right now, she wondered, eager now to get the thing done and be rid of the problem.

Where would she find a chambermaid at this moment? Well, their bedroom wasn't yet tidied up, so a chambermaid would likely be coming at some time during the day to clean the room. Yet who knew at what time and if it would be during the afternoon?

She was getting a headache from the problem of how to contact a maid. She never even looked at the maids when she visited other houses, let alone request such a thing from one of them.

The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that getting a maid to do the deed for her would only leave a witness behind to blab about who had bribed her to obtain the sample. An inexperienced girl would not be able to withstand heavy questioning. She knew that whatever Cade was planning was criminal. If she had a witness against her, things would not go well for her.

Vera decided that secrets shared were secrets no more. She just could not have someone bearing witness against her.

She must go call on Violet, with the excuse of being concerned about her mother's cold. She could then see the lay of the room, perhaps even find out where Violet kept her bedroom key or if her maid kept the key.

After calming herself with half a cup of cold tea that had remained on a tray, Vera left her bedroom and headed toward Violet's room, which was in the same corridor as hers.

She knocked on the door and Violet's maid, Maribel, answered. Lady de Compte recognized the girl from the journey to the castle, part of which she had made with Violet and her family.

"Miss Violet went for a walk, my lady," said the girl, smiling as she recognized Lady de Compte.

"And has she been gone long?" Vera asked. She felt slightly ill at this sudden shower of unexpected good fortune. She looked around discreetly.

"Miss Violet will return shortly, ma'am. Would you like to wait for her or shall I tell her you called?" Maribel had an armful of folded linen.

"I have something to discuss with her. I would wait a while. Would you mind very much if I wait in here?"

"No, my lady, not at all," said Maribel. “I would not allow anyone I did not know inside, but since you are well known to my mistress I suppose it will be all right."

"I was just going a few doors down to Lord and Lady Kelly's room, my lady," she added, "to take Lady Kelly’s linen that I ironed for her. I'll be right back, if it's all right with you."

"Oh, certainly, don't mind me at all, Maribel," Lady de Compte assured her, "Just go on to Lady Kelly’s bedroom. I'll just sit here by the window to wait for Miss Durbin."

The moment Maribel had left, Vera sprung up and with her heart pounding fit to burst out of her chest and her head feeling tight as cork she dashed to a table where she saw a writing case she recognized as belonging to Violet. She had seen Violet writing a letter on it when she had journeyed to the castle with her.

Vera tried to open the writing case quickly, her fingers tangling in her haste to do it before either Violet or Maribel returned.

She finally pulled up the little latch and saw a packet of letters tied with a ribbon. She undid the ribbon and took the letter that was at the bottom of the pile so that it would not be missed. She then saw that the letter was
to
Violet, from a friend. It was certainly not Violet's handwriting. Vera then replaced the letter in the stack and sifted through the paper in the other side of the case.

She finally found a partly written letter, a letter that Violet was writing to her brother Calvin, who had stayed behind. It was dated two days before. She would surely miss it if Vera took it. But Vera felt she had no choice. She remembered Cade and she decided that she would rather not face Cade without the sample handwriting.

Vera took the sheet of paper, stuffed it into her bosom and brought down the lid of the writing case down, all the time her heart hammering with fear fit to burst out of her chest. And just as she was turning away from the stationery case the door opened and Annie walked back into the room.

"You know, what, Maribel, I believe I shall just wait until I see Violet at the ball tonight." She hoped the girl did not detect the tremor in her voice. "I just wanted to ask Violet her opinion on some decorations for my ball next week in London."

"I shall tell Miss Violet you called, my lady."

"Thank you, dear. I believe I must go, for I must rest and get ready for the ball."

"Yes, my lady," said Maribel as she walked to the door and held it open for her.

Clutching her bosom and wondering at her amazing luck at how easy the task had been, Vera went down the hall in haste, in the direction of Lord Souten's room. The half-written letter burned her chest and she was anxious to get rid of it as fast as possible.

"It is an excellent example of her handwriting," said Cade with great satisfaction. "Good work, Vera. Did you have difficulty in obtaining it?"

"I almost fainted from fear," said Vera, her voice a squeak. Her face was ashen. She had never been more afraid of being caught than she had been when she stole that letter.

At least she would not have anyone bearing witness against her with whatever Cade was planning to use the letter for. And she was certain his intentions were very sinister. She was so afraid of his answer to this that she would forgo asking, rather than being saddled with a knowledge she would rather not possess.

"There is something else I want you to do, Vera."

"Cade, please! I almost had an apoplexy from what you had me do. I haven't yet recovered from that and you are asking for something else? Have pity!"

CHAPTER 18

Tonight she would keep her attention on the ball and her mind away from Hawk, for she should not torture herself with thoughts of a man whose only aim was to make her his mistress.

Jared had already secured two dances from her and though she was not attracted to him in the way he would have liked, yet she was very fond of him, as fond as she would be of a younger brother.

She determined that she would do as her father wished and concentrate on Jared’s suit. He had declared his love for her and assured her that the moment he attained his majority he would propose to her. How different he was from his uncle! She doubted the duke would allow him even to propose matrimony but it was still flattering that Jared did not see her as most of society did.

This was reason enough to return Jared's affection. She was certain she would grow to love such a sweet young man who loved her dearly. No other girl in her position would hesitate to accept, should he propose. And by doing so she would also please her father, who was eager for her to accept Jared’s proposal. Henceforth she would stop resisting both her father, to whom she owed her life, and Jared, who loved her dearly.

Carte blanche and a temporary love. That was the only thing the duke had offered her. And this was the man she had fallen in love with. Had she no pride?

It was ironic, also, that Lord Souten had also proposed to her. His was a legitimate proposal and although Violet was repulsed by him, and found his ardent passion disquieting and alarming, she could not but realize that the duke, who professed to have the greatest regard for her still was the only one of the three who meant only to make her his mistress.

* * *

So deep in thought was Violet on her return to the house that she did not see Hawk walking toward her.

Hawk had seen Violet from a distance and had quickened his pace. As he reached her he saw that she was distressed, for she was frowning. Then at that moment she looked up at the sky, a sky that was high and immense and a splendor of clouds on lavender and azure.

Hawk observed Violet as her eyes lingered on the sky. She then sighed deeply, closed her eyes like a wood nymph and smiled. And there was such a sudden joy in her smile as to make Hawk's breath catch at his throat.

I want that joy
, he thought.

His steps had brought him almost upon her and she was still oblivious of him. A very sobering thought for a duke.

"Miss Durbin, take care or you shall crash into me!"

"Oh! Your grace! Do forgive me. I'm afraid I was lost in thought."

"I do wish you would call me Hawk," he said, annoyed, "Why do you insist on being so formal?"

"I cannot engage in familiarity with a duke, sir, it would be unseemly. After all, as Lady Bea reminded me just this morning, I am only nineteen."

"Yes, but you are a woman, Miss Durbin, not a debutante, however nineteen you may be."

"Yes. I am a woman, not a virginal girl, your grace, as you have taken great care to remind me a few times during my stay here."

"Sometimes, I feel you are older even than I, Miss Durbin, so much wiser you seem to be. Please forgive me if I have been insensitive."

"No one lets me forget the past, sir, so why should
you
be any different?"

"Yes, why, indeed," said the duke, almost to himself, for Violet had turned on her heel and had walked quickly away from him at such a fast pace that she soon caught up with a girl who was walking down the lane, a girl Hawk recognized as Lady Galena.

"Violet, I have been looking for you," said Galena.

"Oh? Well, here I am," said Violet, glad that she had been able to suppress the tears that had threatened to surface in her eyes as Galena laced her arm in hers. Both girls then continued walking toward the other end of the lane.

Hawk, angry with himself, thought to seek the comfort of a glass of brandy and meditation in his study.

Tonight.

Tonight at the ball he must seal this deal, he thought. He was going mad with yearning. And it was no use fooling himself, he was on the brink of falling hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Violet if he was not already. He must find a way to convince her of the attraction of his offer, of what he had to give. Surely a woman of nineteen could not balk at such an offer of power and wealth.

Her hesitation must be the result of the lessons she had learned at her mother's knee.

He could not believe the daughter of a woman like Sadie, no matter that she was now "Lady Kelly" would not have been taught the arts of seduction and artifice that had been honed by her Cyprian mother. Is not a daughter a product of her mother, especially since they had been very close?

But then would not such an assessment then make Hawk the image of the fourth duke—his father, and a man Hawk considered an unrepentant rascal? If Hawk believed Sadie's daughter could not be anything but a courtesan at heart, then he should apply equal justice to himself and consider that he could just as likely be a copy of the fourth duke.

Uncomfortably, Hawk recalled that his father married late in life because he preferred the company of the demi-monde. Was Hawk like his father in this respect?

Should a person be saddled with his past and his parents' past as well as original sin? That was too much of a burden to carry. Yet this burden was what he had expected Violet to carry.

He had callously reminded her that she was not a virginal maiden.

His thoughts were disquieting. He had made a house party at great cost and all so that he could be even closer in character to the fourth duke.

An unpleasant memory of a soiree just as grand and expensive as this one when he was about seventeen came back to haunt him. And he remembered unpleasantly that the gossip he heard was that his father had arranged the whole affair in order to entice Lady Blanchiere, the woman he was lusting after, the wife of a French diplomat.

* * *

"Ah, Violet, at last I find you alone. I hope you gave Uncle Perry a good set down. I saw you earlier in what from a distance seemed like an argument."

"How glad I am to see, you, Jared" said Violet. "Yes, your uncle can be trying at times."

"At times? I should say
always
. Only three more months until I attain my majority Violet.

"I was looking for you so that we might make a date of it. Write it down in your calendar, sweet Violet, October 29
th
, for it is the day I am to see your father and formally propose matrimony to you."

"I doubt your uncle would allow it. It would only create a rift between you."

"He will get mad to no avail, because though he may be one of my trustees still, he cannot forbid me marriage to anyone of my liking."

"But it would still create havoc in your family. No one in your family would approve of me, your uncle least of all."

"My uncle least of all because he wants you for himself. But do consider, is his offer one that honors you? No!"

"I am glad you will attain your majority, but let us not speak of any offers now."

"I am to meet a friend in the village who is coming to attend the ball but I just wanted to remind you of my birthday and what is to happen on that date, so that I sleep with the knowledge that you know the date is nearing. I shall leave you now, for it is getting late for my appointment, but do keep me in your thoughts. You will do this for me, Violet?"

"Go along to meet your friend, Jared. I have fond thoughts of you always," she assured him.

Perhaps if she began to allow her mind to think along these lines, she would not see Jared, who was a very attractive young man, as the immature boy she had always thought him to be. In time she would become accustomed to the idea of marriage to him. She was already very fond of him. Fondness could very well turn into love, could it not?

"That is all I wanted to hear," Jared said, beaming.

* * *

Violet remained in the garden for some time and after a while saw Galena approaching.

"I was wondering where you were, Violet," said Galena as she came upon Violet, "Was that the duke's nephew I saw you talking to?"

"Yes," said Violet, "are you acquainted with him?"

"Not very much, though I often run into him at balls. His uncle keeps him on a tight leash."

"Not so very tight," Violet said with a laugh, merely to make conversation, yet as her face was turned away from Galena she didn't see a look of loathing pass over that girl's face.

Violet recalled how sweetly Jared looked at her and how again he professed his love for her. She could surely do worse than marry an honorable man like him.

"Do you consider Jared terribly unlike his uncle and guardian, the duke?" Galena's voice cut across Violet's thoughts.

"They are just different personalities," said Violet carefully. She was experienced with the way that an innocent remark was often carried literally by the wind, it seemed, and the last person to hear it heard a distorted version.

"Are you looking forward to the ball, Galena?" she asked in an effort to change the subject.

"Yes, very much so," Galena replied. "I’m anxious to wear the ball gown I had made just for such an occasion."

"It will be a majestic setting for your gown. I have never seen a place where gowns look more enhanced than in the vast ballroom of the castle."

"The duke seems eager for your company." Galena looked keenly at Violet. "Are you interested in him, Violet? "

Violet caught an intense look in Galena’s eyes and in that instant realized that Galena was after the duke, so she measured her words when she replied to her.

"He is an attractive man, but so is his nephew, and Jared is closer to my age."

"Is something the matter?" asked Violet, concerned for Galena, for Galena had suddenly turned very pale and her step had faltered.

"I—perhaps I should sit in that bench for a minute."

"Yes, let me help you, Galena." Violet, directed Galena to the bench.

"I suppose the walk was a bit long for me," said Galena, "I usually don’t walk so far."

"Just sit still and don't talk, Galena, so that you may calm yourself and rest. It is a beautiful day and sitting here in silence will be very soothing to you. See how that bed of lilies flutters in the wind and those banks of gladioli are a burst of color."

"I believe I’m all right now," said Galena. "Let’s go back to the castle, for Mama will be worried about me."

Later that night she told her mother how Violet blabbed on like an idiot about flowers and such, and that she couldn’t understand what the duke saw in her when she was of a lowly background.

The subject of the castle brought to her mind the yearning to possess both the castle and the title of duchess that daily fed on her soul, to the point where she sometimes wanted to scream. She saw that Violet made great headway with the duke while the few dances Galena was able to procure had been done with maneuvering and subterfuge.

Such a sudden rage coursed through her that her mother, usually vague about others, noticed it.

"What is it, dear, has that girl upset you? She does seem to take up all of the duke’s attention. She is a lovely creature, indeed.”

"Just be quiet, Mama, you are spewing nonsense, as usual." The thought of Violet's beauty made Galena suddenly sick to her stomach, for it was a beauty she could never hope to equal.

* * *

Violet went up to see her mother and was glad to find her in better spirits. Though her cold had not improved, still she seemed serene and rested. Sadie had found happiness late in life and held it close to her bosom. That Lord Kelly and her mother had finally found each other again was almost a miracle to Violet.

She would be very lucky if she could find a man with whom she could feel as happy as her mother and father were with each other.

"Annie has your gown spread out on your bed for you, my dear. I believe she is just as excited about this ball as anyone is. And Maribel is anxious to start helping you with your hair as it will take at least an hour. I believe you should allow her to start now, for it is getting late. The afternoon is waning."

Was it possible to be happy and sad about a ball at the same time? Perhaps it was, thought Violet, as Maribel worked on her hair.

Violet closed her eyes. She always thought better with her eyes closed and she felt a need to examine something else. She wondered why it was that she felt an underlying menace, a feeling of impending doom.

Something was lurking. Aunt Bea had hit it right on the head when she spoke of it. She feared a man, yet would not name him. Which man? Did she mean Souten?

"Is Aunt Bea in her room, Maribel?"

"Yes, Miss Violet. She's there and said she'd be right back here as soon as Annie finishes her hair."