Let It Snow (50 page)

Kit bit back a smile. Violet’s eyes were wide and round like chestnuts, and she coughed into her napkin.

Freddy flashed a grin. “She races faster than a thoroughbred. Sometimes it is useful,” he winked at Kit. “Sometimes, you cannot get a word in edgewise. But she means well. She tells me it is in the very nature of a Gemini to be loquacious.”

“It is!” Bella commandeered the conversation again. “We cannot all be so judicious in our speech as you, Freddy. But then you are a Libra. It is in your nature to be diplomatic and congenial to everyone.”

If only Mrs. Norris would hurry with the duck. If the main course wasn’t served soon, Bella would harangue them all about their stars and spout nonsense about destiny and fortune.

“Freckles, take a bite of bread and let someone else get a word in. Can you not see that Violet looks as alarmed as a rabbit trapped by a fox?” Kit goaded her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist. Bella
hated
to be called Freckles. She’d once tried to set his toys on fire for using her nickname in front of a beau.

“Daniel Cosgrove, if you call me that one more time, I swear I shall go into your trunks and take a scissor to all of your crisp white shirts.” The smile she gave was fit for the devil. She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving his.

“I would not have to resort to such tactics if you would behave in a civilized fashion.”

“Civilized?” Bella’s crystal glass clinked loudly when she slammed her glass onto the table. “You—the gambler, the boxer, the whoremonger—you would dare call me uncivilized? I should grab you by the ear and lock you in a closet without supper.”

Kit and Freddy laughed. Even Violet tried to cover up her chuckle, but didn’t quite manage it.

“I am not ten years old, Bella.”

“Have you grown up then? Does the hair on your chest and your baritone suddenly make you an adult when you have the manners of a child?”

Freddy took his wife’s hand and stroked it between his. “He only teases you, sweetheart. You know that is his way. He means nothing by it. Do not give him the thrill by behaving offended. It only encourages him.”

Bella sighed. “I am sorry, Violet. That was rude to have such discourse at your dinner table. It is only that Kit’s favorite pastime is to vex me and cause trouble. You do not know how hard I have tried to make a gentleman out of him. Marquess he may be, but that is by birth, not by behavior.”

Violet leaned toward Bella. “Do not worry yourself. I, too, have a brother. And while he is not nearly as mischievous as Kit, he certainly does enjoy teasing me.” When her gaze met his, Kit felt his heart pound. The one sideways glance brought the color back into this monochrome evening.

Bella fanned herself. “If I did not have Freddy, I should die of grief looking after Danny. He will send the march and the earldom to ruin. No matter how many pretty countesses and heiresses he meets, he’ll have none for a wife. By the time he finally walks to the altar, I shall be on my deathbed.”

Not this. Not now. Why did she have to bring this up? She could not leave well enough alone. Bella could never once see his side of it. He did not object when she wanted to marry Freddy, despite the fact that Freddy had been a charmer and a rake when she’d set her cap for him. He could have made the responsible choice and insisted that she marry the Conte d’Messina or their cousin, Stewart Elliot, who was set to inherit a fortune on his mother’s side. Instead, Kit had honored her wishes, respected her to choose her own life, which any other man in his place would never have done.

“The marquess is still quite young,” Violet said. “He may yet marry.”

Bella shook her head. “But who will have him if he waits until he’s old and furry and so rotund from his port and whisky that he can hardly sit atop a horse? And knowing Danny, he will offer the march to some actress or opera singer who will spend all of our money before he can get an heir by her.”

Bella had gone too far. Again. When would he learn? She would never change. “That is it, Bella. I have had enough. Why do I bother to make nice with you? Why do I sit around and let you insult me every time I visit? Now you disrespect me in front of—” He stopped himself before he said
the woman I love
. “—Of Violet, who you just met
today
. What will she think of me if my own sister hates me that much?”

Kit stood up from the table. This time, he did not bother to say a word to Freddy. However, he did go to Violet and bent to take her hand. She’d removed her gloves during the first course, so his lips brushed over her supple skin. “I apologize to you, my sweet Violet, for such rude behavior in your fine home. I hold you and Welbury in the highest regard, even if my sister does not. Please do excuse me as I have no appetite at the moment.”

Her parted lips were an invitation, and he wished that they were alone so that he could kiss her. But as usual, Bella had decimated every hope he’d had for a pleasant evening.

Kit turned to the door and did not look back.

* * * *

Violet was speechless. A thunderstorm had begun with no warning. Kit was gone. Bella cried. Freddy gave her an apologetic look and tried to make Isabella smile.

From the corner of her eye, Violet saw Avery against the wall, dutifully waiting for instruction. His normally blank face was still, but his eyes gave him away. He appeared as nonplussed as she’d ever seen him.

“I am sure Kit will calm down,” she said, more to placate her guest than anything else. “He has been sensitive since his injury. I am sure he will be well on the morrow and you can laugh together as siblings do.”

“But you do not know Danny,” Bella said, sniffling into a delicate monogrammed handkerchief. “He has a temper. This isn’t the first time he’s walked out in the middle of supper.”

Violet was suddenly grateful for her brother, Westley. For all of their teasing and disagreements, they could never stay angry with one another.

What should she do? She wanted to go to Kit. He was clearly very upset and while he’d perhaps overreacted, the duchess was quite a handful. Violet had never met a more vivacious—and garrulous—person in all of her life.

“Kit is a man used to having command of everything and everyone,” Violet said. “It is not in his nature to relinquish control to anyone. But you are his elder, and may I presume that your parents died when he was young?” Bella nodded. “I think he does not know how to communicate with you as an equal. In your eyes, he will always be Danny rather than Lord Kittrick.”

It had taken John’s death for Westley to accept the fact that Violet was a grown woman and could make her own decisions. When their mother and father died, he’d taken on the entire responsibility of her well-being onto himself, though she’d never expected that of him.

Violet stood and patted the duchess on the shoulder. “He must love you dearly, Isabella. He would never let me reprimand him as you have done. And were you a man, such an argument would have come to blows or pistols at dawn.”

“You know him very well, don’t you, Mrs.—Violet,” Freddy said, biting his lip after correcting himself. “Kittrick is just as you said. But it took me a good deal longer to understand him.”

“Kit is who he is. He’s a boy who grew up very fast, who wants his family’s approval even as he rails against it. He knows he will never live up to his sister’s expectations, so most of the time, he refuses to try.”

“I am only trying to help him.” Bella looked up into Violet’s eyes and this time she did not see a duchess, but a frightened girl in the midst of a storm. It was hard to be angry at such an effervescent creature, despite her injudicious behavior. Isabella and Kit were both wounded by the absence of their parents and each tried to compensate for it in imprudent ways.

“Let me go and talk to him,” Violet offered.

“I will go with you.”

“No!” Both Freddy and Violet yelled. They exchanged a knowing glance. Bella was too mercurial and Kit needed a calm, reasonable person to talk with right now.

“I will see to him, do not worry.” Violet gave Bella’s hand a squeeze as she walked from the room.

She headed toward the stairs until she saw Adam pointing down the hall. Violet found Kit in the study, helping himself to a glass of brandy.

“Pour me a glass.” Violet came into the room and sat down. As she watched his face, she saw the blackness in his eyes, which had nothing to do with the faint candlelight in the room.

His hand shook as he dipped the decanter and filled her glass. When he set it down, she touched his hand, which was warm under her own.

“You do not have to say anything,” she told him.

“Good.”

His look made her shiver. Should she take him in her arms and kiss him—as she wanted to do? Or should she proceed gingerly and let him speak on his own time?

She listened to the sound of his breathing, heard him gulp down the fiery liquid. He poured another glass.

After a few minutes, Violet decided to speak. “I am sorry that you had a fight with Isabella. I know that upset you and while she only wants to help you, she made things much worse.”

“Aye. She did.”

His pursed lips gave nothing away. The tension in him was as tangible as a bow string, pulled back and ready to aim.

“She will never forgive herself for not being the perfect mother. Maybe you should forgive her, too.”

“I never expected her to be.”

Violet licked her lips and watched him. His hair glistened in the soft orange light and the side of his face was masked in shadow.

“You want her to treat you as a friend, but you have to understand that she will never be that. Not to you.”

“Why?” His dark eyes looked like polished onyx and the break in his voice gave the tear away.

“Bella will always be your guardian, the meddlesome sister who expects more of you than she expects of anyone else.”

“I am the head of the family, Violet. I am the one to make the decisions. Yet she argues with me at every turn.”

“She loves you. She feels responsible for everything you do. Every choice you make, good or bad, reflects on her.”

His voice sliced the air, a thick sword cutting through the fabric that held them together. “You would take
her
side? Over mine?”

“I have taken no one’s side, Kit. Your sister is distraught and crying. I only hoped you would understand why she behaves as she does.”

“What I understand is that she has no respect for me.” His glass jostled as he threw it down. “What I understand is that you came in here to defend her. She was rude to you. She disrespected your home, taking over everything in a few hours as if she were the queen in residence. Why would you defend her?”

Violet stood to stroke his face. “We are all afraid of something, Kit. She is afraid of losing you, losing her parents, of not living up to whatever promises she made to take care of you. Though she goes about it the wrong way, her intentions are good.”

As she spoke, Violet thought of her troubled relationship with her own father. She’d spent so much time trying to please him, trying to be the perfect daughter and when he’d begun losing his mind at the end, he fought her tooth-and-nail though she only sought his safety and comfort. But she had promised her mother and Westley that she would take care of him and no matter how rude he was, she could not break that promise.

Kit sighed. “I can forgive ill intentions. I cannot forgive her continued disrespect.”

She knew he was hurting and she wanted to help him. But she could not hide the truth from him. It was not in her nature. In the war, she’d learned that there were times when the bullet, or the bandage, must be torn off.

Kit was responsible to his family and title. It was something he had to accept, whether or not he agreed with his sister.

“Consider that perhaps if you acted as the marquess, if you showed some inclination toward your responsibilities, then Bella would not act this way.”

“And you think I should just throw off my life, marry some vapid, dimwitted Countess, resign myself to boring days at court and parliament and a wife I cannot stand, all so I can have two heirs and be a proper marquess?”

His face was in hers, and his breath reeked of alcohol. “I said none of that. Kit, all your sister wants is for you to grow up. I realize that your title is not a choice you made. But like it or not, it is yours and cannot be passed off to anyone else until you die. Do you not want to honor your father’s legacy?”

“My father loved whores, dice, and cards. Sometimes he loved stable boys, too.” Kit waived his hand. “Do not tell Bella that. Bella has this memory of our father as a hero, as a man who fought for his country, to subdue the brash Americans and restore the great and noble rule of Britain.” His voice slurred as he spat the words out.

“Then do better than he. Be better than he was.”

Violet realized now that the reason he didn’t tell her about his past had more to do with his family than it did her. Why would he want to go home if he only felt reproach and ridicule from his only sibling and caretaker?

“I am my own man.”

“Yes, you are, Kit. But being a man also means doing things you do not want to do. Because it is right and necessary, not because it is pleasurable or expedient.” She’d learned that in the war, with her family, even with John.

“Why did I think you would understand? I had hoped that you would see things my way. When you walked in here and I saw your heavenly face, I thought my angel had come.” His face sunk and he took the decanter and poured another glass. “But you are like them. You must always have your way.”

If she had her way, they would not be arguing right now. They would be nestled together somewhere far away from everyone and everything, kissing and teasing one another to ecstasy. It was a wish, a fantasy. Right now, she had to do what needed to be done.

“Kit, you need to make up with your sister. You’re inebriated and disconcerted. Go and lie down. Sleep off the brandy and we shall sort out this mess tomorrow.”

Kit stared at Violet, wondering how the day could have gone so wrong. He should have barred Freddy and Bella from the door the moment they arrived. Why hadn’t he sent them packing?