Chapter Seventeen
Violet took a small sip of her wine. Her husband sat across from her, brooding into his food, his fork pushing potatoes around the plate. He had surprised her by joining her for dinner tonight. She hadn’t seen him in several days.
“How are you feeling, Violet?” Stuart looked up at her. “Still sick?”
She shook her head. “No, the morning sickness appears to have abated. I’ve been back to my old self this past week. I even went out and did some shopping the other day.”
“That’s good.” He took a long draught of his wine. “My father asked after your health.”
Ah, that’s why he had asked. Violet took a bite of veal, the delicious gravy bursting with flavor on her tongue. She really must compliment the cook. It was such a pleasure to enjoy food again. “How was your visit with the duke? I’m sorry I was not able to accompany you.”
Stuart frowned. “He just wanted to complain about my lack of interest in our holdings. Admonish me for not taking my role as his successor seriously. The usual.” He raised a hand, and one of the footmen hurried over to refill his glass.
“Perhaps we should take a trip to visit one of the houses. It might be nice to get out of the city. And you could show your father that you do have an interest in learning how the estates run.” She peeked up at Stuart, and just as she expected, his face contorted with a sneer.
“In February? There is nothing entertaining to do in the country. At least in the summer, there is riding, and hunting in the fall.”
“Well, perhaps you could just send me, then.” She hoped she sounded nonchalant.
“No.” His frown deepened. “You belong with me. Why do you want to leave me for the country?”
At his tone, Violet tried to keep a steady hand as she reached for her glass of wine. “I simply thought the fresh country air might be good for the baby, that’s all.”
He grunted, then stabbed a piece of potato and stuffed it into his mouth.
He had eaten barely anything, but she had noticed the footman leave the room to refill the wine carafe.
She’d hoped to plant the seed that he could send her to the country for the duration of her pregnancy, but her instincts were telling her that Stuart’s mood was becoming increasingly volatile, so she decided to change the subject.
“Shall we attend the Pierson ball on Saturday? I am finally feeling up to attending social functions again.”
“Bloody Pierson cleaned me out last night at the piquet table. He and his chums always seem to win. Cheated me, is what I think. We will not be attending his party.”
Violet kept her sigh silent. “Well, I will look through our invitations and see what might be diverting.” She finished eating in silence. Trying to make conversation with Stuart was exhausting.
Stuart continued to brood over his wine long after she wanted to leave the table.
From experience, she dared not rise to leave before him.
As the silence stretched, though, she became increasingly irate.
Stuart mostly ignored her unless he wanted to exercise his marital rights.
He was off with friends doing God knows what most days, but became upset if she visited any of her friends, even just for tea.
She was only allowed to go to social events with him.
And now he’d decided to dine with her and had spent the entire dinner sulking like a petulant child.
Well, she was tired. All she wanted was to change into her cozy dressing gown and read her novel.
Violet laid her hands on the tabletop and pushed up out of her seat before any of the footmen could rush over to pull back the chair.
“I think I shall retire for the evening. Good night, husband.”
As she passed his chair, he reached out and grasped her wrist. “My lady, won’t you keep me company tonight?” His other hand spanned her waist. He squeezed and then chuckled. “You really are starting to get fat.”
“I am with child. What did you think would happen?” she replied hotly. She tugged her arm from his grasp. “I’m tired, Stuart. I am going to retire.”
“Is this how it’s going to be now? You are going to be tired and cranky?” he sneered.
She knew better than to take his bait, so she just moved toward the doors. If she could just get upstairs, perhaps he would go back to his wine and leave her alone. She hurried through to the hall.
But luck was not with her tonight. Stuart followed across the front foyer. “If you won’t service me anymore, perhaps it’s time that I take a proper mistress.”
At the base of the stairs, Violet whirled around. “Perhaps you should. I give you my blessing if you only send me away to one of the country houses to have this baby.”
His expression darkened. He stalked over to her. “No, you belong here with me. And I don’t need your permission for anything I do.” He grabbed her arm painfully. “Do you hear me? You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Violet glared up at him. “No, that’s your father’s job. You don’t even know how to run all of what will be yours one day.”
Stuart stepped back and then slapped her across the face, sending her stumbling backward against the newel post.
Violet grasped her skirts up, turned, and fled up the stairs.
“Where do you think you are going?” Stuart yelled from below.
She only made it halfway up the grand sweep of marble stairs before he caught her by the dress. She fell forward but managed to catch herself with her hands. The jarring impact shot up to her shoulders.
Stuart twisted her to face him, his body pinning her to the stairs.
“You need to be taught a lesson in obedience.” He took her mouth in a punishing kiss.
“Maybe if I take you right here on the stairs like a common harlot, you would learn that you’re mine.
” Then his tongue was pushing into her mouth. He shoved her skirts up over her knees.
Violet wrenched her head to the side. “Stuart, stop! Get off me. You’re being an animal!”
Abruptly, Stuart rolled off of her and sat on the step, breath heaving. Violet didn’t hesitate. She scrambled to her feet and raced to the top of the stairs.
“Violet, wait!” Stuart stalked up the stairs after her. “Don’t you run from me. I am your husband!” He grabbed her arm just as she managed the top step.
“Stuart, let me go.”
He shook her like a rag doll. His face contorted with anger, his breath thick with alcohol. “You don’t run from me. You’re mine. Do you hear me?”
She jerked back from him as hard as she could muster, pulling her arm from his painful grip.
Stuart stumbled backward. One foot slipped to the next stair tread below. His arms pinwheeled. His expression morphed to panic as he lost his balance. He reached out with one hand to grasp her.
An instinct for self-preservation kicked in, and Violet stepped back out of his reach.
His eyes widened, and then he was tumbling backward down the stairs. Head over heels, he fell. He landed at the bottom with a loud thud. She stared down in horror at his crumpled form, face down on the black and white tiles, his head turned unnaturally too far to one side. Oh God.
A high-pitched scream ripped from her chest.
*
Servants came running into the foyer. The scramble of people below barely registered as she stared down at the still form of her husband. The panic in his eyes right before he fell flashed, and she began to tremble uncontrollably.
Hodgins looked up at her from the bottom of the stairs. “He’s dead, ma’am. His neck is broken.”
Ginny came racing down the upstairs corridor. She took one look down at Stuart’s body and gasped. “Dear God!”
Violet stared down at Hodgins. His gaze was filled with understanding. “I saw everything, my lady. Ginny, take Lady Sommerset to her rooms. She was never here.”
Ginny wrapped an arm around her shoulders to turn her from the horrible sight of Stuart’s lifeless body.
Violet didn’t turn from Hodgins, though.
“Call for the duke. He will want to see for himself.” Then she allowed her maid to lead her away.
In her room, Ginny guided her to a chair by the fire.
Despite the heat, Violet couldn’t stop trembling.
Stuart falling down those stairs played over and over in her mind. “Is he really dead?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. Looked that way, though.” Ginny wrapped a soft throw blanket around her shoulders.
“Can you go check? Ask Hodgins to make sure.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, can he really be dead?”
Ginny disappeared from the room. Violet had no concept of how long she had been gone, but when Ginny returned, she simply nodded.
Stuart was dead. And it was her fault.
Violet stared into the flames. How much time passed, she wasn’t aware. She twisted the gold band on her thumb around and around. The duke’s deep voice boomed from a distance. The anguish in it pierced her stupor. She closed her eyes against the angry words. More yelling. Then silence.
Then the duke’s imposing form filled the open doorway. “Violet. Mr. Hodgins said they told you what happened.”
She tried and failed to clear the huge lump from her throat. In the end, she just nodded.
“I am going to take his body to my house to lay in respite. I think it’s best. I need to take care of my boy—” His voice cracked. “Do you want to come stay at Sommerset House?”
She shook her head.
Ginny stepped next to her. “We’ll take good care of her, my lord.”
“Are you sure, Violet? I don’t want the shock of tonight to jeopardize the pregnancy.”
Of course. The baby was his concern. Violet sucked in a breath and finally found her voice. “I think I will be more comfortable here in my own chambers.”
The duke nodded. When he left, Violet turned back to the fire.
The horrible scene kept replaying over and over.
His rough treatment. Her instinct to flee, to keep her baby safe.
Her panic when he made a grab for her. Taking the step back to keep him from pulling her down with him.
The thuds and cracking sounds as he fell.
The slap of his body as he hit the marble tiles at the bottom.
“My lady. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable if we got you ready for bed?”
She turned to blink up at Ginny. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight, ma’am. Everyone’s gone. The house is quiet. Can I get you ready for bed?”
Violet nodded and rose to her feet. She felt lightheaded, though, and swayed on her feet.
She let her maid turn her toward the bed.
Ginny undid the row of buttons down the back of her dress and then helped her out of her short stays and stockings.
The whole world felt as though time was moving sluggishly.
Once she was in a long flannel night rail and warm wool socks, she dutifully climbed into bed.
Poor Ginny. Her maid was ever her supporter.
“Go to bed, Ginny.”
“Are you sure? I can stay if you are feeling upset.”
“No, go to bed. I will be fine.”
After Ginny left, Violet could not go to sleep.
She stared wide-eyed at the canopy of her bed as all the emotions from earlier flooded through her, fear being the most prominent.
God, she had been so frightened. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and trailed down her temples to soak the pillow.
Stuart had almost killed her. He would have forced himself on her for sure.
Was he really dead? Was she free? She slapped a hand over her mouth as she gasped at her own traitorous thought.
Stuart was dead, and she was…relieved? What a horrible creature she was.
She flipped back the covers and jumped out of bed.
Pacing to the window, she threw open the sash.
Cold air rushed inside, bringing her fully to her senses for the first time tonight.
A sob escaped her as the horror of the evening raced again through her mind.
She turned and reached for her robe. Throwing it on and slipping her feet into her slippers, she crossed the room and exited to the corridor.
Drawn to the front stairs, she stopped at the top and looked down.
Everything looked just as it always was, but all she saw was Stuart’s body at the bottom.
She could not erase the image. Another sob escaped her chest. She needed to escape.
Violet raced down the stairs and out the front door into the night.