Chapter Twenty-Five #2
She stood from her reading chair. Blast it, she would just go see him tonight. Even if he wasn’t home, Louisa would let her wait for him.
Her door opened, and Ginny poked her head in. “My lady, your mother is here to see you. Mr. Hodgins has put her in the drawing room.”
Her mother had come by unannounced? How very odd. “I will be right down.”
Violet hurried over to the mirror to check her hair.
She smoothed her hands down the silk of her black dress.
Her mother would be pleased to know that the mourning clothes had arrived on Tuesday afternoon.
Violet was glad to have clothes that fit properly.
The waistline of this dress was high enough to not be restrictive.
The fabric of the bodice crisscrossed her bosom, then draped and flowed down behind her in a pretty waterfall effect.
She quickly opened her jewelry box and placed her wedding band back on her finger. Then she headed downstairs.
“Mother, what a pleasant surprise.”
Her mother stood by the front window, looking out. “What in God’s name are you doing, child?”
Violet stopped in her tracks. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Her mother whirled around. Her cheeks were stained with color.
“I have just come from tea at Lady Harlow’s house.
She pulled me aside to tell me that you have been seen around town with some man with a scar down his cheek.
She saw you walking in Hyde Park from her carriage.
And she said Lady Mansfield saw you at the Covent Garden market on the arm of the same man and was telling anybody who wanted to listen at the Davies ball. ”
Violet closed her eyes briefly. Why had she thought there would be any privacy for her, even in her mourning? She crossed and sat down on the settee. “Mother, please sit. I don’t see why my walking in the park with a man is gossip-worthy.”
“It has been less than a month since your husband died, and you are already having an affair with a man no one recognizes? You are supposed to be in mourning. You are ruining your reputation.” Her mother paced from the window to the fireplace and back again. “Who is this man, anyway?”
“His name is Mr. Seaton. He is the half brother of the Duke of Hartwick.”
Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “The criminal?”
“He is not a criminal! He runs several legitimate businesses.” She winced a little at her half-truth, the memory of Rhys killing those two men in the alley behind the brothel still vivid. But it was true that he wasn’t currently part of that gang of criminals.
Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t know which is worse.”
“The fact is, I am widowed. What does it matter who I spend my time with?”
“Don’t be daft, Violet. You are still the Marchioness of Sommerset, and you are carrying the next Duke of Lavensham.
You don’t want people questioning the parentage of your baby, do you?
Most of society did not know you were pregnant until after Stuart’s death.
Lord knows I tried to tell as many people as possible at the funeral.
” She finally perched on a chair across from Violet.
“How you conduct yourself during your mourning period matters. Your reputation affects your family. Think of Jane. She has several good prospects calling on her.”
Violet was so tired of having the entirety of her sister’s prospects resting on her shoulders.
Bitterness rose in her throat. “That is all I have heard for the last two years—think of your sisters, your match ensures their future, be good, stay quiet, don’t antagonize your husband.
Don’t I deserve some happiness now that he is gone? ”
“Nobody deserves happiness,” her mother snapped. “Life is hard, Violet. All you can do is support those that matter, support your family.”
Violet rose to her feet. “And who supported me, Mother? When my husband was hurting me?” Her chest expanded with anger.
“Not even my own father would stand up for me when faced with threats from the Duke of Lavensham. Yes, Father told me your big secret. That David isn’t his child.
So, pardon me if I don’t take advice about what is scandalous from the woman who had an affair with her husband’s best friend. ”
The satisfaction of seeing her mother’s mouth fall open was hollow.
She didn’t wish to judge her any more than she wanted to be judged.
The anger that she had finally let loose hung in the air between them.
But Violet was not sorry about expressing herself.
She had held everything inside for too long.
Her mother recovered quickly. She ran a hand over her coiffure, smoothing imaginary stray hairs.
“I admit that I have made mistakes in my life. But I only want my girls to not end up with the same regrets that I carry.” She rose to her feet.
“Even if you don’t care about the rumors for your family’s sake, think about what your father-in-law will think when he hears them.
He still holds the purse strings to your future. Be smart, my dear.”
Violet stood stock-still as her mother crossed the room, kissed her cheek, and then left.
She clenched her hands into fists at her side.
“I deserve happiness,” she said loudly in the empty room.
“And the duke can go to hell.” She slapped a hand across her mouth.
A slightly crazed giggle escaped, though.
Perhaps Rhys was starting to rub off on her, and really, she wasn’t even sorry about it.