Chapter 2 #2
Violet caught sight of Cecilia in the corner of her eye.
Unsurprisingly, she had an unconcealed grin spread upon her freckled face.
Cece loved nothing more than a good joke, prank, or witticism.
Gently warring siblings were equally entertaining.
She embraced anything that broke down the stifling expectations of what was proper.
Cece was not one for artifice. She spoke plainly and laughed loudly.
Although today, after the chilly reception Violet had given her, Cecilia was more subdued than was usual for her.
Violet’s chagrin toward her best friend began to dissolve.
After all, Victor had apparently not taken her joke about Violet’s feelings seriously.
No real harm done, then, despite her initial mortification.
Besides, if Pearl was going to have him eating out of her hand, Violet reckoned it would be good to have someone by her side who would not take the newly-arrived competition seriously.
Competition. Now why had she chosen that word?
She was not vying for Victor’s attention.
He would give it freely to all. Nevertheless, Violet’s senses were on heightened alert.
Which meant that, for the rest of the evening, all interaction, each gesture, every tiny nuance was noted and evaluated for evidence of a deepening connection between Victor and Pearl.
Her suspicions were aroused still further when the young woman, in a manner that seemed on the surface to be merely conversational, leaned over during the evening’s carol singing around the pianoforte and asked, “Do you mind if I ask an impertinent question?”
Violet very much wanted to say, “Yes, I do mind. We are not well enough reacquainted for you to be in my circle of trust. Even Cece is sitting precariously on the boundary of it. What makes you feel I would like to answer a question you yourself have labeled impertinent?”
Instead, she nodded, her curiosity triumphing over caution.
“While I have been abroad, has there been…?” Pearl looked briefly at the floor.
“How do I put this delicately?” She smiled sweetly as if to disguise the fact that delicacy was required.
“Have you and Victor … grown closer? Closer than friends, I mean. It’s just that I notice he looks often in your direction even when you are not directly involved in the conversation. ”
“He does?” Violet’s amazement was quickly replaced with a joyous thrill that shivered happily down her body right into her toes, the pink digits wiggling with hitherto-unknown delight.
The beginnings of what must be an idiotically happy grin surfaced upon her features, and she fought to get her cheek muscles back under control.
She tried to sound nonchalant. “I mean, does he? I had not noticed.”
“Then the two of you do not have an understanding?”
Violet’s toes grew still. Her mouth tightened. “No.”
“Ah, that is a relief. I can tell you, then, dear Violet, that Victor is every bit as wonderful and handsome as I remember him. And I should be very grateful if he had such an understanding with me.”
“I see.” But Violet did not want to see. She certainly did not want such an image residing in her mind.
It was very perplexing. A few hours ago, she had been happy for her friendship with Victor to resume its normal course, grateful he had not been affected by his cousin’s playful jibe.
Now, it simply was not enough. If Victor was going to shift from friendship to deeper affection, it should be with her.
And yet, what right had she to claim anything?
Moreover, what fault could she find with Pearl?
Her beauty was refined, her manners pleasant.
And she brought an element of novelty through her new experiences.
Why would Victor not be drawn to her? If he were, she reminded herself, a true friend would be happy for them.
The evening grew late. The Blaynes and their guests made their way to the large drawing room where the Yule log lay waiting, nestled now in a bed of hazel twigs, dried pine needles and bark at its middle.
A splinter from last year’s log was produced by Mr. Blayne and lit by a footman before being buried within the nest of tinder.
The smaller twigs quickly caught alight, crackling and snapping as the glow of flames began to shift to the smaller logs around the greater one.
It took several minutes for them to build up enough heat to bite at the bark of the Yule log.
Once the bark was alive with fire, the family grew quiet.
Each heart made a secret wish, one that might come true if the wood still burned in the morning.
Violet’s wish shamed her, for it was selfish, but she whispered it to the ether, nevertheless.
Pearl could make her own request of the universe, and may the best woman win.
Bidding each other goodnight, the party of eight retired to their rooms, the servants likely just as eager to see their own beds after a very long day of unusually numerous tasks.
Williams helped Violet change into her nightgown, brushed her mistress’s hair, and turned down her bed.
The door clicked closed behind her as she took a candle up to the attic, while Violet slipped under the covers and blew out her own candle’s flame.
She lay on her side, tucking her hands under her pillow as she prepared to sleep.
Her fingers touched something cold and damp.
A moment later, Violet uttered a bloodcurdling scream, her bare feet taking her as far from the bed as possible, her heart pounding in her ears, her lips cursing the day she had ever chosen to befriend Miss Cecilia Isaacs.