Chapter 3 #2
Foolish girl! Violet berated herself. How long have you loved him like this and not realized? And you thought he was as a brother to you. How you have lied to yourself!
Then she saw Pearl, and the envy with which she regarded Victor’s smile, broad and beautiful, offered to Violet alone.
“I do ride,” Pearl said, her head tilted demurely, her lashes lowered.
“Perhaps a little more sedately. As with my love for art, I am drawn to gentler pastimes. Perhaps I can offer pleasant conversation in the place of great speed. I remember Cecilia not being a great lover of chasing across the downs either.”
“Me?” Cecilia seemed surprised to be drawn in as a collaborator for Miss Thompson.
“I don’t mind riding, but the horses won’t have me.
I think they sense that I am as wild a creature as they are.
Being prey animals, they are easily frightened.
They probably don’t want someone on their backs who carries frogs in her pockets.
” She grinned at Violet, but the reference was more a bitter reminder than mutual joke, and Violet looked down at her plate instead.
“I can accompany you while my sister and Victor hare across the estate,” Donovan volunteered. “I do not mind a gentle pace.”
“That is very kind of you,” Pearl replied, but her disappointment was poorly concealed.
“Well, then,” said Cecilia, “I suppose that means you will have to watch me fight with my horse’s reins, Bart. Unless you all plan to abandon me.” She looked meaningfully at Violet.
“How are you with a phaeton, Cee?” asked Bartholomew. “There might be less resistance if you and the animals are separated. We could take turns at the reins and still enjoy a ride.”
“As always,” said Mrs. Blayne, smiling benevolently, “you are a pinnacle of practicality, Mr. Thompson. How lucky Victor is to have such a fine array of friends, each with their own excellent qualities.” She gazed across the table. “Don’t you agree?”
She had directed this last question to her husband, who had been dozing off from the heat of the room and the fullness of his belly.
Mrs. Blayne lifted the timbre of her voice and tried again. “I said, Thomas dear, don’t you agree?”
Mr. Blayne’s eyes flew open, and an involuntary snort escaped, followed immediately by an extensive exercise in throat-clearing. “What was that?” he said, smacking his lips as if to get them working again.
“Victor has excellent friends,” his wife repeated.
“Goes without saying,” he answered gruffly. “He’s a fine specimen himself. Attracts the right sort of company. Don’t understand why he hasn’t yet found a wife.”
It was at this point, Violet imagined, that Mrs. Blayne rather regretted having disturbed her husband and was possibly reminded of the wise expression to let sleeping dogs lie.
It was too late, however, and Mr. Blayne proceeded to smile sleepily and affectionately at Violet, such that Pearl’s ears turned quite pink.
The butler, who had endured many years with his employer’s tendency to embarrass his family, albeit unintentionally, now leaned over and whispered in Mr. Blayne’s ear.
The gentleman perked up at once. “Ah, yes. Time for Christmas pudding! And not a moment too soon. I was starting to feel a little peckish again.” He patted his ample belly and nodded at the butler.
“You may have it sent up, Shaw. Chop-chop. There’s a good man. ”
The pudding was indeed sent up, the brandy poured over it and set alight, the rich dessert devoured.
Violet thought she would be waddling rather than walking to her room and felt extremely grateful that there were no further such banquets expected during their stay at Hamptonlea House.
Games, yes. Dancing, yes. And tomorrow, wonderful, wonderful riding.
Just herself and Victor with the wind whipping at her skirts, the ground a blur beneath their horses’ hooves.
Everyone said their goodnights a little sluggishly this time, their beds beckoning them with the added allure of a place to stretch out their well-full figures.
Cecilia fell into step beside Violet. “You’re not still upset about that little frog, are you?” she asked, her tone suggesting that it would be petty if she was.
“I don’t know,” replied Violet. “Is that going to be the last of it?”
Cecilia stopped and turned toward her. “You never used to be so thin-skinned about my harmless games.”
Violet answered sternly. “But they’re not always harmless, are they? And you don’t consider anyone else, as long as you can amuse yourself.”
Cecilia’s coppery brows shot up above wide eyes. “You used to laugh it off. The amusement seemed mutual to me.”
“You crossed a line, though. Did you ask yourself how Victor might take your ‘harmless’ comment about me? Whether he might think there was some truth to it?”
“Oh, pooh! You’ve never given him reason to think that. I never tease about things that could actually be true. That would be hurtful.”
Violet said nothing.
“It could only offend you if it were true and you were afraid that…” Cecilia pulled up short. “Hang on. It’s true? You do have feelings for my cousin? I didn’t know! Why wouldn’t you tell me? We’re best friends!”
“Shh!” said Violet in an urgent whisper. “I don’t need anyone else to know.”
“I should think Victor would like to know. Why haven’t you told him?”
“Oh, come now. That’s not how it is done. Even a rule-breaker like yourself should know that, Cece.”
Cecilia waved a dismissive hand. “Those rules are silly. And Victor is just blind enough not to see it for himself. Besides, Pearl Thompson doesn’t appear to have any difficulty insinuating herself with him. If you don’t tell him how you feel, he is going to end up in her web.”
“That is not a very nice thing to say, Cece. Pearl is a lovely person in her own right. She is merely making sure she is noticed. She is hardly ensnaring Victor.”
“Well, then, you should do the same. If you consider it acceptable behavior for someone as refined as our friend Pearl, then there is no reason you cannot also let him see you in that light. In fact, tomorrow is perfect. Riding is something that you and Victor have always shared in a way none of us have.”
An impish grin lit up her freckled nose and cheeks. “It’s a pity you can’t ride like Lady Godiva. You would certainly have Victor’s undivided attention then!”
“Cecilia Isaacs!” Violet threw her hands upon her hips. “The very idea!” She shook her head and let her hands fall free. “That’s it. I’m off to bed. You are incorrigible.”
“Sleep tight,” replied Cece sweetly. Too sweetly.
Violet turned a suspicious eye upon her friend. “What have you hidden in my bed this time? It was bad enough that I looked the absolute fool last night. You would not want to give Pearl the advantage by embarrassing me two nights in a row, would you?”
Cecilia’s eyes twinkled. “There is nothing in your bed.”
“In my toilette?”’
“Nothing.”
“If you have hidden something that will give me another fright, I swear I will never speak to you again!”
“Good ni-ight,” Cecilia said in a sing-song voice, walking away and waving with her fingers over her shoulder.
Violet stood outside her bedroom door and considered her options. There wasn’t much choice. Her bed was beyond the oaken frame. She could hardly sleep in a chair in the drawing room, although the idea was currently rather tempting. No, there was nothing else for it.
She slowly turned the handle, nearly jumping out of her skin when Williams’ voice spoke right behind her.”
“Ready for bed, miss?”
Violet sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” And she opened the door.