Chapter Eight
After quickly leaving the observation gallery, Violet went in search of her cousin.
Seeing the man with a patch covering one of his eyes had made her heart skip a beat.
But she wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of his scar or just something of the man himself that gave her such a reaction.
Either way, he’d inexplicably left a first impression on her.
Even now, though her eyes scanned the banquet room for Patience, she couldn’t help but wish for another peek at the man with the patch, up close and on the same level.
She told herself that was ridiculous—she had no idea who he was; surely he was a titled peer and she was merely an apothecarist, here because her cousin had paid the fees.
She shook her head and looked at the buffet in hopes of distracting herself.
Although the food appeared tempting, Violet wasn’t sure she could stomach anything to eat at the moment. Instead, she found herself turning around to stare at the opening to the gallery.
She supposed most women would not be able to overlook the scar running down his face but Violet had never been so superficial as to determine a person’s worth by their appearance.
Since the gentleman had stopped his forward motion into the gambling room below, she was more than aware that she had somehow caught his interest. A slow smile lit her face before she shook herself out of such vain thoughts.
She was hardly anyone of importance and she knew her place in this life.
Still… for one brief moment, she could appreciate the fact that a gentleman had taken notice of her.
A snarky laugh left her. Well… how silly of her…
of course he noticed her as did a lot of the other men below who had briefly glanced up at her.
She had been the only one on the balcony so she had been their main focus of attention.
But he, whoever he was, had lingered there on the floor as a lock of his sandy-colored hair had fallen out of place giving Violet the sudden urge to push the wisps back into place.
Where such a thought had come from, she had no idea, but it was the reason for her quick departure from where she was supposed to be.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon would not be pleased with her for not staying the full appointed hour.
Then again, Violet was here under protest, and the widow would still earn her fee whether she had stayed the full hour, or not.
“We will have a problem, Miss Barnet, if you cannot adhere to the easiest of instructions,” a female voice warned and as Violet turned toward the woman, Mrs. Dove-Lyon stood before her as if conjured up with magic.
“My apologies, Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” Violet whispered in a shaky tone, “I just needed a moment to compose myself.”
“Really? Why, I barely left your side for perhaps twenty minutes,” the lady declared with a light laugh. “Someone caught your interest so soon? Now, this is interesting indeed.”
Widening her eyes in alarm, Violet began to shake her head. “Oh… no… it’s nothing like that,” she said, trying to convince herself that a mere glance at one man could cause her heart to flutter like a schoolgirl’s with a first crush.
“Then you will have no problem returning to the balcony to resume your place for the next half an hour.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon took Violet’s elbow and began ushering her back into the gallery where she once again shooed out the other ladies who had momentarily taken Violet’s place at the railing.
“I really don’t feel like this is necessary, madam,” Violet replied when another glass of champagne was thrust into her hand.
“Tell me who caused you to unexpectedly flee your post,” the widow said instead of addressing Violet’s concern.
Her eyes swept the room below and she gasped in surprise to see the gentleman once again staring back up at her. He gave the briefest of nods before returning his attention to the game of chance he had been observing.
“It was nobody,” she whispered, afraid to voice her thoughts aloud.
The veiled head turned toward her. “Clearly someone has you flustered. I must admit, I haven’t seen this kind of reaction on an initial visit to my establishment for quite some time, if at all. This might be a first and just makes my job far easier than expected.”
“No one has caught my attention,” Violet reiterated, but was she trying to convince herself or the lady standing next to her? If she truly was here to make a match, wouldn’t it be easier to inform Mrs. Dove-Lyon who had her all flustered?
“I see you’re going to make this difficult,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon declared with a clucking of her tongue. “Very well… I will continue on with my original process. Maybe with a bit of luck, you’ll meet your mystery man on one of the many meetings I will set up for you.”
The Black Widow of Whitehall departed with another warning to stay where she was for the remaining time and for once, Violet didn’t voice any objections.
In fact, she had to take a seat in the chair that had been provided for her.
She was still sitting tall enough that not only could she see below but the gentlemen could observe her too.
And as she took a sip of her champagne, she lost her breath staring at the gentleman with sandy-colored hair and an eye patch who continued to glance her way. Who was he?
Once Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s required time to be seen by London’s elite was at an end, Violet couldn’t leave fast enough, after being on display for so long.
She found Patience in the gambling room and asked if they could head home.
Violet had had an adequate amount of what most would consider entertainment for one night.
She was unsure how she would continue to come here so she didn’t disappoint her cousin or lose out on the sum Patience had paid to find her a husband.