Chapter 4
“Your Grace, I flatter myself that I know the names, if not the faces, of many of the highest-ranking men and women in our country,” Violet said. “But, I do not recall ever meeting you. Are you perhaps new to London? Or perhaps with estates in Scotland?”
The assembled guests were seated around the long dining table, George at its head and Violet opposite him.
Lillian sat to her left and Alexander to her right.
The other guests were arrayed between. Violet had taken pains to seat her guests to ensure a good mix of conversation, ensuring that all had someone close by whom they either knew or, based on what Violet knew of them, had something in common with.
It was her hope that this deliberate planning would lead to an enjoyment of the occasion by all, without realizing that it had been so artfully arranged for them.
“I have lived in England since the death of my father, five years ago,” Alexander said. “My estates are in Hampshire but I was living in Scotland prior to ascending to the Dukedom.”
“Oh, well that explains it!” Violet said brightly, smiling. “Did you live in Edinburgh by any chance?”
“No,” Alexander said. “Glasgow.”
Violet did not let her confusion show on her face.
Her knowledge of British geography was far from perfect but she knew enough to know that Edinburgh was the cultural capital of Scotland, home to an ancient city, a magnificent castle, and a royal palace.
Glasgow was more of a working city, like Liverpool.
Merchants, traders, industry, and ships.
It had never struck her as the kind of place where the son of a Duke would make his home.
“Glasgow, really? I must profess my ignorance. I know more about Paris or Rome than I do such a close and important British city. Tell me about it.”
She focused her attention on Alexander. Since arriving, he had been curiously reticent to be drawn into conversation other than pleasantries.
He did not converse much with those around him or with his hosts.
There was an aloofness about him that Violet found challenging.
But she could not get over his remarkable appearance.
He was handsome, but could have passed for a highwayman with his wild hair and beard.
Perhaps this is how Scottish men look? But the Viscount Holmesley is Scottish too and he is not much like the Duke.
“Glasgow is known for its river, the Clyde. For its ships and shipbuilding and its heavy industry. Steel, smelting and the like,” Lillian said. “Is that not so, Your Grace?”
“If you mean is it the kind of place to make you bauk when you breathe in too deeply. Then aye, it is that,” Alexander replied.
Violet frowned, not recognizing the word but puzzling out the meaning. “It sounds like the worse parts of our own docklands here in London,” she remarked.
“My lady, Glesga is black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat most of the time. The lums…pardon me…the chimneys make the air black and stain the very stones of the buildings. It makes London look like a gairden paradise.”
Violet fought to follow his broad dialect which changed the sound of certain vowels. It fascinated her, this man did not sound like any Duke she had ever met.
“So, how did you come to be living in such an awful place? Your pardon but you make it sound awful.”
“I didnae choose it, my lady. It was chosen for me,” Alexander said.
That did not make it clearer. Violet nodded as though she understood, trying to imagine a father sending his son away to a far-off city, and a hellish one at that, if Alexander’s account were to be taken at face value.
“I see. That is a shame.”
“I should like to see it one day. It is one of our commercial hubs after all. Like London, Bristol, and Liverpool,” Lillian said.
Alexander gave a brief nod. “Aye, it is at that. I am not too educated on that subject, I’m afraid. The role of Duke is new to me.”
“You are most welcome to our company. And I’m sure I speak for everyone here in what is known as the Ton,” Violet enthused. “I often wish for a new viewpoint in conversation. A new face.”
“Aye, my viewpoint is certainly unique. As I’ve been finding out,” Alexander said drily. “I thank you for the kind words, Lady Violet.”
He smiled at her and the expression transformed his face. The dark brooding, almost haunted, expression that seemed his natural demeanor, melted away and his eyes came alive. Once again, Violet found herself smiling quite unconsciously, the expression drawn out of her in response to his.
“Actually, my reason for accepting the invitation extended by my good friend and countryman, the Viscount Holmesley, was to ask for your aid, Lady Violet,” Alexander said.
They had been drinking tea and dining on cucumber sandwiches.
Violet had nibbled hers delicately, occasionally sipping her black, unsweetened tea.
Alexander had taken a large amount of food and begun to eat but then stopped himself.
His eyes occasionally went to his plate as though he wished to begin eating again.
Violet wondered what had bothered him, if he found the food not to his taste perhaps.
She put the thought aside as she focused on his words.
“I should be happy to help in any way that I can,” she said.
“I am working on a Bill with some allies within the House of Commons. It is facing stiff opposition from the Tories in the House of Lords,” Alexander explained. “My role is to champion the Bill and ensure it is approved by the Lords so that the Commons may enact it.”
Violet nodded, failing to see how she could help in such an enterprise but wanting to be polite.
“The problem I have is that as a Scotsman, only relatively recently come to England, I feel like a foreigner. And I am seen as such by my peers. It hurts the cause of the Bill because I do not know the etiquette and customs expected of me.”
Alexander was speaking in a rush and looking about himself several times. Seated next to him was the Viscount Quarterman, his wife next to him, and the Baroness Hopper opposite. They were involved in a conversation involving the Holmesleys and were turned away from the Duke, Violet, and Lillian.
He is uncomfortable with the idea of being overheard. Perhaps, embarrassed that he must ask for such help. After all, he is confessing an ignorance of things everyone in this room learned with their mother’s milk. It would be like confessing to being illiterate.
“Violet is just the woman to speak to in that case, Your Grace,” Lillian enthused. “She is an acknowledged expert on etiquette and customs. Why, she is often consulted by those who have been summoned to Court, to ensure they do not disgrace themselves in front of the King.”
Her voice was loud, earning a curious glance from Quarterman, a tall, thin man with bushy eyebrows and a face that appeared to have been chiseled into existence. His eyes met those of Alexander, and the Duke scowled until he turned away.
“I see the problem,” Violet said quietly.
“I just cannae stand everyone knowing my business,” Alexander said in a low, fierce voice.
“Then perhaps we three should convene at the library when our other guests have gone. Then we can talk in private and I can help in any way I can,” Violet suggested.
Again, the contagious smile. It was boyish and bright, tearing away the gruff outward display to reveal the innocence beneath.
“Aye, lass…I mean…” Alexander growled under his breath. “I mean…yes, Lady Violet. That would be perfect. Thank you.”
The rest of the luncheon passed by quickly. As the company moved to the drawing room for coffee and conversation, the Duke excused himself to examine the paintings hung in the Long Hall outside. George took Violet aside as the other guests took seats and made themselves comfortable.
“My good friend, Edward, the Viscount Quarterman has given me some rather disturbing news,” George said with a deep frown.
“Oh? Whatever is it?” Violet said.
“That you have offered the Duke of Lorchester a private meeting?”
“With Lillian in company. So we will not be unchaperoned. It is perfectly acceptable for a man to be in company with two women, I can assure you.”
“That is not my concern. My concern is a public perception that you are close to…that man,” George said with passion. “He is a notorious rake and drunkard!”
Violet’s eyes widened. “Then why did the Viscount Holmesley bring him here?” she asked.
“I do not know but I am not happy about it. Perhaps because they are countrymen. They are friends by all accounts. But Lorchester has been seen in the lowest of establishments in Cheapside, Whitechapel, and Mile End. He is a gambler and a rogue of the worst order!”