Chapter 25
“Ido not like this,” Violet said, striding from drawing room to dining room, then through to the library. They had taken a carriage to the Ravendel house, seeking Lillian there.
“Do not like what, Violet?” George Ravendel said, rising from his chair facing the fire.
He held a book in one hand, a finger marking his place. A pair of pince-nez rested on the end of his nose. Violet stopped dead in the middle of the room as Alexander met the eyes of the man he knew thought ill of him.
“Well, Your Grace, I did not know we were to be so honored,” George said, putting the book down on his chair.
“Uncle George. Of course, you have met His Grace the Duke of Lorchester.”
George looked at his niece with a quizzical expression. “Indeed I have. I know him in person and by reputation, one might say.”
There was clearly a veiled meaning to that comment and Violet heard Alexander take in a long slow breath. A glance at him saw the tightness in his face that was controlled anger. The smile he wore to cover that emotion was the thinnest of barriers.
“Lillian and I dined with His Grace today and I spent some time with him yesterday,” Violet said, skirting around the question of courtship.
“Have you indeed? I knew nothing of this. It’s a rum do when a girl must keep her guardian in the dark, Your Grace,” George said sternly.
“But hardly my fault, Ravendel,” Alexander said, his tone brittle.
“One would hope that a gentleman would come to me if he wishes to visit with my niece.”
“My aid was requested in the matter of Violet’s parentage,” Alexander said with a smile that bared teeth.
George blanched and Violet felt the blow that had been landed.
But then, Uncle George, why refuse to tell me? Why keep it so secret? You have brought this upon yourself.
She turned to Alexander, smiling briefly and touching his arm, hoping to communicate to him that she wished to handle this situation herself.
“And I have agreed to share my knowledge of English society that His Grace may better…fit into it.”
“All the better to overturn that society, is that not so, Your Grace?” George said.
“To make life better for the poorest in our society and protect them from exploitation,” Alexander replied, his smile vanishing.
“Or to uproot the very foundations of that society. Perhaps things are different in Scotland. But in England, we do not care for revolutionaries,” George said, stabbing a finger toward Alexander.
“You did not seem to think so when I was last in this house,” Alexander said.
“I have been educated since then, sir,” George replied.
Violet wanted to stamp her feet. The two men were almost squaring up to each other.
She was at least grateful that her Uncle was too much of a gentleman to resort to such things.
But Alexander came from a different world, one where insult was met by a fist and only the strongest survived.
She kept her hand on his arm, squeezing slightly and hoping that Uncle George did not notice.
The hope was in vain. George’s dark eyes went to the movement and widened slightly.
He puffed himself up like a bantam rooster.
“Do my eyes deceive me or is there more to your acquaintanceship than you have intimated?”
Alexander looked at Violet. His gaze felt like a caress. It made her shiver, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. She bit her lower lip, remembering the many kisses. Then she composed herself and turned to her Uncle.
“Alexander and I have discovered a mutual attraction. And a mutual fondness.”
“And do you know this man at all!” George snapped.
“I know that he has fought his way to adulthood in the most horrific of conditions. That he is now seeking to repay the good fortune of his birth by helping those who still suffer in the same slavery that he did. That makes him as noble as a knight of Charlemagne as far as I’m concerned.”
George wordlessly exclaimed, throwing up his hands.
“You have not returned to your original question, Ravendel,” Alexander said in a voice tight with control. “Put your prejudice aside and wonder what had your niece so worried.”
“Oh, telling me how to behave in my own house now!” George exclaimed. “Godstone was correct in his assessment of your character, sir.”
“When Lillian left our luncheon, she said she was returning to the Duke’s house, just off the Knight’s Bridge road. She never arrived. And I do not see her anywhere here. Unless she is in her room?” Violet asked, archly.
George smiled, removing his pince-nez and placing them in a pocket of his waistcoat. He casually went to a sideboard and poured himself a brandy from a decanter there.
“No, she is not. But I have no cause for concern. She arrived here having met a gentleman on her way to the home of this gentleman here. That gentleman escorted her to his home and has offered to show her how the government of this great country operates. He occupies a pivotal role in that government, you see?”
Violet was surprised but had her suspicions. Alexander voiced those suspicions.
“That wouldn’t be Godstone, would it? Lord Ambrose Devereaux?”
“Yes, it would. A proper gentleman, you might say,” George stated.
“With the implication being that I am not,” Alexander replied.
“As a matter of fact, there are those that say that very thing,” George said with a pugnacious expression.
Violet was horrified. She had never known her Uncle to be openly rude to anyone.
He was bold in his views and often boisterous in his expression of them, citing the habit as having been formed leading men on the battlefield.
But, now he was walking a fine line between polite difference of opinion and just plain insulting.
Is this the influence of Ambrose? Can he really turn one’s head so completely, make them act so out of character? Perhaps that gentleman is more dangerous than a braggart and a bore. And what does he want with Lillian?
“Well, the mystery is solved. Lillian is quite safe, though I would not choose Godstone as a companion myself,” Alexander replied.
“Indeed,” Violet said faintly. “Though I am surprised at you Uncle George, letting a young woman be unaccompanied in the company of an unmarried man, particularly one so much older than she.”
“Stuff and nonsense, Violet. I trust Ambrose Devereaux with Lillian’s safety like no other.”
That struck Violet as odd. Uncle George had been greatly concerned at the prospect of her spending time in company with Alexander, yet he blithely dismissed the same concerns with Ambrose.
Ambrose is not a Scotsman brought up on the streets of Glasgow. He is an English noble, born to the purple as they say. But, I was not aware that Uncle George knew Ambrose Devereaux in any way other than as passing acquaintances. This level of trust seems misplaced.
“Then I will not trouble your Uncle with my presence in his house any longer,” Alexander said.
He turned on his heel and strode from the room, back stiff with anger.
Violet followed him, casting a concerned look back over her shoulder at her Uncle as she went.
When they were out of the library with the door closed, she picked up her skirts and ran to catch up with Alexander.
She caught him in the hallway and caught his hand.
“I am sorry for my Uncle. Do not judge me by his behavior.”
Alexander lifted her hand to his lips and smiled. “I would not. Ever. But it seems I have lost your Uncle as a potential ally. I doubt he will give his blessing to my marrying you.”
“I do not need his blessing,” Violet said resolutely.
Alexander looked at her askance. “This is a man who has raised you from a babe in arms. You believed him your father for many years. I cannot believe you would not care if he refused to bless your marriage. I would not come between you and your family.”
Violet shook her head firmly. “He did raise me but since then he has deliberately caused me distress by refusing to tell me what he knows of my parentage. I fear I am coming to the end of the road with Uncle George. Now, I should like to find Lillian. Just to be sure.”
Alexander nodded grimly. “I have no reason to believe she is not as safe as can be in the company of Ambrose Devereaux. He’s the worst sassenach I’ve ever come across and I could see him far enough…
” He stopped at a frown of confusion from Violet.
“I mean to say that I would rather cross the street than walk the same pavement as he is on. But, he is a man of honor. He is a peer of this country and a member of the House of Lords.”
Violet nodded. “I cannot help but think that I came across him, seemingly by accident. Then Lillian does. Perhaps it was not an accident?”