Chapter 4
Violet awoke the next morning feeling determined.
Today would be the day she would connect with Noah.
Today, she would find him and spend time with him, talk with him, and get to know him.
He must be completely overwhelmed at the addition of two new people to his house.
He would need someone to help him get used to his new circumstances, and goodness knew the Duke of Alderwick was not going to be that person.
She hadn’t seen the duke, as a matter of fact, since the solicitor had left yesterday afternoon.
But there had been hints of his presence around the house.
Thankfully, the staff had taken her things up to the main bedroom when she had asked them to, which meant there hadn't been any unpleasant arguing over who would take that room. She’d half expected him to put up a fuss, to insist that since the house was his, the main room ought to be his too.
She had braced for that argument, but it had never come.
Now, waking up in the room he seemed content to leave her to occupy, she felt a brief flash of gratitude toward him.
No. Suppress that.
He still wasn’t making things easy. There was the matter of dinner, to begin with.
She had assumed that the three of them—she, Noah, and the duke—would meet at the dinner table and be forced to speak to one another, but neither of the others had appeared.
When she had asked Williams where Noah might be, he had murmured to her that the young master often asked to be served in his bedchamber and that the staff had gotten into the habit of obliging him.
“But we can tell him that’s to come to a stop now, if it’s what you prefer,” he had added.
“No,” Violet had said firmly. “That isn’t fair to him at all.
He’s gotten used to a pattern, a way of living, and I’m not going to change that on him now.
He has enough change to deal with. I’ll hope for him to join me soon, when he’s adjusted to my presence in the house.
When he’s ready. But what of the duke? He has no established patterns of behavior in this house. Why hasn’t he come to the table?”
Williams looked uncomfortable. “The truth is, His Grace asked what time you intended to take your dinner, and asked us to serve him an hour earlier,” he said.
“So…that means he isn’t planning on dining with me.”
“I should think he isn’t, since he’s eaten already.
” There was sympathy in Williams’ voice, which Violet did not like.
She didn’t relish the thought of being pitied.
She did, however, feel a surge of anger at the duke, and—if she could admit it—a bit of pity for herself.
He had really gone that far out of his way to avoid having to eat a meal with her? Did he hate her that much?
Well, and what of it if he does? It isn’t as if I like him either. I ought to be thanking him for removing himself from my company!
Still, the thought of his absence at the table had stayed with her all night, and this morning, it still lingered. It was like living with a ghost, she thought, to share her house with someone whom she didn’t see, but whose presence haunted everything she did.
He wouldn’t be at breakfast today, that was for certain.
He would have found some way to avoid her.
But perhaps she would be lucky enough to catch Noah there.
She dressed quickly and hurried from her room, and much to her pleasure, found that he was sitting at the table with a piece of toast in his hand.
As she came into the room, he looked up, dropped his toast, and jumped to his feet as though ready to run right out and leave her there.
Fortunately, Violet had been ready for that.
“No, no,” she said, trying to put some authority into her voice.
“Sit down, Noah. Finish your breakfast. You won’t be able to avoid me forever, so we might as well get it over with and get to know one another a little bit.
That wouldn’t be so terrible, would it?”
He lowered himself slowly back down into his seat, his eyes narrowed, and said nothing. He picked up his toast and resumed eating, his eyes not leaving her face.
Violet sat down. This was the first good look she had gotten at the boy.
His hair was a shock of blond, reminding her of wheat in a field.
He was at an age whenchildren enuinely too thin.
There were hollows below his cheekbones that made her think perhaps it was the latter.enuinely too thin.
There were hollows below his cheekbones that made her think perhaps it was the latter.
“It’s good to get to know you, Noah,” she said. “I know you weren’t looking forward to my coming to live here, but I really hope that you and I can become friends. Do you think that’s possible?”
He shook his head slowly, chewing his toast.
“You don’t think so?”
He swallowed. “I don’t need any friends,” he said. “I certainly don’t need you.”
“No,” she agreed. “I’m sure you don’t. But maybe we’d like one another, if we gave each other a chance. Would you be willing to try? You might find that I’m someone you enjoy. You won’t know unless you give me the opportunity to get to know you—unless you get to know me.”
He bit his lip. “You’re going to try to throw me out of the house,” he said darkly.
“Noah—why would you say that? I’m not going to throw you out. Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, if you don’t, he will. Can you promise he won’t?”
“Yes, I can,” she told him. “I looked at the paperwork his solicitor brought. He isn’t allowed to throw you out. This house is yours just as much as it is anybody else’s. My Aunt Margaret made sure of that.”
At the sound of the name, Noah flinched and looked away from Violet as if he had been struck.
Violet’s heart ached as a realization came to her. The boy had truly loved Aunt Margaret. This hadn’t just been an arrangement because he had needed a place to stay. He hadn’t been this surly, sullen creature before Aunt Margaret had died. He had been happy. He had liked living with her.
He isn’t just upset to have me in his house. He’s upset because he lost someone very dear to him.
Her heart went out to the boy. She wanted to tell him that she had loved Margaret too, that they shared this grief. But would he be able to hear it? Would he understand?”
“Noah,” she tried. “I know that you’re very sad to have lost her. You two were close. I can see that. I can tell.”
Noah scowled at his plate and said nothing.
“You know, she was my aunt,” Violet told him. “She and I were close to one another too. I miss her too, just as you do.”
Noah looked up with fire in his eyes. “No you don’t,” he snapped.
“If you loved her, you would have come and visited us. You would have been here before now. Why am I meeting you for the first time right now if you loved Madam Margaret so much? Why wouldn’t I already know you?
You’re not here because you cared for her and you miss her.
That’s a lie. You’re here because you want her house.
You want to take what you can from her now that she’s gone.
Well, I’m the one she loved, not you, so you can stop trying to be my friend and you can stop trying to steal things that shouldn’t be yours. ”
Her heart ached. “Noah…”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I know I can’t do anything to make you leave, because I’m too young, and not even that duke could make you go.
And you couldn’t make him go either.” He smirked.
“That’s pretty funny, the two of you fighting.
” Then the smile fell from his face. “But even if I have to put up with you in my house, I don’t have to like it.
You can’t make me like it. And you can’t make me believe that you cared about Madam Margaret either. ”
He threw down his toast and got up from the table in an angry huff.
Violet didn’t try to stop him. If he was determined to go, she thought, he ought to be allowed to go. She wasn’t going to get anywhere by trying to force his hand, as much as she wished she could. She sat quietly at the table as he stormed from the room.
Williams appeared behind her. “Shall I go after him, Lady Violet?” he murmured.
“Do you think he’s in any danger?”
“He usually spends the morning in the library, and that’s the direction he went, so no. I suspect he’ll be in there looking at the dowager viscountess’s books. She always encouraged him to spend time with them, and I think it’s the way he feels close to her now that she’s gone.”
Violet nodded. “In that case, let’s leave him in peace,” she said softly. “I could tell that conversation unnerved him. Someday, I’d like him to trust me, but I just don’t think we’re anywhere near that happening yet.”
“You’re making an effort with him,” Williams commended her. “It means a lot to me to see you do it. As you can imagine, I’ve come to care for the child.”
“And I’m glad you do,” Violet told him. “I truly appreciate the fact that so many people seem to care about him. I hope he’s able to see that too, one day.”
She finished her breakfast and got to her feet, thinking that she would spend the rest of the day exploring the estate, since she hadn’t had the opportunity to do that yesterday.
If Noah wasn’t going to want her company, as it seemed he was not, then it made sense for her to take this time to get her bearings.
She made her way out to the garden, which she hadn’t gotten to see yesterday. The roses were in bloom. She walked to a bench and sat down. The stone was cool through her skirts, and the wind dusted her cheeks.
Violet closed her eyes.
This was her home.
This was the home that had belonged to her Aunt Margaret, and Aunt Margaret had intended that it should be hers.
Violet would not let go of that. She wouldn’t allow herself to be put out of countenance by Noah.
He was clearly suffering, and he needed someone with him.
She was sure that her aunt had intended to bring the two of them together, sure that Aunt Margaret would have wanted her to take responsibility for Noah now.
I won’t let you down, Aunt Margaret. And I won’t let him down either. I will be the guardian he needs. I will find a way to convince him to let me in.
And as for the duke…well, he wasn’t going to ruin things either.
She couldn’t reason through the sequence of events that could have led that man to believe this house was meant to be his—it had to be a misunderstanding of some kind.
Aunt Margaret would never have sold her home to the duke when it was meant to go to Violet.
The paperwork was there, but there was an error somewhere.
Until I figure out what the problem is, I will stand my ground. I won’t let that man chase me out of this house—the home Aunt Margaret intended me to have.