By the time Emory had returned to Liam’s home, it was past dinner, and his brother had been called away. He’d not returned before Emory had gone to bed.

  “Yes, well, I may have been too hasty in my decision to hide away in your home,” Emory chuckled, then went on to explain his first encounter with Lady Violet and how they’d spent the day. While he and Lady Violet agreed to keep the secret behind their courtship from their families, Emory had no concern in telling his brother, as Liam would not gossip to the residents in Laswell, nor would he tell their mother and father the truth.

  “You intend to court her?” Liam asked in surprise.

  “Yes.”

  Liam set his fork onto his plate, leaned back, and studied Emory, who was beginning to become self-conscious and wondered if there was something wrong with his appearance.

  “Is this because of father and your perceived need to marry and beget an heir quickly.”

  “If I intended to marry the first woman of rank and privilege who was available, I would still be at Forester Hall attempting to charm Lady Lucinda.”

  “True.” Liam frowned.

  Did he not approve of Lady Violet? “What is your objection? Clearly you have one.”

  “I’ve nothing against Lady Violet, I assure you. I just can’t fathom that you’d wish to spend time in her company. For one, I doubt that she’d hang on your every word as if your syllables dripped with gold, nor would she laugh at your poor attempt at humor.”

  Emory nearly groaned. His brother was correct. Those on the marriage mart simply saw him as a wealthy lord and heir to an earldom, and his attempt at humor did lack wit. Then again, he hadn’t really attempted to impress anyone since they’d used little effort to know him. Whereas Lady Violet didn’t seem to care who he was and anticipated an end to their courtship.

  In fact, the lack of flirtation on her part or his was refreshing.

  “She is nothing like anyone I’ve met previously,” Emory grinned. “Perhaps she charmed me.”

  “Lady Violet does not charm.” Liam snorted.

  “No, she doesn’t.” Emory laughed. “Which may be the very reason why I am charmed.”

  “Fascinating.” His brother finally relaxed and lifted his cup of coffee. “I’m eager to see what develops between the two of you.”

  “I’m certain it will be nothing more than a courtship for only the length and duration we’ve agreed upon. It’s all rather liberating to tell you the truth.” Emory liked being with her and this was simply an unusual experience that offered an opportunity with no expectations.

  “How are your patients?” Emory turned the conversation.

  “There are no new illnesses,” Liam answered.

  “That is good, is it not?”

  “Yes, in that it hasn’t appeared in any other household. However, it could be at least another sennight before symptoms appear and the reason the servants will need to remain quarantined. Only time will give us the answers that I’m hoping for.”

  “Which is?” Emory asked.

  “That the lot of them suffered through the illness as a child and simply don’t remember. That would be the best outcome and bring the potential outbreak to an end.” He leveled his eyes on Emory. “As you’ve never encountered the measles, do take care.”

  “I have no intention of becoming ill,” Emory assured his brother.

  “Were you aware that Lady Violet lost her mother and sister to the disease when she was just a child?”

  Emory’s earlier good humor slipped with this news. “No. I did not.” He knew the pain of losing a family member. One was to death, the other was a different manner entirely, which he’d rather not dwell on for the moment, though it was a constant companion in the back of his mind.

  Violet had her walking dresses laid out on the bed and considered each. She had a much larger collection at home, but Bess had only packed what she deemed necessary for a ten-day visit in Silvia’s home. Were any of these appropriate to walk with Lord Ferrard when he called on her?

  She’d paid little attention to her wardrobe in the past and now wished she’d listened closer to the modiste. Each spring she and Lucinda were fitted for various outings in London, from picnics, walks in Hyde Park, balls, the theatre, and every situation in which they might find themselves. She’d been measured, but it was her grandmother who had chosen the fabrics and decided the cut and purpose of each gown. Then, it was her maid who chose the dress for each entertainment. Violet knew that she should have more knowledge about her clothing and have concern for her appearance, but truthfully, she valued comfort over fashion, which had never been an issue in Laswell, where she was known. Now, she didn’t know what to wear for the stroll scheduled for today.

  “You wished to see me, Lady Violet,” Bess asked as she entered the chamber.

  “Which dress should I wear this afternoon?”

  Bess frowned. “I hadn’t realized you intended to leave.”

  “Lord Ferrard and I are going to walk,” Violet answered absently while studying the gowns.

  “You are?” Bess asked in surprise.

  “Yes, he’s courting me.” Violet reached for the beige gown. “Will this do?”

  “Goodness no.” Bess took the dress from Violet and set it aside. “Much too dull for courtship.” She then lifted the lavender dress and velvet spencer. “I doubt you’ll need your pelisse today as the sun is bright and the weather mild.”

  Violet did appreciate living along the coast because even in December the weather wasn’t unpleasant. At least not so cold that one would not wish to be out of doors.

  “When are you to meet Lord Ferrard?”

  “In an hour,” Violet answered.

  “An hour,” Bess practically cried. “We’ve hardly any time.”

  “I can assure you that it won’t take me long to dress, as you well know. You’ve been my maid for six years.”

  “When meeting a gentleman, your entire appearance must be set to rights, which means we need to do something with your hair.”

  Violet frowned and stepped before the mirror. Her hair was still in a long braid so that it didn’t tangle when she slept. All she need do was brush it out then affix a chignon at the nape of her neck and all would be well. After all, she’d be wearing a bonnet so there was no need to make a fuss.

  Before she could point such out, however, Bess rushed toward the door, threw it open and called down to Maggie. When the other maid appeared, Bess began giving instructions for the gown to be pressed as she set about heating the hair irons that had miraculously appeared from somewhere and pushed Violet into a chair. Other maids arrived and began fussing about her belongings to find the proper stockings, make certain there were no scuffs on her half-boots, and choose a bonnet. “Had you given me any warning we would have seen you properly prepared,” Bess tsked.

  “We are simply going for a stroll,” Violet reminded her. “Not attending a ball or being presented at court.” She knew from experience that preparations for those events took hours. A lot of fuss so that one was presented in a manner in which Society would approve. Violet had often abhorred the inactivity of time of being seated before a mirror while Bess had pinned and curled her hair.

  “It’s courting and nearly as important,” Bess insisted. “Though this is the first I’ve heard of such courtship,” she scolded. “Does His Grace know?”

  At the question, each maid within the chamber stopped what they were doing and turned their attention on Violet. This was no surprise as their servants were often interested in the private lives of Violet’s family. Therefore, Violet offered an abbreviated version of the events, omitting the part where Lord Ferrard had feigned an interest in Violet to save Lucinda the pain of his rejection. Nor did she tell them that the courtship was scheduled to end on January sixth because one of them would report such to Grandmother.

  “It’s fortunate that you decided to visit someone in Laswell, or you might have missed the opportunity.” Bess was grinning as if she were excited about this turn of events.

  There was little to be excited about, but then again, Bess didn’t realize that a deadline had been set for the courtship to end.

  However, if Violet was truly honest with herself, which she always strived to be, she was looking forward to spending time with Lord Ferrard this afternoon. Not only was he handsome and intelligent, but he thought her unique and didn’t condescend, and she’d quite enjoyed their conversations yesterday afternoon.

  “His Grace must be so pleased. Two daughters might be betrothed before Twelfth Night.”

  “There’ll be no betrothal. At least not for me,” Violet insisted.

  “You’d not allow him to court you unless it was a possibility.”

  “I’m certain that I won’t know Lord Ferrard well enough in such a short time to make a decision,” Violet stated.

  “Perhaps, but you might be surprised and fall in love.” Her maid was grinning again. It was as if Bess couldn’t wait to see her married away.

  Then, in a blink of an eye, her maid’s eyes widened as the smile slipped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Who is going to accompanying you? I cannot leave the inn, as you know, nor can any of your father’s servants chaperone as they’ve duties at Forester Hall.”

  “We are simply to walk about Laswell.” Violet did not need a chaperone. She’d not had one yesterday when she and Lord Ferrard drove about the area. “Anyone who lives in the village and is out and about will see us, all proper. Besides, they know that I’m above reproach.”

  “Yes, you are correct, but it still isn’t proper.”

  “I promise that my reputation will not be harmed.” Violet glanced at the clock. “Goodness, why does time seem to move quickly when one is busy? It’s a conundrum, as time is time and moves at the same speed regardless of activity.”

  Bess quickly finished her hair then helped her into the freshly ironed gown. Thankfully, she was still on schedule when she stepped from the inn to find Lord Ferrard approaching from the direction of his brother’s home.

  He was certainly pleasing to look upon, and Violet felt herself warm as he drew near just as her stomach gave a flip.

  This was most definitely attraction. It might not be the heart palpitations or pulse racing her friends had described, but there was no denying that something certainly changed within her being when Lord Ferrard was near.

  Perhaps there was a slight increase in her pulse.

  Strange that hadn’t occurred yesterday.

  Her palms had also seemed to grow damp within her gloves.

  Oddly, none of these symptoms were nearly as unpleasant as she’d once assumed. In fact, there was a level of anticipation and excitement which she had never experienced.

  However, Violet reminded herself that Lord Ferrard was a rake and there was no reason to believe that he might wish to continue their association beyond the agreed-upon time. Therefore, while she might enjoy the anticipation and excitement, she’d not be so foolish as to develop tender feelings for the rogue. She was far too sensible.

  Chapter 7

  Emory nearly stopped at the sight of Lady Violet so that he could first admire her from afar. Though her head was covered in a lavender bonnet, the golden curls draped over her shoulder gleamed in the sunlight. Yesterday she’d been lovely but had been clothed in a drab, greyish ensemble and her hair had been knotted at the nape of her neck. In comparison to today, she’d resembled more of a strict governess who didn’t believe in fun. Today, however, in lavender, she was striking. Especially with the way the bonnet framed her delicate face and the bow tightened at a jaunty angle beneath her chin.

  Something stirred within him, and if Emory wasn’t mistaken, the anticipation he’d experienced this morning had now turned into excitement that he’d be able to spend the afternoon in her company.

  Lady Violet was refreshing, and he wanted to learn if she was also so serious minded, if she laughed, and what her concerns, hopes and interests were.

  Bloody hell, was he smitten?

  The question nearly stopped him again. He’d never had such thoughts about a woman.

  “Lord Ferrard, we are so happy to have found you.”

  He turned to see who had called out to him only to find two of the Tilson sisters bearing down on him.

  “Lady Joanna. Lady Esther,” he greeted them.

  “Her Grace sent us to arrange an introduction to Lady Violet.”

  He should have anticipated Lady Violet’s grandmother would meddle after he’d proclaimed his interest.

  “I’ve already had the opportunity,” he answered pleasantly as he turned and gestured to Lady Violet who still waited for him.

  Lady Joanna clapped her gloved hands together. “Lovely.”

  “I made her acquaintance yesterday, and this afternoon we are going to take a stroll, so you can assure Her Grace that all is as it should be.”

  Lady Esther frowned. “Where is her maid?”

  “She cannot join me today as she must remain within the inn,” Lady Violet answered as she approached. “Good afternoon Lady Joanna and Lady Esther. I hadn’t realized you were visiting Forester Hall.”

  “Your grandmother sought our assistance to chaperone Lady Lucinda and her bachelors, but after Lord Ferrard expressed an interest in you, she didn’t want to leave anything to chance,” Lady Joanna explained. “However, Her Grace would not be pleased that the two of you are going about in public without a chaperone.”

  “I fear we have little choice,” Lady Violet answered.

  “Then it is good that we’ve come along. We shall chaperone today then set a schedule for me or one of my sisters to always be in your company,” Lady Esther insisted. “It wouldn’t do to have your reputation called into question.”

  Emory nearly groaned, as the last thing he wanted was anyone listening as he came to know Lady Violet. It was uncomfortable, and now he must watch what they said for fear of it being repeated. A maid could be counted on to be discrete. The same could not be said for the Tilson sisters.

  “That is very kind of you, but not necessary,” Lady Violet insisted. “I cannot imagine anyone thinking ill of me for simply walking with a gentleman.”

  “That is because you see life differently than others, Lady Violet,” Lady Esther acknowledged. “What you deem as innocent and proper, others will look for fault, and then gossip.”

  In that, Lady Esther was correct, Emory had to grudgingly admit.

  “I know you’ve not minded before, and have little care, but Her Grace would not be happy if any more gossip surrounded her granddaughter,” Lady Joanna added.

  More gossip? Had Lady Violet’s reputation been called into question previously? If so, Emory had not heard of it.

  “People need to cease questioning my visits to gardens and tend to their own affairs,” Lady Violet argued.

  “Yes, they should,” Lady Esther acknowledged. “However, they won’t, as you and I are both aware. As you are the daughter of a duke, many eyes are upon you.”

  “As I don’t wish for my grandmother to be distressed, I will enjoy your company while Lord Ferrard and I walk.”

  “Oh, you won’t be enjoying our company,” Lady Joanna giggled. “You’ll be enjoying Lord Ferrard’s while my sister and I walk farther behind, so as not to be intrusive, as good chaperones should.”

  The fact that they were there and within earshot was intrusive enough, and Emory knew that he’d need to keep any conversation meant only for Lady Violet’s ears low.

  “One question,” Lady Esther said as she looked to the building they were before. “Why are you at the inn when you are to be staying with the Harleys?”

  “My servants are within,” Lady Violet answered.

  She hadn’t lied, nor had she told the full truth.

  Lady Joanna smiled. “Your grandmother will be pleased that you are looking after them, and we will advise her of such.”

  “We all know our duty and as I am in Laswell, it falls to me to see to their care.”

  Pragmatic and far from selfish. Emory appreciated those qualities. How many ladies did he know who would react in the opposite manner and be irritated that they were without a maid or two? Of course, he also knew the true reason as to why Lady Violet had taken a room at the inn, which was for selfish purposes.

  “Well, move along you two.” Lady Joanna waved them away. “This isn’t a courtship if the four of us stand on the walk and gossip all afternoon.”

  “We weren’t gossiping,” Lady Violet answered.

  Lady Joanna laughed. “I forget how literal you are sometimes dear.”

  “Why yes. It can be confusing when one says one thing but means another, especially when interpreted incorrectly.”

  Another layer revealed, and something he’d need to keep in mind.

  While Violet usually enjoyed the company of the Tilson sisters, her grandmother’s dearest friends, today was not one of those times. Now she’d need to carefully guard her words, when it was something that she’d rarely needed concern herself with outside of London.

  “Shall we, Lady Violet?”

  Lord Ferrard offered his arm and Violet slipped her hand into the crook as they turned and walked away from the maiden sisters.

  “What is your favorite part of Laswell?” he asked.

  Violet took a moment to give some consideration to the question, as it wasn’t something that she’d given much thought to previously. This was her home and she’d lived here her entire life. The streets and lanes were as familiar as the corridors and passages of Forester Hall. “I’m not certain I have a favorite area, Lord Ferrard,” she finally admitted.

  “Perhaps you should give me a guided tour and when we are finished, maybe I will have a favorite place.”

  “I believe you may have already discovered it though I can only assume,” she answered.

  “I have?”

  “Yes, depending on where your chamber is within your brother’s home,” she clarified. “I’ve imagined what view he must have of the sea when glancing out above the tops of the trees.” The home was perfectly situated at the crest of the hill for an unobscured view of the bay.