Page 28 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“I daresay we will meet eventually as I am out in Society again.”

“Next Season, I suspect. Her family is removing to their estate by the end of this week for the holidays. Her sister-in-law is in poor health.” He looked away then continued. “Lord Downing has postponed the wedding as he fears his daughter-in-law is more gravely ill than first believed. We must wait in hopes of her recovery.”

Violet sighed. Thank God she had made plans to leave Lammas House. She could not stay there any longer with its memories of Tris, knowing him still unmarried yet not free. “I am sorry to hear of her ill health, especially since it will delay your happiness.”

“You know what delays my happiness, Violet.” Spoken so low she could scarcely hear them, his words seized her heart in a strangle hold.

“You must bear it as best you can. As do I.”

He shot her a look, eyes dark and dangerous. “You seem to bear Lord Donningham’s company exceedingly well. Enough to accept his liberties, at least.”

“I did not find them particularly offensive.” How dare he criticize her? “His interest is welcome. Your plan is working well, it seems. You should be happy for me.” Bitterness seeped into her voice but she didn’t care. “I must marry someone, Tris. It if cannot be you, then I do not care who it is.”

His scowl darkened his countenance and deepened the lines in his face. Before he could speak, however, the couple on the dance floor completed their minuet, and she and Tris had to hastily assume the opening position.

Violet tried to think only of the dance, the music, not of the eyes watching her or, God forbid, of the man who danced at her side. Somehow they managed the beginning steps without trouble, although she found it hard to concentrate. She made sure a pleasant, practiced smile graced her lips, the facade of a happy, carefree woman. That in place, she could watch Tris as he circled around her, drink in the sight of his elegant form, dressed in glittering black and gold, as he completed the intricate steps effortlessly, and not give away the agony his closeness created in her. The moment she dreaded, however, was where the minuet called for them to clasp hands. She feared she could not bear his touch without weeping.

As they spiraled in, the mincing steps bringing them closer and closer, she raised her gaze to his face. A mistake she regretted immediately.

His eyes radiated a depth of passion, a hunger she’d never seen on any man’s face before.

It struck her like an arrow piercing her heart, surprising a gasp out of her.

He seized her hand and leaned toward her.

Her mouth went dry as dust.

“I care too much. I plan to ask Lord Downing to release me from my promise.”

Icy prickles cascaded down her back and Violet stopped, unable to move. Shock shot through her body and elated cries rang in her head. “You are mad.”

Gripping her hand, he compelled her to follow him in the circle movement. “Not mad. Heartsick. I cannot live without you, Violet. My heart will break if I cannot marry you.”

They spun out of the circle, unwinding the spiral they had created, drifting apart. Once away from his intoxicating presence, Violet’s mind cleared and the horror of his words crystallized. Society would never forgive such a dishonorable act. No matter how loudly she screamed inside to let him carry out his plan, she knew in her soul she could not allow him to ruin himself, his honor, his reputation for her. Should he jilt Miss Harper, he’d be an outcast in their trenchant society, party to a scandal neither he nor she would ever recover from. Even if he then married Violet, their lives would be spent in seclusion, shunned by all the people they knew. She could not do that to him, to their children, or to Miss Harper. Better to trade their misery for honor than their honor for happiness.

They spiraled in again. He clasped her hand, and once more the rush of heat engulfed her. “I will not marry you, Tris.” The words burned in her throat.

He stopped dead, mouth falling open.

Determinedly, she continued to turn them in a circle, the steps automatic, her mind seared into a blank.

“What?” he hissed. “Why not?”

“I won’t allow you to become an outcast for my sake.”

“It’s as much for my sake as for yours. I love you.”

The words echoed in her ears and she wanted to weep with joy, but there was none.

“I love you too. Too much to be a party to your downfall. You must marry Miss Harper. There is no other way.”

He gripped her hand unmercifully. “Violet.”

Wincing, she shook off his hand, continuing the minuet steps as best she could. Thank God her body remembered what to do, for her mind and heart had gone astray, the agonizing ache of regret pulsing all through her.

The dance ended with them at the far end of the ballroom. They did not take hands again. She doubted Tris could bear her touch and she certainly would not think of touching him. Her resolve hung on a thread ready to snap at the merest contact. Still, one thing remained unfinished between them. “Will you come to the house Christmas Day? We have much to discuss, I think, and I have a present of sorts for you.”

His face might have been chiseled out of flint. “I hardly think that would be wise.”