‘I haven’t, in fact; if anyone showed a disposition to be interested in me, I always became so chilly in my manner towards them that eventually, they gave up and moved on to easier targets.’
‘I can well imagine it. Buttargets? You do know that it’s perfectly possible a man might be interested you for yourself?’
‘That would be a novel experience.’ Viola uttered these words as flatly as she could manage. It wasn’t quite true – there had been a man once, or so she had thought… But that could not signify now, and she had no intention of telling her sister about that, or even thinking about it too loudly in her presence, after keeping the dangerous secret for so long.
Mrs Da Costa absorbed her words. ‘Oh – I suppose it would be, at that. I’m sorry, my dear Vee. I can see how that would sting. But you were content enough with Edward, weren’t you, at least once the boys were born, after that first difficult time? You always seemed to be. I don’t mean because he was a duke and all that nonsense, but because he was kind and gentle, and so grateful.’
There were faint scuffling noises outside the door already, but both women ignored them. No small Da Costas appeared to be breaking anything irreplaceable or injuring themselves or others just yet.
‘He was all that. I don’t mean to sound bitter, just honest. And this man doesn’t want me for myself either, but for the same reason Edward wanted me – to have a child, and quickly.’
‘He tells you so? That’s… unusually frank.’
Viola pulled the letter from her reticule and handed it over. It was looking a little creased and tired by now – she must have read it dozens of times, looking for hidden meanings and not finding any, or rather finding different ones each time. Sabrina now scanned the missive rapidly as her sister looked at her with affection, noting the bloom of health in her soft cheeks. They saw little of each other these days, but the bond remained strong. They’d fought a lot as children, being so close in age, and they did not have the sort of easy, undemanding companionship she shared with Emily Naismith, but Sabrina could always be depended on to tell her the truth, even if it wasn’t palatable. Perhaps especially if it wasn’t, oldest sister that she was. That was what she needed now.
Sabrina’s eyes too grew rounder as she read on, but her reaction was very different from Miss Naismith’s. She was laughing by the time she came to the end. ‘You are a dreadful person, Vee,’ she said at last. ‘You must have shown this to Emily, and yet you did not make sure that I was there to see her face. Was she terribly, terribly shocked?’
Viola grinned reluctantly. ‘She asked me if Lord Ventris was mad. Not only does she think I cannot possibly accept his offer, she is strongly of the opinion that such a letter does not deserve a reply of any kind, least of all a civil one. I do love her so – she was like an angry kitten prepared to take on a very large dog.’
‘I can easily picture it. And have you replied? I presume you have not said no outright, or you would not be here.’
‘I wrote only to say that I would be in London soon and would give him his answer then. He said he would by good fortune be here too – that was all he said – and that he looked forward to seeing me.’
‘I don’t think I have ever met him,’ Sabrina said pensively. ‘He wasn’t at your wedding, was he? I know, of course, that he and Edward were cousins. But I can tell even from this letter that they were nothing alike in character.’
‘No. He is… you can see what he is. Cynical, clever, amusing. Careless, but not as careless as he would have you think. And of course he has the reputation of being a rake.’
‘And more than that.’
Viola was both relieved and disturbed that her sister had heard the rumours too. It seemed everybody had. ‘A criminal – a thief, perhaps, and worse. I don’t even want to put it into words, the most outrageous part of it.’
Sabrina’s good-natured face was troubled. ‘There’s no way of knowing if it’s true, of course. It’s so wild and unlikely, it easily might not be. You know how people love to gossip, and make something out of nothing.’
‘Exactly. But even if he told me to my face that he was not what people say he is, how could I believe him? Surely such a person must be practised at deception. I can imagine him saying to me, smiling, that if I do not trust him, there would be no form of persuasion he could use to convince me that he was innocent.’
‘So youdon’ttrust him – you have it in your mind to believe the gossip, or at least some of it? In which case, it seems to me that you should not take him. We’re not young girls who must marry for the sake of our family – not any more. You have complete freedom to choose now, and an independent life that you have valued, I think. I obviously would have chosen Laurence anyway, and still would, but that’s not the point. We’re not talking about me.’
‘It’s more complicated than that, Bree. It’s not about what I want, or only partly. Of course there are disadvantages – there must be to any marriage outside of a fairy tale. I’m sure even Laurence has his flaws. But I do trust Ventris to have a care for the boys, and I ask myself if any of the rest of it matters much. I don’t know if that’s crazy or sensible.’
Sabrina didn’t seem to want to discuss Laurence’s flaws just now. ‘You think he’s telling the truth there, at least? That he could care for them as if they were his own?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do. And there is no one else in the world I could say that about.’
‘There’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help you, but there’s no point in you asking for my advice or even my opinion if you haven’t told me everything. You know that.’
Viola was silent for a moment, then she said slowly, ‘I’ve always been scared of his brother. Mr Armstrong. You know he was Edward’s heir, and Edward had been without a son for so long that Tarquin must surely have assumed that the dukedom was all but his, if he could only be patient. And then the boys were born.’
‘No doubt his nose was put badly out of joint and he was furious. But to be frightened he might… I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.’
‘I know that he was uttering threats of violence towards Edward and me long after he should have reconciled himself to our marriage; I was told as much years ago, by someone who heard him in his cups. And Edward knew too, because he warned me against him. Almost the last words he said to me were, “Have a care he does not come near the twins. Promise me you will. He would do anything, I believe he would do anything…” Not the kind of words I am likely to forget, Bree. I have stayed away from London, for the most part, because he is usually here during the Season. And the boys have been safe at Winterflood, with people always looking out for them even though they did not know it, but now they are at school and out in the world. Vulnerable.’
‘But is there anything more? Because you seem to be implying that this man, a family member, might be capable of murder – of killing two innocent young boys just because they stand in his way.’ Sabrina, normally so unperturbable, was looking at her sister with very grave concern. Something solid – perhaps a youthful limb, or solid Da Costa head – thumped suddenly against the locked door, making them both jump, but they ignored it, continuing to gaze intently at each other.
‘I know it sounds ridiculous. Hysterical. But I cannot afford to underestimate him, in case it is true.’
‘I wonder you thought to send them away to school, if you are so worried for their safety. Could you not have kept them at home and engaged a tutor now that Emily has left you?’
This was a sore point. ‘God knows I wanted to. But you know that Lord Marchett, Edward’s oldest friend, is their trustee and guardian, and he would not be persuaded. They are of an age, he insisted. The more I tried to say that they should stay at home and be tutored, as many boys of rank still are, the more he thought I was a pathetic, clinging mother who could not bear to have them out of my sight. There was a great deal of talk of apron strings, and building manly character. He smiled at me and patted my hand in the most odious way. I have always known he disliked me, and thought Edward wrong to marry me. I had to concede the point, or else I would have lost my temper, and along with it, any influence at all I might have over him in anything. He was good enough to tell me,’ Viola said through gritted teeth, ‘that if I remarried and my husband should share my opinion on their education, he might concede. But he seriously doubted that any sensible man could possibly think anything so weak and foolish.’
