Her head ached and she was dizzy, but she did not wish to make a fuss. Amara was at her side now, too, shaking her head.
‘We should not have come here—I knew it. The Creightons have little taste and even less sense. We should leave straight away.’
With a ringing in her ears and a feeling of nausea rising, Violet did just as they both wanted her to and turned for the door.
The French Comte had disappeared and she thought that he would just have to take his chances even with a recent bullet wound to the side. Only a few weeks had passed since his being almost dead and she imagined that he might have had the sense to lie low and recover. The beautiful woman he had been attached to was nowhere to be seen, either, so perhaps they had both left together? That realisation was surprisingly hurtful and she quickly shook it away.
Violet awoke in her room just as the clock outside in the hallway struck three. The Comte de Beaumont sat on the chair beside the bed, watching her. Surprisingly, she felt in no danger at all.
‘I am sorry for what happened tonight.’
Violet held up her hand as though to stop any apology.
‘How did you get in?’
‘Your locks are very flimsy. It would be safer to have them changed.’
Ignoring that, she sat up further. The evening before had been like a small window into the life of a man for whom violence was a common theme and she could scarcely believe that he was here. ‘Who are you?’
‘Aurelian de la Tomber. My friends call me Lian.’
‘And am I that? A friend?’
‘You tried to help me a few hours ago. Why?’
‘Help you?’ She was stalling for time and he knew it.
‘By calling out. By warning me. By involving yourself in something you should not have.’
‘Because you are dangerous?’
‘Completely.’ One word ground out slowly. One word that didn’t seem quite so English now. ‘And you got wounded because of it.’
His tone seemed more grave than the small bruise on her skull should have elicited and she smiled. ‘I am sure that I shall live. The doctor said it was a tiny injury.’
‘Perhaps so this time, but why is no one here with you? Watching you? It cannot be safe to be alone after a knock to the head...’
She stopped him by asking another question.
‘What did those men want with you?’
Shrugging, he leaned forward. ‘The world of London society is a rarefied one, Lady Addington. All pomp and circumstance, but often lies, as well. A public debacle is probably one way of discrediting me or at least starting rumours.’
‘Rumours?’
‘That I am not solid. That demons stalk me. That trust in my motives might be misdirected. Were I now on the other side of such a ruse I might even say it was creditable.’
‘You are not reassuring me on the merits of your true character with such talk. Why would they be trying to discredit you in the first place?’
‘I am a stranger and our countries are at war. Your husband was a viscount from the north, was he not?’
She stayed silent, shocked by such a quick change in subject. Had he been finding out about her?
‘Harland Addington was an upright man, according to many, though there are those who might say otherwise.’
‘Otherwise?’
‘There are whispers, my lady, that are...less flattering.’
