“I remember that day too.”She had thought about it so many times over the last year.His handsome face, his kindness to little Robert when he showed him the magic trick, pulling a coin from behind the boy’s ear.And the twinkle in his eye as she said she wanted to be next.He’d pulled a ring from behind her ear with a wry smile.Of course, only the best for an earl’s daughter.Violet rubbed her finger over the thin band of gold on her thumb, turning it around and around.“You did the magic trick.”
“I confess it’s the only one I know.”
Violet laughed.“I don’t know that it’s your only trick.How did you get in here?How did you even know which room was mine?”
His shoulders rose and fell.“There is a large tree right outside your window.And, well…” He let out a small cough.“I paid the footman, the one you were with yesterday, to tell me which room was yours.”
Her eyes widened.Well, that solved that.Goodness, money really was the way to gain information, wasn’t it?Not that she should be surprised.“How much did you pay him?”
“Two quid.Now, no more questions.You’ve exhausted me.Go to sleep.”
That was an entire month’s salary for Jim, so she didn’t blame him.She yawned.Maybe she was sleepy, after all.She snuggled into her pillow.“Will you sing me a song?”
There was a long silence.
“I knew I would regret telling you.”
Violet smiled.
Then, to her utter surprise, Rhys began to sing.He hadn’t lied; his voice was low and melodic.The song he sang was a sea shanty about a sailor saved from a stormy sea by a buxom mermaid.The sailor fell in love with the mystical sea creature, but when he next woke, he found himself alone on the sandy shore.The song was slow and sad, but the timbre of Rhys’s tenor rolled over her like warm air on a summer day.She closed her eyes and let the melody lull her to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
“Hello, dog.”Rhysgreeted the mastiff as he entered the house.
The big dog lifted his head from the floor, where he lay in front of the kitchen hearth, and gave a snuffle of greeting.
“Did Louisa feed you, boy?Sorry I couldn’t let you come with me tonight.You are too much of a wild card to bring to Hartwick’s house.”Rhys passed the dog and exited the kitchen into the hallway.He dumped his hat and gloves on the front table and climbed the stairs with his shadow at his heels.His room was in the right back corner of the house, overlooking the garden.Easy access out through the big French doors to a Juliet balcony and down the drainpipe if the need arose.He walked across the dark room and pushed open one of the doors.Cold air rushed in, and he breathed deeply.
When he’d first arrived in Violet’s room, she was sleeping, lying in the moonlight, looking like a fairy princess, with her golden hair splayed out on the white sheets.His gut feeling that her husband’s early return would pose a danger to her had been validated by the dark bruise on her cheek and the equally dark circles under her eyes.As he’d watched her sleep, the need to protect, to kill for her, had solidified in his chest.
He shook his head and closed the glass door, turning the lock.Stopping at the nightstand, he began emptying his pockets.His dagger clattered on the wooden top.Next, his leather coin purse, then his roll of lockpicking tools.He stowed his vial of sleeping powder and another smaller knife he kept in his boot in the drawer.And finally, he pulled out an assortment of items he had collected today on his travels through the city—a marble, two gold hairpins, a smooth rock in an unusual black color, a few matchsticks, and the gold pinky ring he’d taken from bloody Sam Wright as punishment for saying he’d fixed Mrs.Beasley’s back door when Rhys knew that the man had never shown up.
He sighed, stripped down, and washed quickly with freezing cold water from the porcelain washbasin.Then he got into bed and settled under the thick blankets.The dog settled on the floor at the foot of the bed with a sigh of his own.Having the dog, with its excellent hearing and loud warning bark, gave him some extra reassurance.Folding his hands under his head, he stared up at the ceiling and contemplated his problem with Violet.
She had quickly gotten under his skin.Fucking hell, he had sung for her tonight.He already found himself breaking his own rules about allowing himself to want her.And he did want her.He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and abscond into the night with her.To take her somewhere safe.To take her to bed and cherish her body the way she deserved to be cherished.To erase the memory of every mark she had endured.Rhys closed his eyes.God, after all these years of being careful, of being celibate, he had turned out just like his mother after all.Falling for someone totally inappropriate.Someone miles out of his league.Just like she had.Fool.It would only lead to madness and obsession.
No, dammit, he could control his emotions.He had been doing it successfully his whole adult life.He would put his feelings for Violet into a safe compartment in his mind and lock them away.He would find out what the Duke of Lavensham was up to and free Violet from her horrible husband.Then he could be free of his worry for her.She would be safe, and he could walk away with his heart safe as well.
*
He watched Violetmove slowly along the row of stalls at the Covent Garden market.Her burly footman, Jim, followed along behind her.She hadn’t left the house for four days, and he’d begun to worry that he would need to go inside again to check on her.But being in her bedroom, talking with her in the dark, had been too intimate.Too dangerous for him.
Instead, he had trailed her husband.The man had spent two nights in a goddamn brothel.Perhaps he was going to do as he said and take a mistress instead of bothering with his pregnant wife.The idea of him coming home and spreading some pox to Violet made Rhys clench his teeth in anger.But he had spoken to the woman who had entertained Sommerset, and she had laughingly said it was easy money because the man had been too drunk to even get hard.He had passed out suckling on her tit both nights.What a bloody waste of a human being Sommerset was.
Violet stopped at a booth selling clocks.She ran her fingers lightly over a small mantel clock with a mother-of-pearl face.On the top of the clock, two mermaids, cast in silver, emerged from a spray of seawater, their heads flung back and their long hair streaming down their backs.A smile teased at Violet’s lips.
He lengthened his stride and stepped up next to her.“How are you feeling today, Lady Sommerset?”
Violet whirled to face him.“Mr.Seaton!”Her smile solidified, and its bright sunshine hit him in the center of his chest like an anvil to his heart.He took an involuntary step back.
“I’m feeling fine this morning.I think my morning sickness has finally passed.It has been three days of blessed relief.I am keeping my fingers crossed.”
“Good.”
“What are you doing here at the market this morning, Mr.Seaton?”
“Watching you.”
