Millie still bristled with anger.“No, there must be some way to stop him.Tell Papa.He can make him stop.He can challenge him to a duel.Men can do that.”
Violet chuckled despite herself.“I don’t think a duel is a good idea.What if Stuart killed Papa?”
“I could get rid of him for you,” Millie offered.“I have been learning about poisons in my horticulture book.”
Before Violet could reply to the bloodthirsty Millie, the door opened, and her parents came into the room.Violet hurried to straighten her sleeves and snatched the fichu back from her sister’s grip.But it was for naught because Millie immediately piped up.“Papa, look at the bruises on Violet.Sommerset is hurting her.You’ll stop him, won’t you?”
Violet’s father froze mid-stride.His thick brows lowered as he looked from Millie to Violet.Then he strode across the dark-pink carpet until he stood in front of Violet.His gaze traveled over her face and then down to where the bruises on her collarbone were visible without the fichu in place.His expression darkened.“Where else?”
Violet’s hand shook as she pushed her sleeves up to reveal the bruises that wrapped her wrists where Stuart had painfully gripped them together behind her back.
“Girls, out.Leave us alone with your sister,” her father barked.
“But Papa—” Millie said.
“Out now.”
Jane gave Violet’s arm a small squeeze, then rose and gripped Millie’s hand to drag her across the room.Liza followed them.“What’s happening?”she asked in a bemused voice.
When the door shut, her father turned to her mother.“Did you know about this?”
Violet’s mother sat down next to her.“Yes, dear.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”His voice cracked with emotion.
“I didn’t want to upset you.There is nothing to be done.She’s married to the man.”Her mother’s voice was calm, logical.
But her father’s expression was like a thundercloud.He looked at his wife in disgust.The two of them hadn’t agreed on a single thing in years.Violet held up her hands to stave off the inevitable argument.“Before you fly off the handle, I came here to tell you both the good news.I am with child.”
“Finally.”Her mother let out a long breath.“That is good news.”
Her father paced back and forth in front of them; his shoulders lifted almost up to his ears.Then he abruptly stopped.His hand sliced through the air.“All the more reason to put a stop to this right now.Come, we will go speak with Lavensham today.He needs to control his son.”
Violet blinked up at her father’s outstretched hand.“Today?”
“Today.”Her father nodded.
Could it be this simple?Would Stuart’s father be able to make him stop?She would be happy just to be able to state her case for going to live at one of the other estates.Certainly, now that she was pregnant, she could live separately from her husband.A small flicker of hope sparked to life as she slid her hand into her father’s warm palm.
He pulled her to her feet and gently wrapped her in his arms.“I can’t believe I gave you to that terrible boy.I should have known he was rotten,” he muttered into her hair.
Violet allowed herself to lean against her father.She was so tired—tired of lying to everyone that she was alright, tired of walking on eggshells all the time so as not to agitate her volatile husband, tired both in her body and her soul.
Her father stepped back.“I will go write a note telling him we will be calling this afternoon.”He gave a swift kiss on her forehead and strode out of the room.
Violet sat down beside her mother.She grimaced.“I’m sorry I threw up in your urn.”
Her mother’s eyes widened as she glanced over at said urn.Then she stood and crossed to pull the bell.When she sat back down, she patted Violet’s hand.“I was sick with every one of you.It will pass after the first few months.”She picked up Violet’s teacup and pressed it into her hands.“Drink even if you don’t feel like it.You must keep your strength up.You have another life growing inside you.”
Violet did as her mother instructed and took a dutiful sip.The sweetened tea chased away the awful taste of vomit.Her mother’s expression was pensive, as though she was biting her tongue.“What is it that you want to say?”
Her mother snorted delicately.“Your father has never stood up to any of his cronies, least of all the Duke of Lavensham.”
“You don’t think the duke will talk to Stuart?Make him stop?”
Her mother’s lips thinned, and the look in her eyes was brittle.She shook her head.“The apple does not fall far from the tree.”But then her mother smiled and took one of Violet’s hands in hers.“Dear, it is like I said before.Be good, don’t give your husband any reason to be angry with you.Surely now that you are with child, a possible heir, he will treat you like a queen.Try to stay out of his way.”
A knock at the door was followed by a maid entering the room.“What can I do for you, my lady?”
