“Violet, do you think there is a lock in existence that could keep me from you?”He bent and captured her lips in a desperate kiss.
Ginny came barging into the room from the sitting room where she had been sleeping on the couch, brandishing a candlestick.Then she dropped her arm from where she had been ready to bean the skull of anyone attempting to harm her mistress.“Mr.Seaton, finally.”
“Ginny.”Rhys sent her a charming smile.“Can you please pack Violet’s trunks?We are leaving.”
“Thank the Lord,” Ginny muttered.
“I have the carriage with Jim and George outside.I needed to come in and locate you first.But they will come up and collect the luggage.Let me go get them.”He bent and gave her a swift, hard kiss.“Get dressed.I will be right back.”Then he was gone, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Violet put her fingertips to her lips, savoring the taste of him that lingered.He came for her.Tears of relief welled, but she blew out a breath.Now was not the time to go watery.She needed to get dressed.
By the time Rhys returned with Jim and George in tow, she and Ginny were dressed and ready.Rhys crossed to her, grabbed up her hands, and brought them to his lips.“Are you sure you are unharmed?”
Violet nodded.“But before we go, there is something I must tell you.”She glanced over at where Ginny was bossing around the two men in low tones as she frantically tried to finish packing Violet’s wardrobe.“Actually, it is something I need to show you.Will you come with me?”
Rhys frowned.“Is it important?”
“Tremendously so.”She turned to her maid.“Ginny, we will meet you three outside by the carriage.”Then she led Rhys out to the hallway and down the main stairs.
They padded silently through the house.At one point, Rhys pulled her into the shadows behind a large statue as a footman walked by before disappearing down the stairs to the kitchens.Violet quickly led Rhys across to the east tower.As they climbed the stairs in the dark, she began her story in a whisper.“Yesterday, I met a woman who has been a longtime servant at the manse.Her daughter is the current housekeeper.She is a sweet elderly lady who became confused when she met me.She called me Lady Lilly, mistaking me for a former mistress of this house.One who also had blonde hair and was with child.”Violet took in a breath and tried to keep her tale pared down to the most important parts.“The woman’s name is Mrs.Seaton.”
Rhys stopped and stared down at her.“Mrs.Seaton?”
Violet nodded and gave his hand a tug to continue up the stairs.“This morning, I could not stop thinking about it when I was at church.After the duke left for home, I stayed and had the opportunity to look at the church register.”
“Did you now?”Rhys’s voice was wry.
They had reached the door to Lady Lilly’s room.She took both of Rhys’s hands in hers.“The duke was married to a Lillian Kelley in the fall of 1800.Mrs.Seaton told me that she was a sweet girl, ever so nice to the staff.But she became a victim of her husband’s abuse, and she asked for help to flee, to protect the babe she carried.Mrs.Seaton and her husband aided her escape.Mr.Seaton took her in the middle of the night to the next town.She boarded the coach in the morning and disappeared.”
Violet opened the door.When they entered, she still gripped Rhys’s hand.He was silent as she led him over to the portrait on the mantel, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window.
*
Stunned, Rhys staredat a pair of familiar blue eyes looking back at him from the painting.“Why is there a portrait of my mother here?”
Violet squeezed his hand but remained silent while he processed all that she had just told him—Lillian Kelley, married to the Duke of Lavensham, disappeared into the night, carrying her precious cargo.Taking the name of the couple who had so generously saved her, she had disappeared.He took a step forward.She looked so young, so vibrant.He couldn’t fathom how she’d ended up married to the likes of Lavensham.No, it couldn’t be true.Because then it changed everything he knew about himself.
Violet tugged his hand again, and he followed her across the room.This time, she picked up a taper that sat on the desk.“Do you have flint?”
Of course he had flint.He dug into his pocket, pulled out his flint box, and lit her candle.She held it up to shine light on the framed pictures on the wall.
There she was again, in an advert for the Fortune’s Herald Theatre.Lillian Kelley, London’s renowned soprano.Come listen to the angelic melodies of Fortune’s very own Blue Angel!The drawing of the angel on the swing made his breath catch in his throat.He reached out and traced a finger down the glass.
“My mother loved to swing.When I was young, before we moved to London, we lived in a house she’d rented on the Hampshire coast.I remember there was a swing hung from the big old oak in the yard, and she would swing with me in her lap.”
Fuzzy memories surfaced of him resting against her breast as she leaned them backward.“Look up, baby.See the sky through the leaves.It’s like flying, don’t you think?”Then he would feel her laughter rumble as she pumped her legs to push them higher.He hadn’t thought about that swing in twenty years.
“That’s such a sweet recollection,” Violet said.
Rhys shook his head.He couldn’t think about this now.He gripped Violet’s hand.“Let’s go.”
“But don’t you want to talk about this?”
“No.”Right now, he only wanted to get Violet out of this house and safe.He pulled her to the door.But at the threshold, he stopped.Dropping her hand, he spun around and stalked over to the mantel.The hell if he was leaving this behind.He plucked the small portrait off its perch and tucked it underneath his arm.Then he returned to Violet, and they made their way back to the main part of the house.
Everything seemed quiet still as they walked across the grand foyer toward the front door.“The carriage is out front,” he said.
But as he set his hand on the door handle, a voice rang out.“Just where the hell do you think you are going?”
