“He has renewed his offer for you?” Aunt Iris demanded.
“Do you still love him?” Posy asked.
“It is him, then.” Greystone looked concerned.
But Violet’s gaze drifted to Simon, who looked very serious as he stared at the floor. Perhaps if she gave them all some sort of answer, they’d leave her alone.
“He is not an imposter, he has renewed his offer, and as to the other, that isn’t the sort of thing a lady discusses in public.”
“But we are not in public; this is Greystone’s foyer,” Posy pointed out.
Aunt Iris scowled at their niece. “This isn’t a proper discussion for you. And if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late for our appointment.”
“Madam Chantal will wait.” Posy waved a hand.
“Madam Chantal waits for no one.” Aunt Iris donned her gloves. “Besides, Diana is meeting us there.”
Her aunt sent Violet a look that somehow conveyed that the reprieve was only a temporary one. Violet appreciated it nonetheless. Now that her meeting with Christopher was over, she felt as though a giant weight had lifted off her shoulders, but she was also tired. She wasn’t all that surprised, when she went to smooth the skirt of her gown, to realize that her hands were shaking.
Christopher was alive. She’d seen him. And she didn’t love him anymore.
But she loved Simon—who had not met her eyes once since she’d emerged from the drawing room.
“Take your time, Violet. We’ll support you regardless of what you decide.” Greystone said and then turned to Simon. “You wanted a word?” He gestured toward his study. “No time like the present.”
Seconds later, Violet found herself standing alone in the foyer. She glanced around and then, confident he wouldn’t mind, slipped into Simon’s tiny office to await him.
As she closed the door behind her, she found some of the comfort she needed. Because the scent reminded her of him—spicy and leathery and… familiar.
Desiring more of it, she lowered herself into his seat behind the desk. A place where he spent many, many hours.
It felt rather intimate, really.
She glanced down at an envelope that had been opened, addressed to… Blackheart?
“He’s a con man.” Followed by a muffled thumping sound.
Violet jumped. That had been Simon’s voice, and it had come from…
A vent near the floor.
My Choice
“He’s a con man.” Simon slammed his fist onto Greystone’s enormous mahogany desk.
That blighter had asked Violet to renew their engagement—and Violet had not dismissed him.
She had not said no.
Was she seriously considering accepting him? Simon would not have believed she valued status above affection. She wouldn’t. She had told Simon that she loved him.
But this morning, Captain Thompson had offered her the position of Marchioness, and someday, a duchess. She knew Simon only as a butler.
A butler, for God’s sake!
Which, of course, was something any rational lady of the ton ought to take into consideration.
But Simon didn’t like it.
