“I could release you from the debt altogether,” Greystone said without acknowledging any of the arrivals.
“You’ve got to be joking,” Spencer protested.
“Not at all. His reasons are not inconsequential. Quite significant ones, in fact. And as he’s unwilling to fulfill the forfeit, I don’t see any other way out of it.” Greys set his jaw. “Bit of a conundrum.”
“So, I understand.” Chaswick sent Simon a knowing look. “Miss Faraday is at Byrd House presently.”
“What the devil is she doing there?” Simon’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t even realized she’d left the house. Why had she left without telling anyone?
“Is she alright?” Blast and damn, was she really considering Thompson? Simon stood abruptly. “What all do you know?”
“I know a few things. But first, I’m interested in hearing where you stand in the matter.”
“Where I stand?” Simon grimaced, remembering the conversation he’d overheard between Violet and Thompson earlier. “Does that even matter if she accepts Thompson’s offer?”
“Why would you think she’d take him back?”
“Because she didn’t refuse him.”
“She isn’t interested in him.” Chaswick smiled, looking rather like the cat who’d caught the canary. “Miss Faraday is concerned with only one gentleman this afternoon, and she is thoroughly convinced he’s a butler.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. “But she didn’t refuse him—Thompson.”
“That’s because she isn’t even considering him.”
Simon froze upon hearing this. He was an idiot!
Violet had promised to trust him. So why would he presume that she would suddenly be interested in a title?
“Let’s have a new wager—dispense of this altogether,” Greystone suggested again.
At this point, Simon was willing to give Greystone whatever he wanted—Heart Place, if necessary.
“But that would ruin all of the side bets. We can’t have that.” This from Westerley, who’d been quiet up until then. “Because, speaking for myself, failing to honor a wager, even one such as this, would plague me for life. I doubt you’d feel differently, Blackheart. It’s the one thing that is truly ours.”
“True,” Spencer said, frowning. “And a wager is a wager.”
“But love is love. You do love her, don’t you, Blackheart?” Chaswick pinned his gaze on Simon. “Because if you do, I think I know how we can satisfy all involved.”
“I’ll do anything,” Simon admitted. “Because I do, I love her with all my heart.”
Exposed
“We have been instructed to have you at the statue of Achilles at precisely six this evening,” Bethany announced. “If you wish to hear Mr. Cockfield out, that is.”
Violet glanced at the clock on the mantel. Already, it was half-past four.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been this.
Why a public place?
“He wants to see me?” She dropped her gaze to her gown, which was wrinkled and might have a spot of tea on it. And then she touched her hair and face. “I’m all splotchy!” Once the tears had begun, despite the other ladies’ attempts to keep her cheerful, they’d returned on and off for most of the afternoon.
Bethany studied her with a frown. “Nothing a little lavender water can’t repair. And one of Diana’s gowns should fit you nicely. Don’t you think, Diana?”
“Absolutely. I have a juniper evening dress that would suit your coloring perfectly.” Violet’s future cousin-in-law rose. “But we haven’t much time.”
As it turned out, Violet depleted every last minute preparing for the meeting—what with a hasty bath being drawn, some hair styling, and a hint of paints insisted upon by Tabetha.
