Violet nodded. “Just once. And…” She dropped her gaze to stare at her hands clutching her reticule. “I’ve always wondered if…”
“If?”
“If there was more to it.”
Bethany didn’t respond right away, making Violet feel more idiotic than she had before, but then the other woman said, “There is more.”
This time, it was Violet who stared across the water. “Thank you. That’s far more than my mother ever told me.” Even Adelaide hadn’t shared that sort of information with Violet. Aunt Iris had certainly never broached the subject.
“Mothers, I’ve learned, are horribly stingy when it comes to these sorts of things.” And then the baroness folded her hands primly in her lap.
Violet vowed she’d have a proper discussion with Posy when the time came. She was going to have to find a book, or perhaps she ought to consult with a midwife.
“I suppose I ought to return now if I’m not to be late for the garden party.” Bethany touched Violet’s arm. “You are still coming tonight?” She was hosting a cozy dinner party to celebrate her sister’s engagement.
“Of course,” Violet assured her. “And… thank you.”
“Think nothing of it. And, Violet, whatever you decide, it will be the right thing.” She gathered her reticule and umbrella. “It will be right because it is what you choose. Never risk going after something that you really want.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated. But I’d better get back to Byrd House soon or they’ll leave without me.”
“Go!” Violet waved her friend away, laughing. Of course, they wouldn’t leave without her. Not only was Bethany the lady of the household, but she was a baroness.
Violet couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the benefit of such a friend, someone she could trust with her confidences. Most women she knew at home were either married with children keeping them busy or considerably older than her.
Her mind filled with more questions than when she’d set out earlier, she located Gwen and returned to Knight Hall just as her aunt, Posy, and Greystone were climbing into the carriage parked out front.
She’d not realized how long she’d been gone.
“Wherever have you been all morning?” Aunt Iris, wearing a hat that was sure to rival the duchess’s garden itself, turned from the carriage to greet Violet with a frown.
“We were concerned,” Greys added but without sounding disapproving as their aunt had.
“I went for a walk and met up with Lady Chaswick. After the two of us began chatting, I forgot all about the time. Go on without me.”
“I can have Coachman John return for you,” her cousin offered. “Or we could wait.”
“No,” Violet said. “I believe I’ll stay home. I’ve… a megrim.”
Which wasn’t at all true and had her wondering who this person was that she’d become. She didn’t remember ever lying to her parents when Christopher courted her.
But Greys and Aunt Iris weren’t her parents, and there was no possibility that Mr. Cockfield’s intentions could even begin to be honorable.
Hers certainly weren’t.
“Get some rest then, Violet, so that you’re bright and cheerful for Lady Chaswick’s dinner this evening,” her aunt advised.
“I will.” And remembering herself, Violet turned to Posy. “Do try to find favor with one of the young gentlemen in attendance today. Wouldn’t you be thrilled to be rowed around the lake?”
“Only if they’ll allow me to do the rowing.”
Aunt Iris tutted while Greys assisted them into the carriage. “Have Mr. Cockfield call the doctor if you aren’t feeling well, Violet. You have looked a tad flushed these days.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m perfectly fine.” She stood on the walk and waved. As soon as the carriage disappeared around the corner, she turned to her maid, who had remained standing on the walk beside her. And then Violet touched her bottom lip, having made her decision.
“I’ll need a bath and my new gown steamed. I have an appointment at two o’clock.”
