“Hungry, Violet?” He turned to his companion, ignoring the server’s suggestive smile.
“I—” She blinked and then swallowed hard as though searching for her composure. Was that because he’d addressed her by her given name, or because she was feeling overwhelmed? “I am, actually.”
“They have an excellent pot pie here. Unless you prefer something else?”
“Oh, no, that sounds perfect.”
After the barmaid moved to another table, Simon lifted his drink in a casual toast. “To second chances.”
“For the ale.” Violet laughed, lifting hers, and then took a sip. Simon held off drinking his in favor of watching her reaction to the bitter beverage. She made a face but then took a second drink.
“The more of it you have, the more you like it,” Simon commented. Rather like you.
She gave him a shaky smile. “Do you bring all your lady friends here, Mr. Cockfield, or just me?”
Simon held her gaze and then drawled, “Do you flirt with all the manservants at Knight Hall, or just the butler?”
She winced. “Just the butler… I mean, I don’t… I don’t flirt with other manservants. I—"
“I’m only joking, Violet.”
She gave him an admonishing look but then grinned. “You do that rather a lot. Are you ever serious?” But then she seemed to remember the night before and dropped her gaze to her drink.
“It’s important not to be serious all the time,” he filled in so she wouldn’t feel the need to bring up the night before. “What do you do for fun, way up there in Yorkshire?”
He felt an odd sort of fascination for this woman and wondered if spending an afternoon in her company would put an end to it.
“Aside from church, social gatherings are few and far between near Blossom Court, so nothing exciting, really.”
“You attend church?”
“Occasionally—not as much as I used to.” She sipped from her ale and then licked the foam off her lips. “Aunt Iris stopped going a few years ago, and Posy’s not all that keen. I won’t force her. Our local vicar has a tendency to shout.” She made a face. “I’ve always felt closer to God in the quiet, when I’m alone.”
Simon nodded. She was spiritual, but not a zealot.
“What else do you do?”
“When I’m not helping my aunt’s housekeeper, or doing lessons with Posy, I head up the local ladies’ charity for orphans. And I knit, and sometimes paint. I practice my music.”
“Isn’t Lady Posy a little old for lessons?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, we do them together. I don’t believe there’s an age where we should stop learning. Currently, we’re making our way through some of Shakespeare’s plays—Macbeth—which was Posy’s choice but we’re both finding too depressing.” She made a face and swiped a lock of hair behind her ear. “At Greystone’s suggestion, we’re also reading up on a few recent physics theories. But most of the equations are beyond my abilities.”
“I respect that about him—his thirst for knowledge,” he admitted.
“It is rather commendable…” She tilted her head with a laugh. “I’ll admit I didn’t foresee discussing the universe and God this afternoon…” She laughed.
“Serious subjects for a pub,” Simon agreed, leaning toward her. “What else do you like to do? In between… let’s see: studying literature, astronomy, knitting, painting, and playing the pianoforte, not to mention caring for your aunt and niece?”
“And the orphans,” she reminded him with a grin.
“And the orphans.”
Simon learned that although this woman was more than capable of navigating the ton, Violet Faraday far preferred the country. And she freely admitted to being happier wandering the meadows near her aunt’s estate than she’d ever been in a ballroom.
“And I enjoy taking Posy to the fairs that come through.” She entertained him with stories of various fortune tellers she’d paid to see at those fairs, laughing but also defending the possibilities of fate and premonitions. “You must think me gullible. But it’s nice to imagine there is more to the world than what we see.”
“Not gullible,” Simon said. “I think you are… charming.” And sitting with her, drinking and eating and just… talking, that magnetic pull he’d experienced with her before became even more compelling.
