“It’s fine,” her cousin assured her.
Violet agreed but then dropped a stitch when the door opened.
She caught his eye as he assisted her aunt to her favorite chair. Violet shouldn’t feel embarrassed to see him—she was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. And yet, her nerves stood on end.
Because he was, in fact, a butler.
He is my cousin’s butler. Proper ladies did not, under any circumstances, cavort with the help. This was impossible!
Should she look at him? If she did, would her expression give her feelings away?
And how long should she look at him?
“Thank you, young man. I can’t imagine where I left that blasted cane again.” Even her aunt was bowled over by him.
Violet gritted her teeth and focused all her attention on her knitting.
Because he was more than just a butler now. He was a person with siblings, a person who’d lost his parents at a young age. He had worries, he liked to fish… And he hadn’t mocked her secret fascination with fortune-telling.
He’d made her feel tremendously special that afternoon—pretty—and uniquely feminine. Did he naturally have that effect on every woman?
“Posy is complaining of a megrim,” her aunt informed them. “But I’ve told her she’s coming anyway. She promises to be down in ten minutes. Megrim, my eye!”
Had Posy hoped to remain home alone with Mr. Cockfield tonight?
He would not take advantage of Posy. Would he?
Most definitely not. He’d told her he had sisters to watch out for. Surely that prohibited him from taking advantage of a girl as young and naïve as her niece?
“She told me as much, and I told her the same,” Violet answered.
She needed Posy to have a successful Season. She needed Posy to have all the things she never would.
“That girl is going to be the death of me. Perhaps we could hire an etiquette instructor. It’s possible that I’ve missed teaching her something vital...”
“She’ll be fine,” Greystone offered.
“I hope you’re right.” But Violet wasn’t feeling as confident.
Mr. Cockfield, who’d been moving around the room gathering glasses, sent her a meaningful look.
One that Violet couldn’t quite read.
“I’ll talk with her,” Greystone said, although without much conviction.
“That one is going to require a strong man to take her in hand.” At least Aunt Iris realized the seriousness of Posy’s situation.
If Violet couldn’t launch Posy properly, what good was she, really? Raising her sister’s child had been her only responsibility for nearly a decade. She ought not to focus on her own sudden… urges, and instead focus on keeping Posy in check.
“I disagree,” Mr. Cockfield broke in, capturing all of their attention. “She needs taken by the hand, not in hand—someone to protect her but also allow her to blossom into the woman within.”
The words weren’t so much shocking as was the fact that a butler would contradict a dowager countess.
“You certainly are opinionated for a butler,” was all her aunt said.
“Merely stating the facts, my lady.” But his gaze had landed on Violet again, leaving her confused as he slipped out of the room.
“If he weren’t so efficient and easy on the eye, I’d advise you to sack him and hire a biddable butler, Greystone,” Aunt Iris said.
