“Oh, no. No, I’m fine.” But this situation was quickly going from awkward to disastrous. Never would she have imagined that she’d have the same inappropriate feelings for a gentleman as Posy did. It made her feel old, and ridiculous, and guilty that she’d acted in her own self-interest.
It was a shame that the only gentleman to catch Posy’s eye was someone so very inappropriate. Violet didn’t expect Posy to land a titled gentleman. Any landowner, or solicitor, or even a merchant would have made for a respectable match.
But never a servant!
Besides that, Mr. Cockfield showed signs of inconsistency, and that was the last thing she wanted for someone she cared for.
He quite simply was not husband material. If even a whisper of gossip came out of her going off with him, Posy stood to be ruined.
Determined to enlist Greystone’s assistance, Violet marched down the stairs and after finding both the drawing room and the morning room empty, located her cousin in his study.
“Ah, there you are, Violet. Are you going to Lady Chaswick’s ‘at home’ this afternoon? Posy’s gone out but ought to be returning shortly.” He was dressed for morning visits himself.
“Are you taking Lady Isabella driving today?” Violet was momentarily distracted. Was he prepared to court the girl in earnest?
“I’m taking one of Chaswick’s sisters driving—Miss Diana Jones.” Greystone cleared his throat. “As a favor.”
Violet raised her brows but decided not to question any motives he might have there.
“I saw Posy leave earlier—with Mr. Cockfield.” Violet sucked in a deep breath. “Surely, her attachment to your butler concerns you as it does me? It’s most inappropriate.”
“Not at all.”
Expecting him to agree quietly and perhaps announce that he’d speak with his manservant, his words instead summoned her temper, which rarely saw the light of day.
“Greystone.” Violet’s voice threatened to shake. “He is a butler. If the wrong person sees her cavorting with a manservant, and word got around, not one respectable gentleman will so much as come near her. I really must insist—”
“She is perfectly safe with Mr. Cockfield.” He cut her off. Staring at her, he looked torn for a fraction of a second but then tugged at the elaborate lace at his wrist. “You’ve been away from London too long. If Posy is happy being squired around by my… butler, I’ve no desire to curtail her activities. You’re going to have to trust that I have her best interests at heart.”
“But that makes no sense. Have you discussed the situation with Aunt Iris?” Surely, he was joking?
But he didn’t appear to be joking. On the contrary, he looked as serious as ever.
He also seemed somewhat distracted.
“She’s aware. Please, Violet. Don’t make an issue of this.”
Rather than protest, she simply stared at him, more confused than she had been before. “You look tired. Star watching again?”
He dipped his chin and shrugged. “A bit more than that, but yes, I spent much of the night in my observatory. A particular equation is giving me fits.”
Was it possible her cousin was so caught up with one of his theories that he wasn’t thinking clearly where his butler was concerned? Or perhaps he simply regretted speaking with Lady Isabella’s father.
Violet was going to have to speak with Mr. Cockfield about Posy again.
And she was going to have to insist he keep his distance. If he didn’t agree to do that, Violet would have to do… what?
She searched her mind and then settled on the only remedy available to her.
She and Posy would return to Blossom Court earlier than planned.
Greystone swept his gaze toward the window. “There they are now. See, nothing to worry about. The three of you will wish to travel in the carriage since I’ll be driving Miss Jones in my highflyer.”
But Violet’s gaze remained fixed on the scene outside the window, not really paying much attention to Greystone’s words.
Mr. Cockfield appeared perfectly respectable as he clasped Posy’s hand to assist her out of the vehicle. Violet was slightly relieved that the two of them weren’t gazing into one another’s eyes adoringly. But then she stiffened.
Because although Mr. Cockfield appeared almost businesslike in his efficiency, several curls dangled loosely down Posy’s back.
