Violet scuttled into the foyer and hastily joined her aunt and Posy.
“There you are. You weren’t in your chamber.” Aunt Iris’s eyes lit up and Violet knew Simon had entered behind her. “And my dear Mr. Cockfield.”
“The carriage is waiting, my ladies,” he said and then turned. “Miss Faraday.”
Perfectly composed as usual.
As Simon assisted their party out the front door, Violet realized she’d not really learned anything new about him—nor had she extracted the promise she’d hoped that he’d cease to escort her niece around town.
He’d asked her to trust him.
How was that possible?
Lady Chaswick’s drawing room was already overflowing with guests when they arrived. Posy excused herself to join one of the Miss Joneses, and Aunt Iris took a seat with the other dowagers. Glancing around, Violet discreetly joined a few of the ladies who’d been at dinner the evening before: Lady Tabetha Spencer, who happened to be Lady Chaswick’s younger sister, along with Lady Hawthorne and Lady Darlington.
The Countess of Hawthorne sent her a welcoming smile at the same time the others burst into giggles at the end of an anecdote Violet missed. She relaxed when Bethany appeared at her side.
“I’m so glad you came today.” The baroness smiled fondly, touching Violet’s arm.
“Well, this certainly is a crush. Would you prefer I extend my sympathies or congratulations?”
“A little of both if you don’t mind?”
Violet appreciated that Bethany didn’t feign the ennui many ladies showed. Instead, she was practical, slightly self-deprecating, and possessed a delightful sense of humor.
“Then you have them.” Violet laughed. “The room is quite abuzz. Have I missed the latest scandal?”
“Hmm… One can never know for certain,” Bethany placed one finger on her lips thoughtfully. “Mr. Somerset’s heir lost the family fortune, and from what I’ve gleaned, if Miss Somerset doesn’t land a husband this season, it’s going to be her and Miss Delia’s last.”
Even though Violet wasn’t well-acquainted with either of the young women, she experienced a pang of regret for both of them. It bothered her that not every debutante could find that happily ever after. “Poor thing. Do you think she’ll be successful?”
“I can’t say. She doesn’t exactly inspire my sympathy, but for Delia’s sake, I hope so.”
Miss Delia Somerset was a shorter, rounder, mousier version of her older sister.
“On a more pleasant note, rumor has it that Lady Rockingham is with child.” The Marchioness of Rockingham was slightly older than Violet, and she’d lost a child in her first marriage before being widowed.
“How wonderful for her.” Violet was happy for the marchioness. Raising Posy was the closest that she herself would come to motherhood, and she’d been lucky to have that.
“And this,” Bethany added. “The Duke of Coventry is making inquiries to locate an heir. Lord Percival was the only remaining male, what with losing his sons a few years ago. My understanding is that it isn’t only about the title. Before dying, Lord Percival had turned his portion into a small fortune.”
The mention of that family jolted Violet. That Christopher’s father had been so successful, however, was not all that surprising. “Lord Percival was an astute businessman, as I remember.”
“You knew him?” Bethany’s brows shot up. “I understand his son was declared dead a few years ago, but no real evidence was ever brought forth. Lady Sheffield said the solicitors intend to have one last look into the matter before contacting some very distant family in Scotland.”
Violet felt a little queasy. What if the duke’s solicitors discovered new information? And what if that information confirmed those dreadful rumors—rumors that Christopher had not been attacked or captured by the enemy, but that he’d willingly taken up with one of the local women there.
Because he hadn’t wanted to return to his obligations in England.
She inhaled. That was impossible.
And yet, even if nothing came of it, an investigation itself would stir up the old gossip.
Shame that she’d believed she’d gotten over threatened to rise up. It was also possible, she reminded herself, that an inquiry could squash those old rumors once and for all.
“I hope the duke finds what he needs,” Violet said. But something in her voice must have given away more than a casual knowledge.
“You are acquainted with the family, then?”
