She needn’t turn around to know it was him. Her racing heart was evidence enough.
“It’s too lovely of a night to go to bed yet.” She kept her gaze focused ahead, where she could just make out the pink and purple lilacs in the moonlight. She’d asked to speak to him alone, and he’d found her.
“Did you enjoy yourself this afternoon?” he asked, having fallen into step beside her.
“I did. And, I’ll have you know, I have been thoroughly apprised of the latest gossip.” Her smile fell.
“Some of it was unpleasant, then?”
“Is it just you who seems to be capable of reading my mind, or do you think everyone can?” Violet didn’t like the notion that she was so transparent. A lady needed to keep a few secrets, after all.
“I’m not sure.” At the end of the path, he paused and turned to face her.
Violet licked her lips, keeping her eyes on the top button of his waistcoat. “Those are words I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“I’m not sure of all sorts of things.”
“You certainly don’t show it.” Violet lifted her gaze to his. “Tell me. What else are you unsure of?”
“My sisters, for one. I’m not at all sure of their happiness. And since they’ve become young women, they resist my opinion more with every passing day.”
“How old are they?”
“Old enough to think they are grown but too young to be trusted not to make foolish mistakes. I don’t know when this happened,” he answered.
So, they were in their teens.
Violet smiled sadly. “I believe it’s something that happens the minute they begin wearing their hair up. Posy refused an invitation to go driving with a viscount today.”
Simon didn’t seem surprised. She shouldn’t have been either. Violet sighed.
“You need to let her live the life that she wants,” he said. “Not the life you want for her.”
Violet wanted to be angry with him, but tonight—she was tired of failing.
“Do you think I’m controlling?” she asked.
“You? Surprisingly not. But Posy, Lady Posy, is going to be very unhappy if she disappoints you. She cares about your opinion.”
Violet nodded. But then, exhausted by the subject, she turned to pluck at one of the clusters of lilacs. “Tell me something else you are uncertain of.”
Without hesitation, he gestured toward his arm. “This injury has kept me from being as active as I like.” A shadow flickered in his eyes. “And I have moments when I worry it won’t heal properly.”
“It will. You’ve been careful with it. And, for the record, you accomplish everything required of you,” Violet pointed out.
“Yes, well…” And then he grimaced. “No man likes working with one hand tied behind his back, so to speak.”
“What else?” If he was prepared to talk, Violet wanted to listen.
He stared into the darkness. “I used to worry about the future all the time—especially in the first few years after my parents died.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten and seven.”
He was younger than she had been. And he’d had three younger siblings to look after.
“You used to worry about it? But you no longer do?”
