“Can you join me for a cup?” Violet stepped back, clasping the back of a chair in case her knees, now the consistency of pudding, gave out on her completely.
“Come sit down,” he took her elbow and led her back to her chair. “I’ve been wanting a word with you.”
“That sounds ominous.” She attempted to sound breezy but couldn’t prevent the wobble in her voice. His demeanor was that of a man about to say something she didn’t want to hear.
Was he going to end their affair already? He must fear losing his job if they were found out. Or he hadn’t found their time together as satisfying as she had.
In other words, she wasn’t worth the trouble.
She dropped into her chair, and he took the seat beside her.
“It is somewhat troubling, but I wanted you to hear it from me.”
Her breath caught. “It’s all right. I quite understand.”
“You know?”
The door flew open again. “There you are, Violet.” She jerked her hand out of Simon’s as her cousin entered. “Cockfield.”
Greystone’s gaze narrowed as he glanced between the two of them, but rather than attempt to provide an explanation, Violet scowled at being interrupted.
If he was allowed to drink scotch whisky with the butler, then she darn well could take tea with him.
“Going over details for this evening?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, no. But how was your ride this morning?” she asked.
“Brisk. Invigorating.” Greystone didn’t move to sit. “But I’ve heard something… disturbing, and I needed a word with you.”
Violet stiffened. Had Greystone discovered what had been going on between the two of them beneath his very own roof?
“You are aware that the Duke of Coventry has made inquiries after Captain Thompson?”
The question took her by surprise, although Simon made no move to leave but remained seated beside her. She did not push his hand away when it clasped hers beneath the table.
Greystone was quite unaware.
“What I’m about to tell you, Violet,” her cousin continued softly, “is going to come as quite a shock.”
“Please, just tell me.” She felt almost dizzy. How long had she been holding her breath?
“I ran into Coventry while riding this morning.”
Violet just stared at him. “The duke? Is he…? Is he well?”
Greys nodded. “Old as time but looking fit as a fiddle, but that is not the point. The point is that Captain Thompson has been located.”
“His… body?”
Simon squeezed her hand.
“No. The man. And he is very much alive. At least according to the investigator’s reports.”
“But that is not possible.” Violet shook her head, grateful for the strength of Simon’s hand in hers.
“But… How?” Cold swept through her limbs. “Where?”
“Details are unclear for now. But the duke’s story is that his nephew was taken prisoner and then suffered an injury to his head. When Thompson saw an image of his likeness in one of the papers, an ad Coventry’s solicitors were running, he replied, and he is already aboard a ship bound for England. The packet is scheduled to arrive any day.”
