“Please,” she added.
The door to the drawing room swung open, and Violet jerked out of Simon’s arms. Aunt Iris glanced between the two of them suspiciously. “Are you ever coming in, Violet?”
“Of course.” Violet turned back to Simon. “And thank you. I’m quite sure you’ll manage this evening without any troubles.”
“With that vote of confidence, how could I not?”
Simon rubbed his chin after Violet disappeared with her aunt. Was she going to be angry when she discovered he’d made himself scarce for the evening? Because he couldn’t possibly stay—not if he wished to finish out the wager. Simon was well-known amongst the guests who would be arriving shortly. He’d be recognized the first time he opened the door. Furthermore, the servants must go on knowing him only as Mr. Cockfield.
Footsteps sounded as a familiar gentleman approached. His own butler, no doubt, was going to manage the evening better than he himself would have. He’d met with the staff earlier, all of whom knew that Mr. Sterling was to be in charge in Simon’s absence.
It was disappointing not to be present for the evening and somehow take part in Greystone’s celebration. Simon wouldn’t be able to keep watch over Violet, or be there to assist her if she needed him… for anything. He’d miss out on her laughter as she encouraged the other young ladies. She had no idea how much she lit up a room.
Although, he conceded, consoling himself slightly, it would have been frustrating not to have been able to lead her onto the floor or walk her in the garden.
She would not be without dance partners. She somehow looked more beautiful every day, and no doubt other gentlemen of the ton would be noticing. So long as none of them asked her into the garden.
She was wearing one of the gowns he’d chosen for her, without a fichu tucked into the bodice, revealing a generous view of decolletage, of which Simon had grown rather fond.
“You can be reached at Heart Place, then, Your Grace?” Mr. Sterling confirmed.
“Yes, send Bugsy if you have any trouble.” Simon glanced at his timepiece. He needed to leave before the guests began arriving. “But I believe everything’s covered. What sort of calamity could occur at an engagement ball? Besides a dropped tray of desserts or perhaps a few flat bottles of champagne?”
Posy’s Secret
Violet stood in line beside the ladies and gentlemen dancing the Roger de Coverley, smiling across at her partner, Lord Burke, as they awaited their turn to go round. She’d danced far more than she’d expected, considering she’d not bothered with a dance card.
Nonetheless, her feet ached in her slippers, and she was quite looking forward to sitting down for supper.
It had been an emotional night. Greystone was going to marry and, of course, everything would change.
She had teared up only once when Greystone and Diana had taken to the floor. Never in her life had she watched two people who seemed more in tune with one another. Diana was lovely and poised, but best of all, she seemed to adore Greystone with all her heart.
Which was a very good thing. Violet could already see that the young woman was going to face more than the usual challenges as the Marchioness of Greystone. And not just amongst the ton, but from servants and possibly merchants. Because, as the illegitimate daughter of the late Lord Chaswick, she was going to be viewed by many as an imposter.
A few of Greystone’s servants appeared none too fond of her. Greystone would speak with them, of course, but Diana would have to gain their respect on her own.
Lord Burke grasped her arm to swing her around, and she set aside her wool-gathering.
Many guests would remain until the early morning hours, but Violet intended to make her escape shortly after the supper dance. She wished she could have a bath after, but the servants had too much to do already.
Her heart fluttered.
Simon was not ready to end things between them. He was coming to her chamber later. And by the look in his eyes, Violet guessed he was as eager to resume this affair as was she.
“This way, Miss Faraday.” Her partner drew her toward him when she missed a step.
She laughed. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.” But she knew the precise source of her inability to concentrate. She was eagerly anticipating a night that she would never forget. It was the closest, she realized, that she would ever come to feeling like a bride.
And she was happy.
Tremendously happy.
When the dance finished, Violet moved along the wall until she found Diana’s older sister, Miss Collette Jones, seated partially behind one of the potted plants that had been brought indoors for the event.
“Are you hiding?” Violet asked as she collapsed onto the empty chair beside her.
Miss Jones smiled slyly. “As my sister insisted I dance all of five sets already, I feel I’ve earned the right.”
