* * *
Violet was asleep. But she was not sleeping. Because if that was the case, then the cool damp of the ground wouldn’t be seeping through her gown.
She opened her eyes to see Miss Collette Jones’s face hovering over her.
“Miss Faraday?”
Violet glanced to one side and then to the other, and then pushed herself up. “Was there a man here? How long have I been laying here?”
Miss Jones pressed a hand to Violet’s shoulder, stilling her. “Barely a minute. I knew you’d come outside, and seeing as they were beginning to serve supper, I came to find you. I’m so glad I did.”
“Did you see a man? A gentleman?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, but when I arrived, he insisted on leaving. He said you would prefer that a lady assist you.”
Violet blinked. He had looked so very much like Christopher—only not. But he could not have been a ghost.
Perhaps he was simply one of the guests—a gentleman who’d come outside for a smoke. But when Violet closed her eyes, his image appeared behind her lids.
His hair was different then she’d remembered, and she hadn’t seen his face properly, but there had been something familiar in the way he’d reached for her, and his voice had been unmistakable.
Violet lifted her hand to her mouth. Was it possible she’d conjured him out of her imagination?
“Miss Faraday, you’re white as a ghost. Should I send for your cousin, or your maid?”
But this was Greystone’s betrothal ball. Violet wouldn’t ruin it for him and Diana. “No. No, I’ll be fine. Please don’t mention this to anyone. I…I haven’t eaten today. Silly of me, really.”
Violet gathered her gown clear of her feet and then rose on shaky legs. Greystone would know something was amiss if she wasn’t inside when supper was served. And Posy might think Violet was upset over what she’d learned, which she was, but she didn’t want Posy to worry.
“Is my hair mussed?”
Miss Jones fussed with it a moment. “A few loose strands, but it’s rather lovely, actually.”
Violet nodded. “You won’t tell anyone…?”
“Of course not. It’s no wonder ladies aren’t dropping constantly. If I had my druthers, all corsets would be cast into Hades. Pardon my frankness, Miss Faraday.”
“Not at all, and please, call me Violet.”
“And I am Collette.” Violet swayed, and the young woman reached out to steady her. “You are certain you are well?”
“I’ll be fine.” Violet inhaled what she hoped would be a fortifying breath. I’m perfectly fine.
No matter that the ghost of her long-dead fiancé had appeared to her out of the darkness.
“I’m fine.” But her lips felt numb, and she didn’t quite feel the ground beneath her feet.
Collette grasped Violet’s arm, and Violet leaned on the other woman more than she’d have liked. After they reached the doors, however, Violet stepped away and smoothed her skirts. “I’m going to take a moment…”
“Of course, and you know where to find me if you need anything at all.” Collette grimaced.
“Behind the plant?”
“Shh… And not until after I’ve eaten.” Collette grinned. “Don’t tell my brother or Bethany.”
Violet smiled weakly, thanked her again, and then excused herself. She wouldn’t bother Greystone or Posy or even Lady Bethany. There was only one person she wanted to see. She simply needed to find him.
Upon entering the supper room and not seeing Simon there, Violet approached the servants’ entrance just as one of the kitchen maids appeared.
