Happiness flooded her, made her speechless.
Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he steered them toward Em and His Grace, who stood waiting up ahead. “If you marry me, you’ll have a lifetime of pleasures to look forward to. Dancing, shooting, riding—we’ll do it all. And that’s to say nothing of the sporting we’ll get up to in the marital bower.”
His intimate suggestion made her toes curl in her half-boots.
“Now you’re being wicked,” she managed.
“Just trying to press any advantage I have.” His eyes smiled at her. “By the by, I spoke to your brother and Strathaven.”
“Oh.” Her heart gave a silly hiccup. “How did it go?”
“They gave me permission. Not that I would have accepted anything else.” He tucked her hand more firmly against his arm. “Face it, Violet: sooner or later, you’re to be mine.”
This time, his determination filled her not with rebelliousness but giddy joy.
~~~
When the group arrived back at the house, Emma announced that she was going to take a nap. Violet found this strange since her sister never napped, but with no chaperone, she had to bid farewell to Richard. Em and Strathaven went with her to find Polly. The youngest Kent was in her sitting room, having an impromptu tea with Gabby and Rosie.
As soon as Violet was settled, Em left, Strathaven following steadily at her heels.
When the door closed behind them, Gabby said with a frown, “I hope my party isn’t wearing out the guests. Everyone is sleepy today.”
“Thea and Tremont were chaperoning us earlier, but they went to take a nap too,” Polly explained.
Given Vi’s recent discovery of physical intimacies, she suspected that her siblings might not be napping—not that she wanted to think about her siblings and the word “intimacies” together in the same sentence. Eww. But she couldn’t blame her sisters for wanting private time with their husbands, not when she found herself constantly distracted by thoughts of Richard.
Imagine a lifetime of making love and playing sports,she thought dreamily.
At the same time, marriage wasn’t something one ought to rush into pell-mell. Hadn’t she promised Emma she’d be more careful? She and Carlisle had had their first kiss only three days ago—although she realized now that she’d been attracted to him far longer. Probably since she pushed him into the fountain. And the intensity of all they’d shared in the past few days made her feel as if they’d known each other for ages. Yet in reality they hadn’t…
That was the problem with thinking: like a dog chasing its own tail, she could go round and round forever and never get anywhere.
Too much thinking makes me…hungry.
Her attention veered to the spread of pastries on the coffee table, which were accompanied by pots of preserves and clotted cream. She accepted a cup of fragrant tea from Gabby and happily helped herself to a plate of goodies.
She’d just taken her first mouthful when Rosie demanded, “Tell us everything. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t spare the good details.”
“Yes, I’m dying to know how the investigation is going,” Gabby said. “Father never tells me anything.”
“Just to be clear, I wasn’t referring to the investigation,” Rosie said, “but Viscount Carlisle.Everyone’s noticed that he’s been paying you marked attention, Vi.”
“Have the two of you overcome your differences?” Polly said softly.
Violet looked at the trio’s eager, wide-eyed expressions and swallowed the bite of cream cake. Gulping tea to wash it down, she said, “As to the investigation, I’m not supposed to say anything. Ambrose made us promise to keep things confidential.”
“Papa didn’t mean you couldn’t tellfamily,” Rosie said with a pout.
Ambrose’s instructions rang in Violet’s head.The details of the investigation must be kept confidential—and that includes the girls. I don’t want their young minds burdened by such dark business. And, for the love of God, say nothing to Rosie—or the entire party will know every last detail of the case by suppertime.
It was true. When it came to gossip, Rosie was like a bird with shiny objects: she liked to collect and show off her glittering bits of knowledge. And being a popular girl, Rosie was a never-ending source of the lateston dit.
Which gave Violet an idea. With Rosie, information flowed both ways. One could learn a lot from the vivacious girl.
“What are the guests saying?” Vi said casually. “About Madame Monique’s death, I mean?”
“Oh, it’s just the usual mélange of fact, fiction, and speculation,” Rosie said airily, “with no way of telling which is which. Although the official story given by Gabby’s papa was that Monique’s death was an accident, I’ve heard allsortsof rumors.”
