Richard thought so, and he hoped he was beginning to convince her of the fact. Using sports to lure her had been a masterful stroke, if he did say so himself. The truth was that the possibility of spending a lifetime playing with Violet, being with her, filled him with wonder… and embarrassing eagerness.
He reined himself in. He was a grown man, not some greenling. Moreover, he’d come to the conclusion that Violet’s insistence that they “like” each other stemmed from her uncertainty about him rather than vice versa. It was obvioushelikedher; hell, he’d said it outright. How much clearer could he be?
Thus, the true trouble, he reasoned, must be thatshehadn’t yet committed her feelings to him. His history reared its ugly head again: securing a lady’s devotion had never been his forte. But he told himself that Violet was different, that her uncertainty was understandable given their early antagonism. How many times had she accused him of being stodgy and traditional… a blasted stuffed shirt?
“If only I could get her to see that we’re a fit,” he muttered.
Hephaestus had managed to accomplish a similar feat. After he’d parted ways with Aphrodite, the humble god had somehow convinced Aglaea, the goddess of vitality, to take him on. But that was mythology; this was real life. How did one go about convincing a beautiful, spirited young woman that one wasn’t boring and tedious?
“I assume you’ve tried the usual strategies of persuasion?” Wick said.
Richard didn’t know there were any. “Er, usual strategies?”
“You know. Poetry and poesies, that sort of thing. A trinket to symbolize your affection.”
Wilted daffodils blazed in his head. He’d never been good at gifts. Neither Lucinda Belton nor Audrey Keane had been impressed with the trifles he’d presented them with… and reciting poetry?
Out of the question. He had to respect himself in the morning.
Apparently sensing his unease, Wick said hastily, “The gift itself doesn’t matter. With Violet, it’s the thought that counts. I’m sure she’ll appreciate anything you give her.”
The tips of Richard’s ears burned as he realized that he hadn’t given Violetanytokens of his esteem. Their courtship had consisted mostly of arguing and lovemaking. Even he knew that a man ought to go wooing with more than lust in his pocket. But what could he offer her…?
Inspiration struck him like a hammer against an anvil. The certainty of it resounded within him. He knew theperfectgift for Violet—and how to deliver it in a suitably romantic fashion.
“Uh oh,” Wick said under his breath.
Kent had entered the room and was heading over.
“Time to make myself scarce,” Wick muttered. “You’ll keep me apprised?”
Richard nodded, and Wick went to find refuge amongst his cronies just as Kent arrived.
“How did the meeting go?” Richard said by way of greeting.
“As expected.” Kent’s rawboned features looked weary. “On the bright side, the magistrate plans to follow my recommendation and send his men to local stations that sell tickets to Gretna. If Wormleigh was telling the truth about the lovers he overheard, there might be a record in a ledger somewhere of the couple. It’s a long shot, but I believe in leaving no stone unturned.”
Not for the first time, Richard was impressed by the other man’s diligence and clear thinking. He respected Kent, liked the man. Liked all of Violet’s family, actually.
“I admire your thoroughness, sir,” he said.
“It’s part of the job,” Kent said. “Where are the others?”
“Miss Kent is with some family members, I believe. Their Graces are taking a nap.”
“A nap.” Kent’s voice had a wistful edge. “Well, I shan’t disturb them. By the by, I ran into Billings on the way in. I informed him about Garrity and Burns, and he was adamant that we not approach the former on our own. He’s making arrangements for us to have an ‘audience’ with Garrity tomorrow morning.”
“He’s that afraid of Garrity?”
“Apparently, the moneylender is a man one doesn’t want to offend.” Kent sighed. “But it’s just as well. I have no desire to cut a swath through Garrity’s cutthroats just to talk to him.”
“That leaves Burns. Shall we go find him?”
“No need. Speak of the devil.” Kent lifted his chin toward the doorway.
Burns had made an entrance. Even as ladies swarmed the blond performer, he had a distracted expression. He craned his neck as if looking for someone… then he spotted Richard and Kent, his gaze widening. Extricating himself from his adoring female horde, he hurried out.
Richard and Kent took off after the juggler. In the hallway, Richard saw Burns’ wiry figure disappear into the billiards room. He and Kent exchanged a wordless nod; he strode toward the farther door while the investigator took the closer one. Between the two of them, they would block off the exits to the room.
