“I’ve always wondered why you disappear into gardens and now I have my answer,” Lord Ferrard said. “Now that I know of your interest in botany.”
She could let him assume as such, but that wasn’t the full truth.
However, what would he think of her if she told him her reasons?
Violet glanced up at Lord Ferrard from beneath her emerald bonnet and decided that she must be honest. Each time she feared revealing herself, he’d not thought poorly of her. As if all the warnings that she’d received from her grandmother on how Violet must conduct herself did not apply to Lord Ferrard.
“While the gardens are pleasant, it is the peace they provide that I seek.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t do well in crowds, yet I’m forced to endure them for three or four months each spring.” Just thinking about the crowded ballrooms of London caused her chest to tighten. A few times she’d had to escape because her throat had begun to close, and she feared that she might not be able to breathe. “Its people being too close, cloying perfumes, and the cacophony that I cannot endure.”
There, she’d confessed some of the reason why she detested going into Society.
“Then it’s my inability to read…” He didn’t need to know all her failings. While Lord Ferrard was becoming a good friend, he was not Silvia and she shouldn’t confess all.
“I know you can read, Lady Violet,” he spoke quietly. “As I know you are not speaking of books or newssheets, I assume you mean people.”
“Since I was a child, I’ve taken everything in a literal sense. Sarcasm is often lost on me, and when I was very young, I took teasing as cruelty. My sister, Amelia, helped me discern within my family. Yet, if I am being completely honest, that childhood fear of ridicule still lives within. It is not rational, that I realize, but it remains, nonetheless, especially when I’ve witnessed the cruel gossip within theton.”
Violet turned away. Why did she have the overwhelming need to cry? Those people had no power to harm her. They didn’t understand her, which was their failing and not hers. Yet, sometimes, it cut deeply. Why was it bothering her so much today when it hadn’t in months?
“I’ve heard what is said of me, Lord Ferrard. And though it invites further censure, my need to escape to the most pleasant place I can find always overwhelms the logic of remaining within the crowd to prove that I am not any of those things they claim.”
“The gardens,” he whispered as he placed his hands on her upper arms, as if offering comfort, and it was nearly her undoing.
Violet quickly fished a handkerchief from inside of her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “I must apologize, Lord Ferrard. I can assure you that in most cases I am quite pragmatic and reasonable, and it’s rare that I become a watering pot. What must you think of me?” She tried to laugh off her weakness when what she really wished to do was turn and press her face against his chest, have his arms about her.
She’d not wanted to cry about how those in Society treated her, or the gossip she’d heard of her being unmarriageable unless desperate. All because she couldn’t carry on a witty conversation and was uncomfortable and stiff the few times she’d danced.
Why was the pain so raw today?
“Do you know what I thought of you in London?”
“I’m not certain I wish to know,” Violet confessed.
Emory chuckled. “I’d decided that you were a shy, delicate garden nymph who preferred flowers to people.”
“I do prefer flowers to people,” she laughed lightly, then sniffed one last time and dabbed her eyes before pulling away from him. “I do apologize Lord Ferrard. I don’t know what came over me.”
“There is no need to apologize Violet. Society can be cruel, as I well know. However, I’m sorry that it pains you to be within a crowd, as the Season offers few entertainments that don’t involve dozens of people.”
“You don’t think me odd, or somehow flawed?” Why did she need the reassurance? When did she become insecure? She’d been confident for years, but now it was almost as if she were a child again and hoping to be accepted and liked.
“I think you are charmingly unique.”
At that, she snorted. “I can assure you I have no charm. If I wished to be charming, I’m not certain I know how to begin.”
“But you do have the capacity to charm others simply by being yourself.”
Goodness she was getting warm. Further she was suffering heart palpitations and her pulse was racing. If Lord Ferrard stepped any closer, she may very well combust.
Of course, she knew it was an impossibility, yet her body certainly responded as if it could.
Lord Ferrard placed a finger beneath her chin and with the slightest of pressure lifted her face so that she could look into his eyes.
Violet sucked in a breath for she was certain that he was about to kiss her. She should reject him, push him away, as this was not a real courtship, but she wanted, no needed, his lips on hers.
Lord Ferrard leaned closer.
“I knew he was the culprit!” Lady Esther cried.
