“I was aware, Lord Ferrard,” she simply acknowledged.
“You needn’t worry about Violet. She’s already suffered from the dreadful illness as a child.”
“I’m grateful that you do not have a concern, but I’m afraid that I cannot call on her there.”
Her Grace sat forward. “Why is that?”
“I have never encountered the measles.” At least that was a truthful statement. So long as he didn’t add any more lies onto the ones he’d just told, this would not get out of hand. Given Lady Violet’s location, he’d not be able to call on her, and perhaps he could put off such an encounter until spring.
“It wouldn’t do for you to have come all this way only to become ill,” Lady Lucinda offered.
“Hopefully, you can remain in Laswell long enough for an introduction to be gained,” Her Grace ordered, veiled in a comment.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Emory answered only to be polite, though he knew that he’d be leaving Laswell as soon as possible to get him out of this predicament. However, perhaps he should at least gain an introduction to the only woman who had ever intrigued him. Then again, the only reason the fascination remained was because he’d not met her. Did he wish to shatter his illusion of her being a shy, delicate garden nymph?
“I’m confident something can be arranged,” Lady Lucinda suggested. “After all, Lord Ferrard was scheduled to be here for ten days so I see no reason why we can’t send for Violet and ask her to return home.”
He was not staying at Forester Hall, trapped here for nearly a fortnight, and courting a woman he’d not yet met.
Bloody hell, he should have thought before he spoke, and he should not have lied to begin with.
“Though it is unlikely we’d be able to convince Violet to return and you may have better luck with your quest in Laswell,” Lady Lucinda reconsidered.
“I’m certain that my brother will not mind having me. We’ve not seen much of the other since he took his position here.”
“A perfect solution, Lord Ferrard.”
There was no hope for it. He’d need to remain in the village, meet Lady Violet after he could put it off no longer, then hide in his brother’s house if necessary.
Bloody hell! This was why one should always be honest.
Chapter 2
This was notthe holiday Violet anticipated.
The ten days spent with Silvia were supposed to be filled with planning for the coming Season, as Silvia was determined to marry before the summer came to an end. However, the match that she’d truly hoped to make was with Dr. Talbot. She and Violet were going to spend these days considering options to gain his attention thatdidn’tinvolve Silvia suffering a minor injury.
Violet paused in her musings. Silvia may not have been injured; however, she had become ill, though unintentionally. It was likely Dr. Talbot would be visiting daily, which Silvia would quite enjoy, if she were well enough to do so. Though, it could also result in Silvia being mortified in being seen in such an unflattering light, especially if she developed the horrible rash, which was likely to occur. Silvia’s previous intent had been to turn an ankle but only when her hair, dress, and complexion were at their best.
Silvia was Violet’s dearest and most trusted friend, and Violet wasn’t there to lend support because Mrs. Harley had made her leave. Instead, Violet was in an inn, surrounded by servants who thought they needed to see to her care, when they should have a concern about their health. Thus, when Violet couldn’t stand being taken care of or being cooped up any longer, she drew on her pelisse and escaped.
Except, once she’d stepped out onto the walk, Violet wasn’t quite certain where she should go or what to do. She was never without something of interest to occupy her and Violet detested wasting time or cooling her heels, which is what she’d be doing until the guests vacated Forester Hall.
Violet adjusted her grey bonnet and glanced about then noted the shop near the corner. This would be an excellent time to catch up on her reading and Bockham’s Book Shop would have the exact distraction she needed for the coming days.
“Lady Violet, what are you doing?”
She turned to find Bess calling to her from the entrance of the inn.
“I thought to visit Bockham’s.”
“Who will accompany you? I cannot leave.”
“This is Laswell, not the streets of London,” Violet dismissed. “I am known here, and the residents will not think it odd if I am out and about without a maid.”
Bess frowned. An expression Violet was familiar with, as she’d seen it far too often since she was fourteen.
“You go inside and take care. I do not want you to become ill.”
