“Where is Lady Lillian?” Alexander called after the man as he hurried away to comply with his orders.
“Whom, Your Grace?” The man asked, turning smartly on his heel.
“Lady Violet’s sister,” Alexander said, forgetting himself enough to use the wrong familial title. “She arrived with Lady Violet earlier today.”
“And I have not seen her since, Your Grace.”
“But she left us to come back here and study the accounts,” Violet said.
“Indeed, My Lady. But she did not arrive. There have been no visitors since yourself and the good Lady Lillian arrived earlier today, My Lady.”
Chapter 25
“Ido not like this,” Violet said, striding from drawing room to dining room, then through to the library. They had taken a carriage to the Ravendel house, seeking Lillian there.
“Do not like what, Violet?” George Ravendel said, rising from his chair facing the fire.
He held a book in one hand, a finger marking his place. A pair of pince-nez rested on the end of his nose. Violet stopped dead in the middle of the room as Alexander met the eyes of the man he knew thought ill of him.
“Well, Your Grace, I did not know we were to be so honored,” George said, putting the book down on his chair.
“Uncle George. Of course, you have met His Grace the Duke of Lorchester.”
George looked at his niece with a quizzical expression. “Indeed I have. I know him in person and by reputation, one might say.”
There was clearly a veiled meaning to that comment and Violet heard Alexander take in a long slow breath. A glance at him saw the tightness in his face that was controlled anger. The smile he wore to cover that emotion was the thinnest of barriers.
“Lillian and I dined with His Grace today and I spent some time with him yesterday,” Violet said, skirting around the question of courtship.
“Have you indeed? I knew nothing of this. It’s a rum do when a girl must keep her guardian in the dark, Your Grace,” George said sternly.
“But hardly my fault, Ravendel,” Alexander said, his tone brittle.
“One would hope that a gentleman would come to me if he wishes to visit with my niece.”
“My aid was requested in the matter of Violet’s parentage,” Alexander said with a smile that bared teeth.
George blanched and Violet felt the blow that had been landed.
But then, Uncle George, why refuse to tell me? Why keep it so secret? You have brought this upon yourself.
She turned to Alexander, smiling briefly and touching his arm, hoping to communicate to him that she wished to handle this situation herself.
“And I have agreed to share my knowledge of English society that His Grace may better…fit into it.”
“All the better to overturn that society, is that not so, Your Grace?” George said.
“To make life better for the poorest in our society and protect them from exploitation,” Alexander replied, his smile vanishing.
“Or to uproot the very foundations of that society. Perhaps things are different in Scotland. But in England, we do not care for revolutionaries,” George said, stabbing a finger toward Alexander.
“You did not seem to think so when I was last in this house,” Alexander said.
“I have been educated since then, sir,” George replied.
Violet wanted to stamp her feet. The two men were almost squaring up to each other. She was at least grateful that her Uncle was too much of a gentleman to resort to such things. But Alexander came from a different world, one where insult was met by a fist and only the strongest survived. She kept her hand on his arm, squeezing slightly and hoping that Uncle George did not notice. The hope was in vain. George’s dark eyes went tothe movement and widened slightly. He puffed himself up like a bantam rooster.
“Do my eyes deceive me or is there more to your acquaintanceship than you have intimated?”
