“The truth is that he behaves no differently than your brother,” added Violet, nodding in the direction Osborn had taken. “And you would never claim he views me as a sweetheart.”
Diana drew in a deep breath and nodded, though Felicity didn’t look as convinced. But then, it was to be expected. The lady had only newly returned to the area and hadn’t witnessed Violet’s disastrous attempts at catching a beau. And now that she’d surrendered all hope of doing so, Felicity would never see Violet’s ridiculousness. Thankfully.
How many times had she taken a harmless compliment like that which Dr. Vaughn had offered and inferred far more meaning from it? His little bouquets were no more romantic tokens than Osborn’s or any of the other gentlemen whose intentions had been so entirely platonic that it never crossed their minds that she might interpret their actions as romantic. Never once had they considered Violet a possibility.
Twelve years later, Violet’s heart still sank at the memory of Mr. Bradford’s shock when someone had mentioned his marked attentions toward her. One moment, they’d been laughing and jesting as they always were; then, one innocent comment from an observer and he’d looked as stricken as if they’d said his mother had passed. Though he’d tried to hide his initial reaction, it had been clear for her to see, proclaiming to all and sundry how much he despised the prospect. As did the fact that he never spoke another word to her or even looked in her direction again.
Violet drew in a breath and forced herself to breathe. Such things didn’t matter any longer. Their opinions, though painful, didn’t define Violet Templeton. Her worth was far greater than any silly title. Spinster no longer frightened her, and she would not allow herself to devolve to the time when it had.
“Perhaps, but Dr. Vaughn seems too timid a gentleman to be so forward in addressing you,” said Felicity with a furrowed brow.
“Doesn’t that only serve to prove the point?” replied Violet. “Surely, if he had grand designs, he would be even more awkward in my presence. Not less. And I assure you that though he was slightly timid during our introduction, he seems at ease around me now. You recall how much he stammered and stuttered through his attempts to ask me to dance, yet now, he faltered not one bit when asking to sit beside me for the concert.”
Felicity opened her mouth once more, but Violet was saved from more lectures when Mrs. Birks appeared at her elbow and spoke softly to their hostess.
“Do excuse me, but I am needed elsewhere,” said Felicity, though her furrowed brow didn’t ease as she cast one more look at Violet. Her mouth opened as though to speak, but the lady seemed to dismiss it, following after Mrs. Birks without another word.
Thank the heavens.
“Say what you will, but I am not convinced,” said Diana, flicking open her fan.
Dash it all. Violet didn’t want to keep revisiting the subject.
“I hated the man on sight because of what he meant for your family, but the more I hear of him, the more I like him.” Diana’s significant tone fairly begged Violet to ask what she’d heard, but as it was quite likely that his movements and their time together had been remarked upon, it took little imagination to surmise what the lady had “heard.”
“Do not close your heart to the possibility, Vi. Whatever the past, this time may be different.”
But Violet was saved from more of a lecture when Miss Quinn appeared at Diana’s elbow with a bright smile.
Without preamble, the young lady burst into the conversation with, “I have it on good authority that your family is planning a trip to Bath in the autumn.”
Diana’s eyes darted to Violet and then back again. “We’ve visited a few times before, but Dr. Vaughn suggested Mama might benefit from taking the waters.”
“My aunt lives there and has invited me to spend a month or two with them.”
“Oh, that is delightful!”
And with that, Diana took the young lady by the arm and began waxing poetic about what she knew of the city and its society. Miss Quinn beamed, and the pair drifted away without noticing that Violet hadn’t followed.
Chapter 23
Wandering to the far side of the room, Violet stood before a painting, pretending to study the canvas; the subject was not particularly inspiring, as it was like any number she’d seen of men sitting astride a horse, but being turned away from the gathering allowed her a moment’s peace.
Her family and friends meant well, but the key to Violet’s happiness was sloughing off fantasies; one could not be happy if one constantly clung to dreams that would never be fulfilled. Reaching that dreaded age of thirty without a single prospect had nearly broken her heart in two, and venturing into society with the ever-present hope that perhaps—just perhaps—today’s foray would prove victorious had only served to crush those remnants into powder.
No, better to embrace truth rather than kindly-meant poppycock.
How many hours had she spent crying over her dashed hopes? Violet was certain that the total likely equaled months if not years of her life. A husband and a family. A home to call her own. She had dreamt of such things from a young age, and despite all the evidence to the contrary, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from believing that somehow a man would see pasther surface flaws and long to take her as his own. To spend their lives together. To cleave unto one another.
But then, many of the gentlemen in her past had known her beyond theMr.Templeton façade, spending weeks and months in her company, and still, they’d chosen others for their brides. So, it wasn’t merely a matter of surface attractions. Oh, no. Her personality was severely lacking as well.
Despite having spent many an hour contemplating what it was that others found so repellant, Violet was no closer to an answer. Many laughed at her behind her back (or directly in her face), but she was capable of forming friendships. However fleeting they were. People flitted in and out of her life, rarely caring to linger for more than a year or two before moving on to those they deemed more deserving of their affection.
Diana and Miss Quinn’s conversation settled in her thoughts, and Violet wondered what it would be like to go to an entirely new place where her reputation wasn’t dictated by the unchangeable past. To have a clean slate. A fresh start. Could things be different? Or was it some immutable characteristic inside her that made her friendship so easy to dismiss?
Drawing in a sharp breath, Violet frowned at the painting. This was why it was better not to think of beaus and romance. It was impossible not to grow maudlin when faced with heartbreaking and unanswerable questions. Silly lady that she was.
Turning to face the gathering, Violet gazed out at the people. Despite being far larger than before with the partitions drawn back and the furniture swept away, the room was quite full. To the far side sat the makeshift stage with a piano and several large floral arrangements stood sentinel beside it while rows upon rows of chairs stretched out in the opposite direction.
