Page 44 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“Thank you for your rescue, Manning. I hope we can keep this whole unfortunate episode private.” By God, when he got her home he’d shake the woman like a terrier with a rat. How dare she run off to this place?

“My desire as well, Trevor.” Manning picked up his cloak and draped it around Violet’s shoulders. “I would not want it to get about the ton that my wife had been seen in a brothel.”

“Your what?” Tris jerked his attention back to the handsome lord. Had the man gone mad? “What the devil are you talking about?”

“Lord Manning asked for my hand in marriage. I had just accepted his proposal when you burst in and interrupted us.” Violet straightened, a triumphant smile settling like a mantle over her face. “Will you wish me happy, Lord Trevor?”

Tris nodded, the ice in his belly freezing the rest of him. She’d accepted another man. Numbness spread from his middle outward, like rays of a dead sun. Dead or not, he must show nothing. “Of course, Miss Carlton. My heartfelt felicitations.”

Her gaze searched his face without finding what she sought. Her smile slackened to a pitiful drooping of the lips.

Manning’s frown darkened his face. He tugged on the sleeves of his golden brown jacket. “You cannot imagine my shock and dismay when I discovered Miss Carlton here. I immediately thought of Kat’s ordeal.”

The earl’s sister had been kidnapped and sold in the House of Pleasure not quite a year ago.

“Naturally, I assumed the same circumstances applied to Miss Carlton but she explained her unfortunate situation.” He shook his head, his jaw firming, as he stared at Violet. “Of course, as a gentleman I could do nothing less than offer her the protection of my name.” His gaze swung toward Tris, skewering him with an accusatory glare.

Tris ground his teeth, aching to clarify his relationship with Violet to the earl. But it was done. He’d lost her. Years of training to withhold any outward display of emotion rose automatically to mind. He summoned an inscrutable mask and donned it without thought. “Miss Carlton has been most fortunate to encounter you, my lord. You will wed immediately, I assume?”

Certainly for the best if they did. Remove any sort of temptation to renege on the betrothal. Manning was a good sort, according to Duncan. He could be sure the man would treat Violet well enough. How she’d cope with keeping regular company with the marquess who’d had a hand in her brother’s death was anyone’s guess. Had she even stopped to consider that? At least she wouldn’t have to see him every day.

“We were about to leave when you came in, Trevor.” Lord Manning stared pointedly at the broken door behind Tris. He sighed and shrugged. “Although I’m deucedly at a loss for where to lodge Miss Carlton this evening. Tomorrow I can hire a maid and set her up at a reputable inn until I can procure a special license. But tonight…I suppose I could take her to Dalbury’s, although he’s still in an uproar over Juliet.”

Violet started, then backed away from the earl, wringing her hands. The dim light cast mottled shadows on her strained, pale face.

“That would not be wise, I think.” Perhaps the last place she should go, save one. Still, under the circumstances, he’d have to offer it.

“Do not worry, my dear.” Manning took Violet’s hand. “Good Lord, your fingers are like ice.” He set to chaffing it vigorously. “Something will come to mind.”

Tris dug his nails into his palms until the ache became intolerable. “If I may suggest it, Manning, allow Miss Carlton to return to Lammas House for the night. Or until you marry. She has a maid and a full staff there to attend her.”

The earl left off rubbing her hands, now rosy with his attentions, and frowned. “Lammas House?”

“Where I stayed when I was under Lord Trevor’s protection, my lord.” Violet’s lips trembled, but she stared at the earl calmly.

Manning shrugged. “Will that arrangement be acceptable, Miss Carlton?”

With a searing look at Tris, she opened her mouth.

Steeling himself for a resounding “No,” he wondered what the hell they were to do with her then, but she closed her mouth and nodded, not meeting either his or Manning’s eyes.

Manning relaxed, a boyish smile lighting his face. He’d been worried as well it seemed. “Good. Much obliged, Trevor.” He nodded and motioned for Violet to go to the door. “I’ll send the boy for my carriage. What’s the direction?”

“It’s in Soho, not far, off of…”

Resting his hand on the small of Violet’s back, Manning ushered her out the door.

“I’ll lead you there.” He’d thought he’d gotten himself in hand, but the intimate gesture from Manning had jerked the response from him as though he’d been stabbed with a hot poker.

They passed Madame Vestry’s office on the way out, but the room was dark; the woman had wisely made herself scarce. Just as well. He might have kept his promise to throttle her if he’d found her there.

Chapter 18

The damp cold soaked into Tris’s bones although he kept Lucifer to a quick trot all the way to Lammas House. The ride seemed interminable and not just because of the chill weather. He could scarcely wait to be alone with Violet. He’d pounce upon her so hard her ears would fall off. Why in God’s name had she gone back to The House of Pleasure? To insult him? Obviously. She’d done that when she’d left everything he’d given her. That should have been enough to wound him to the quick. So why hadn’t she gone to her friend? Round and round the arguments raced, with answers unlikely to present themselves.

At last they drew up before the small, comfortable, lapped board front of Lammas House. Tris rode around to the mews, handing Lucifer over to a groom with strict instructions for the horse’s care. Unnecessary, of course. The groom had been here for years. The knots in his stomach, however, told him he needed time to steel himself for the coming confrontation.

When he finally entered the parlor, Violet perched next to Manning, who had seated himself—or been seated—on the sofa.