Page 63 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“I will, lovey. Go to sleep. I’m right here.” Gently, Violet squeezed the small hand.

Anna squeezed back, then her hand fell limply onto the coverlet.

Violet smoothed the tiny brow as the child’s breathing became slow and regular. “Poor darling.”

She’d been told Anna’s mother had been ill for months. The little girl had been kept away from her for fear she would catch the mysterious illness that had kept Judith Harper unable to leave her bed. No wonder poor Anna clung to her father so.

Violet waited until she was deeply asleep, then rose and headed for the nursery. She’d found naptime the perfect opportunity to read. Lady Downing allowed her to take books from the library and she’d found a lovely volume by Samuel Richardson called Pamela. The antics of the maid as she fended off her employer had proven most entertaining during the past week. A chapter or two a day and the story was flying by. She wished she could still practice her music, but beggars could not be choosers. With a little hum of satisfaction, she picked up her shawl and the volume and headed for the nursery.

“Miss Carlton.”

Violet stopped, shocked to see Miss Harper still seated on the sofa sipping tea. “Miss Harper. I beg your pardon. I didn’t realize you were still here.” Why on earth was she still here? “Shall I call for more tea?”

“No, thank you.” The younger woman stared into the fireplace, as if avoiding Violet.

A cold dread crept up Violet’s spine. Miss Harper had stayed to have her say—to finally confront her about Tristan. Heart hammering, she returned to the chair in which she’d sat during the tea party. She straightened her skirts and squared her shoulders. There was no defense for her actions, but she couldn’t be ashamed of her love for Tris either. She raised her chin and gazed at Miss Harper, relieved to have the matter brought out in the open at last.

“I’d hoped to speak to you earlier, Miss Carlton, but the time has never seemed quite right since you arrived.” Miss Harper fingered the edge of her black and green figured gown.

“Yes?” Violet steeled herself for the accusation.

“You and Lord Trevor have been friends for some time he has told me. You are, in fact, related?” The blue eyes across from her were neither hard nor narrowed. Rather than acting the wronged woman, Miss Harper seemed almost shy.

“The connection is remote,” Violet answered carefully. “But we have been acquainted for some time.” Certainly, God would forgive the lie. The lesser of her sins to be sure.

“He spoke very highly of you to my father. Praised your character and skills with children. From what I’ve seen of you and Anna I can tell he has spoken nothing but truth.” The girl smiled and leaned forward.

“Thank you, Miss Harper.” For some reason, she didn’t sound angry at all. More confused than ever, Violet clasped her hands together to keep them from quivering.

“So I was wondering if you might help me.” Suddenly fidgety, Miss Harper tucked her head until her chin almost rested on her chest and squeezed her hands together tightly.

“Help you?” What help could this young woman possibly need from her?

“Yes, you see…” The girl twisted restlessly in her seat, looking ready to bolt from the room. “I suppose you know I am to marry Lord Trevor this spring?”

“Yes.” The word came out clipped as a wave of pain crashed over Violet, closing her throat. The innocuous question cut like a knife in her chest.

“I have only met Lord Trevor a few times.” Chaotic color spread from Miss Harper’s neck upward to her forehead, turning her face the hue of a summer rose. “He seems very kind, but aloof. So I was wondering…” She clutched her skirts as though they were a lifeline. “I wondered if you could tell me something of him, of his character, his background. I want…” Another longer pause. “I want him to like me.” The hollows around her eyes seemed to deepen and a trick of the light cast her face in dark shadow. “If I knew more about him, perhaps, his likes and dislikes, I could please him better after we are wed.”

Violet stared at Miss Harper, the room wavering until she could see nothing but the woman’s pinched face. A roaring in her ears, a lightness in her head told her she was about to swoon and she fought to take deep breaths, remain conscious even as her heart ripped in two. If she could crawl off somewhere and die she’d consider it a blessing. Anything rather than this wrenching pain that wracked her body and soul. Still she stared at the pink-tinged face, unable to move or speak.

“I would not presume to ask so personal a favor, Miss Carlton, on such slight acquaintance, but I have no one else to turn to.” Miss Harper sighed, smoothing out her skirts where her fingers had crushed the pretty fabric. “As I said, Lord Trevor has been very kind, but is often very remote.” She gave a high, nervous little laugh. “I’m not sure, but I suspect all men may be so. My father and brother certainly are, although they have never truly liked me.” Her head came up and she met Violet’s gaze beseechingly. “I didn’t want Lord Trevor to be like them.”

Violet stared back at Miss Harper, properly chastened. She’d known the love and respect of her brother, father, mother, grandmother. The remembrance of that love would always be with her, no matter her circumstances. She couldn’t fathom what it would be like not to have a brother to tease her, to play games with, to dry her tears. Jamie had done all that and more. Her father had doted on them both while he lived. Only happy memories of her childhood remained.

Miss Harper appeared to be a kind person who seemed genuinely fond of Anna and her sister-in-law. Why would her father and brother treat her so callously?

“Please don’t think me impertinent, Miss Carlton.” Abruptly, Miss Harper rose, wringing her hands. “I know we are barely acquainted and I would not ask such a favor except…” Her mouth trembled and tears glistened in her eyes. “Marriage is forever. I had hoped it might be a happy one, if I knew how to please my husband.”

Again the sinking feeling hit Violet, like an iron chain tied around her heart dragging her down into the depths of the earth. What the girl asked was impossible. How could she even speak about Tris without dissolving into tears? Misery wrapped its cold arms around her.

Miss Harper turned to go.

What would Tris want her to do? By his own admission, he felt nothing for Miss Harper, yet he was prepared to go ahead with the marriage to avoid hurting her. He would not break his vow, would not repeat his father’s mistake and take Violet as his mistress. If one of them had any chance at happiness, for love of him should she not abet it?

“Miss Harper.”

The girl stopped at the threshold and peered warily over her shoulder.