Chapter Eleven An Aunt’s Advice and Counsel

Meanwhile, just outside the Fenwick House dining room

Violet listened intently to the conversation taking place between her father and brother, not at all surprised to hear her father's confession. The two had talked at length about how duty and devotion sometimes clashed with one another.

That her father and brother had devised a four-pronged plan that didn't include her wasn't the least bit surprising, but she couldn't help but feel left out.

Neither one knew she had deliberately spent time with Weston the night before, attempting to curry favor with the young duke. She had mentioned to Weston she would be riding in the park on the morrow. If he actually showed up to join her, she would tolerate his presence as best she could. Pretend an interest in him. Compliment him on his riding skills. Do whatever she must to gain his trust.

Play him.

She was halfway up the stairs and on her way to the parlor when a commotion at the front door had her turning around.

Aunt Katherine had arrived.

Violet quickly descended the stairs. "Aunt Katherine, so good of you to have come into the house," she said, dipping a quick curtsy. "I would have met you out in the coach if I'd known it had arrived."

"Why, I had every intention of coming in," the older woman claimed, handing her mantle to Browning before removing her gloves. "He's here, is he not?"

Grinning, Violet waved a hand toward the dining room. "He is," she acknowledged. "He'll be happy to see you."

The sound of their voices had Katherine's nephew and grand nephew joining them in the hall.

"Aunt Katherine," Michael said, pulling her into an embrace. "Time away from your husband obviously agrees with you," he added, referring to Thomas, Duke of Pendleton.

She slapped his arm. "I actually miss the old coot, I'll have you know. He keeps me warm at night when the fire goes out."

Both Violet and Philip struggled to hide their grins of embarrassment, but Michael didn't bother. "I'm happy for you both. He feels terribly blessed to have had you as his duchess these past few decades." He grinned at seeing one of her eyebrows arched in a scold at the mention of how much time had passed since her second marriage had begun. "Is he coming to London for any of the Season?"

Katherine shrugged. "Possibly. He's in Bath at the moment. Hosting some event or the other," she replied as Michael stepped back to regard her with a grin.

"Isn't he eighty years old?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"He's nine-and-seventy, and he doesn't look a day over sixty," Katherine replied on a huff. "Now, how is it you still look the same after so many years?" she asked in disbelief. She raised a hand to the side of Michael's face and angled hers first to one side and then to the other.

"Country living, Kate. It looks as if it's done the same wonders for you."

She acknowledged his comment with a grin. "I like life in Wiltshire," she agreed. "But it's nice to be in London once in a while. My boys are here—"

"As are the grandchildren?" he guessed.

"Indeed. And your children. Violet's been the perfect young lady. No trouble at all with her come-out," she said, giving Violet a nod. "This one...," she indicated Philip with a wave of her hand, "Could have his choice of any young lady in the ton and be married on the morrow if he wished."

Michael scoffed softly. "Given he'll be paying a call on a certain young lady's brother on the morrow..." He paused. "Let's hope your words are true."

Katherine's eyes widened. She turned her attention on Philip and sobered. "So... it's to be Lady Amelia, is it?" she guessed.

Philip's expression faltered. "Yes. How... how did you know?"

She gave him a quelling glance. "I might be old, but I'm not blind, young man."

For a moment, Philip displayed an expression of guilt. "I was sure we were discreet," he claimed.

She shrugged. "Well, it's not as if I've heard you were playing house clandestinely," she replied. Her eyes suddenly rounded. "Were you?"

Violet tittered, quickly raising a hand to cover her mouth when Katherine directed her gaze on her.

"Out with it, young lady."

"I cannot say, Aunt Katherine. I promised Amelia."

"Oh, you're no fun," Katherine teased. She turned to Michael. "I'm taking Violet to a card party. There won't be gambling at this one, of course."

"Well, I should hope not," he replied in alarm.

"And I won't keep her out beyond... oh, let's say one o'clock—?"

"In the morning?" Michael finished, his voice rising. "Isn't that terribly late?"

"Well, it's early for a card party, actually." At seeing his expression didn't change, she said, "You're back in the city, Fenwick." When he still didn't capitulate, she said, "Oh, then midnight, if you insist. Come, Violet. Let's let these two drink their brandy and play a game of billiards."

"Yes, Aunt Katherine." Violet hurried to the vestibule to allow Browning to help her with her redingote while Katherine pulled on her gloves.

"I want a report just as soon as you've secured Weston's permission to court Lady Amelia," Katherine stated, her gaze squarely on her nephew.

"Yes, Aunt Katherine," Philip replied.

Once Violet and Katherine had left Fenwick House, Michael turned to regard his son with a grin. "It seems we have yet another among our numbers," he said, arching a brow.

Philip nodded. "If I didn't dislike him so intensely, I might almost feel sorry for Weston. He's about to be played, I think."

Michael chuckled as the two made their way to the study for another glass of brandy.