Chapter 12

Violet sat beside Greyson, with his mother to her left at the head of the table. Stuart sat across from her to the left of Lady Montclair. The atmosphere was a little tense, with Stuart constantly mocking Greyson about some joke that Lady Montclair seemed to be in on.

The room was large and impressive, with a long, wooden table that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Hundreds of candles flickered in the chandelier above their heads, casting shadows on the many portraits lining the walls. The only family portrait that Violet could see was a painting of the Dowager Countess and a much younger Greyson that hung over the fireplace.

No one had spoken a word about the late Earl, and Violet wondered if it would be rude of her to ask, if the occasion arose.

She enjoyed the light-hearted teasing, even though she suspected that she was very much part of it. Stuart seemed to focus on the fact that Greyson was officially courting a woman instead of having a fling.

"Tell us, Violet, how did you and Greyson meet? He is yet to regale me with the riveting tale." Stuart smiled mischievously at her over the rim of his glass.

"Oh, has he not told you yet? They met with the help of Miss Marie Webster," Lady Montclair replied, before placing a bite of chicken in her mouth.

Stuart choked on his sip of champagne, splattering the liquid everywhere. A footman rushed forward with a cloth to clean up the mess as Stuart caught his breath, wiping droplets off his dinner jacket.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to be so clumsy, it went down the wrong pipe." His face turned red.

Violet could feel Greyson tensing beside her as he put down his knife and fork, swallowing the last bite of vegetables like a lump in his throat.

"I'm surprised that you haven't told Stuart yet, you two usually tell each other everything." Lady Montclair handed her glass of champagne to the butler and accepted a new one after inspecting the droplets on the table.

Greyson took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. "I haven't had the pleasure of filling him in yet, since I have been a little busy making all the arrangements," he spoke stiffly, shooting his friend a pointed glare.

Violet wondered if Greyson would tell him the truth. In her opinion, telling his friend the truth would more than likely result in even more teasing.

"Violet, why don't you tell us the story of how you met?" Stuart shifted his focus to her, ignoring Greyson's glares.

She tried to read the room and decided to go with a version that was as close to the truth as possible. She'd once read in a book that the key to a good lie was making up story that very closely resembled the truth, with only a few details changed.

"Well, I was set up on a blind date by Marie Webster and my mother. When I arrived at the café, it became glaringly obvious to me that Greyson had no idea that he was on a date. In fact, the very first words he ever said to me were ‘You are not my mother.'" She smiled at Greyson before taking a sip of her champagne.

"I had to trick him into going to the café. You know how he can be." Christina smiled at Stuart, pleased with the success of her plan.

"Of course." Stuart nodded conspiratorially.

"As you can imagine, the date didn't go as planned, so much so that I was surprised when Greyson suddenly showed up unannounced at my next date." Violet pursed her lips in amusement as Greyson focused his attention on her.

The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, I couldn't very well leave you when I realized I was mesmerized by you." He then leaned over the table and whispered to Stuart and his mother, "She had been utterly crushed when I turned her down on the first date."

"I believe you were the one who said I was charming, My Lord." Violet stressed his title, knowing full well that it would challenge him.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed as Stuart and Lady Montclair observed their interaction. Violet was aware of their presence, but she quickly focused her attention on the verbal spar between her and Greyson. Whoever spoke first left the other at their mercy, having to go along with whatever version of the truth was told.

"That was only because I didn't want you to feel embarrassed by how obvious your attraction to me was, Violet." The way he enunciated her name almost made her giggle. His eyes shone mischievously as he looked at her.

The sudden sensation of fingers caressing her knee caught her off guard. A shiver of pleasure ran up her thigh despite his mother and his friend's presence.

Is he flirting with me?

She held his gaze and resisted the urge to glance at his hand beneath the table. He was getting more daring the longer she looked at him, trailing his fingers up the side of her thigh. His smile dared her to pull away or even argue with him.

"You did, after all, dismiss your date once I arrived, did you not?" He raised an eyebrow pointedly as his hand rested on her thigh. The warmth of his fingers seeped through her dress and into her skin.

How he managed to move so subtly that neither his mother nor his friend seemed to notice anything at all was a mystery to Violet.

"I couldn't exactly throw you out of the café with my bare hands, now, could I, My Lord?" Her voice dropped a little as she noticed the way his eyes kept flicking to her lips.

They had started a dangerous game that could potentially lead to trouble down the road.

Violet was grateful for the cover of the table and the dim light of the candles. The blush on her cheeks as he gave her thigh a gentle squeeze would have only been too obvious in a different setting.

"Would you have rather I left you to Lord Floppy Bottoms' stories?" His lips parted a little as he looked her in the eye and slowly moved his hand over her knee, taking his time to rub the fabric against her skin.

Following his lead, she sat back in her chair and placed her hands in her lap, gently caressing his knuckles with her fingers. The pleasure that flickered in his eyes stoked her desire, making her wish that they had been alone. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again as his hands moved up her waist, caressing the underside of her breasts with his thumbs.

Greyson almost seemed as if he wanted to lean in as his fingers intertwined with hers. Her skin grew hotter, causing a shiver to run down her spine and culminate in her core.

"Your second date was with Lord Floppy Bottoms?" Stuart suddenly interrupted the moment.

They both snapped out of the moment, bringing their hands back to their plates.

"Who is Lord Flibbity Bits?" The Dowager Countess looked from Greyson to Stuart with a frown, causing Violet to suppress her laughter.

Somehow, Lord Flibbity Bits seemed to suit Lord Willford more than Lord Floppy Bottoms.

"It's Lord Floppy Bottoms, Mama, and he is Lord Willford," Greyson corrected his mother with a smile. "He wanted to make Violet Queen of the Highlands."

The Dowager Countess looked at Violet with a bemused smirk. "Lord Willford… isn't he old enough to be your father?"

"He is a bit older than me, yes." Violet tried to contain the laughter that was threatening to bubble over by sipping on her champagne.

"A bit. He's old enough to have you sit on his knee while he offers you a sweet," Stuart scoffed.

It was Greyson's turn to laugh as he leaned back in his chair. His laughter was deep and provocative to Violet, almost sensual in a way that made his Adam's apple bob up and down.

"You know, he propositioned me to be your stepfather," Christina admitted guiltily, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I told him that you wouldn't have been comfortable with calling him Papa."

It was Violet's turn to choke on her champagne.

Stuart and the Dowager Countess both burst into raucous laughter.

"I most certainly would not have been comfortable with calling him Papa!" Greyson grumbled.

His grumpy response only made them laugh harder. Even Violet couldn't help herself.

She hadn't thought of Lord Willford as being particularly old, but now that they mentioned it, it would have been rather odd to be with someone as old as her father. Young women married older men all the time in the ton, especially when they were extremely wealthy. Yet, Violet couldn't see herself as an old man's darling if she ever had to be forced into marriage.

The Dowager Countess stood up and gave Violet a warm smile. "Well, now that we have all had a good laugh, I think it's time we left the table. I know we are a small party, but I think we should still split up. It will give me a chance to get to know Violet a little better."

Violet was flattered that Lady Montclair felt comfortable enough with her to use her given name. There was a friendly atmosphere in the group that tugged at her heart.

This will all have to come to an end, sooner or later.

* * *

The cool evening air kissed her skin as she and the Dowager Countess stepped out onto the balcony. The men had retired to the billiards room for a glass of port, leaving them to get to know one another a little better.

"You know, you could have knocked me over with a feather when Greyson came home and announced that he'd be courting someone. Of course, it came as a surprise, but I am overjoyed that he's found someone who can keep up with his wit and banter." Lady Montclair's lips curled into a tired smile as she stood beside Violet on the balcony overlooking the estate, which was now shrouded in darkness.

She was the picture of elegance and grace, but Violet couldn't help but notice the tiredness in her eyes. She felt drawn to the older woman, as if she were her own mother.

Lady Montclair turned to her with the same tired smile on her lips. "You make a charming couple. I hope he sees your worth."

Was she putting on an act in front of the men?

Violet examined the fine lines around the woman's eyes and mouth that were even more prominent in the moonlight.

"Thank you, Lady Montclair." Violet accepted the compliment with a heavy heart, knowing that they were lying to such a sweet woman. She wished that Greyson had come into her life under different circumstances. Perhaps then they could have been something more.

The thought startled her. When had she begun to think of Greyson as someone who could be in her life as more than just a friend or ally?

"Please, call me Christina, or perhaps someday even Mama if your mother would allow it. I'm sorry if I seemed forward by not asking your permission to call you Violet, but you just fit in so well with our little group that it felt natural." Christina's eyes shone with admiration and an open honesty.

"Not at all, I am flattered that you felt comfortable enough to use my given name. As for my mother, I think she might swoon with pride when she hears what a warm welcome I have received. In fact, she might just be in love with Greyson, with the way she carried on as if he hung the stars." Violet shook her head, a bemused smile on her face.

"I'm glad if your mother can see how good Greyson truly is. He can come across as a flirt most of the time, but beneath his pretenses lurks the heart of a true gentleman. He's been my rock for as long as I can remember." Christina seemed a little sad as she turned to lean her weight on the balustrade.

Sensing that the moment was right, Violet asked, "Forgive my asking, but how did the late Earl pass away? Greyson has never uttered so much as a single word about his father."

She knew in her heart that they hadn't spent enough time together for him to have brought up his father, but she still needed to make it seem as if their courtship was genuine.

An even sadder smile spread across Christina's face as she held Violet's gaze. "I think that's a question you'd better ask Greyson. He's come a long way since then—we both have. I can't speak for him and how he feels about his father now. We've lived without him for so long."

The way she spoke of her dead husband made Violet regret asking the question. The loss had obviously caused them a great deal of pain.

This is wrong.

The words radiated throughout her body. What they were doing was more than just a simple agreement between the two of them. They were lying to people who truly cared for them. Her parents, his mother, and even Stuart with his teasing.

"You know, I think there was a reason that you came into Greyson's life, even if neither of you can see it right now." Christina winked at Violet before gently squeezing her arm and walking away.

Her words shocked Violet as she turned to watch her walk away. The night breeze ruffled Christina's long white dress as she rounded the corner.

Had Violet let something slip that gave them away? She racked her brain for an answer, going over the evening's events.

She liked Greyson's family and even hoped that his mother would forgive her and welcome her as a friend when things came to an end.

Do I want them to come to an end?

She thought of their banter and even the feel of his fingers trailing up her thigh. Violet liked him, liked his company and the way he made her feel. She heaved a confused sigh as she turned to the balustrade and looked out over the darkness. The pitch black reminded her of how she felt inside—confused, lost, and even a little sad.

She'd made up her mind a long time ago never to let herself believe in love. Not after what she'd gone through. She'd only been seventeen, but her heart had been broken beyond repair. She felt more mature and worldly now at nineteen, as if she understood the cruel realities of life.

Love doesn't exist.

It was just a cruel lie that sucked someone in and spat them out when everything reached its ugly, inevitable end.

"Violet, are you coming?" Christina's sweet voice called to her from inside the manor, adding to the guilt that was churning in her chest.

She wasn't deserving of the sweet familiarity that came with those words.