Chapter 15

The cool waves gently rippled beneath her fingers as she stared at her broken reflection on the surface of the water. The sun shone down on them as Greyson pulled his muscular arms back and forth to steer the boat in the right direction. The way he'd rolled his sleeves up to reveal his perfectly sculpted muscles did little to quell the flames of desire in the pit of her stomach.

Her white parasol, which matched her dress, was leisurely slung over her shoulder in an attempt to keep the sun from marking her fair skin. The day had been pleasant enough, with the Dowager Countess and Stuart making enough jokes to provide a distraction for them all. Violet had panicked a little when the Dowager Countess had suggested they split into groups of two, with Stuart accompanying her. She glanced over her shoulder to see that the others were quite a distance behind them now.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Greyson asked casually, his muscular arms effortlessly moving the oars through the water.

"They are worth a great deal more than that, thank you very much." She smirked at him and turned back toward him.

Was he watching me while he rowed?

She felt herself blushing again and chalked it up to the heat of the sun.

Greyson smiled at her as a flock of ducks flew overhead. "You know, I've been wondering about something, and I hope you don't think me too impertinent to ask. Why is it that a young woman as beautiful, elegant, graceful, and witty as you are doesn't want to get married?"

The slew of compliments he had offered her only worsened her blush. She could have told him that she simply didn't want to be tied down like so many other women who regretted their marriages. Yet, the sincerity in his eyes drew her in.

Taking a deep breath, she allowed her shoulders to relax with the gentle lapping of the water against the side of the boat.

"I was in love once—very much so, actually. Things didn't end very well for me."

She looked away and swallowed hard as memories of that time came flooding back. She had pushed her past so far behind her that it hurt at times to dredge it back up.

"Go on, if you are comfortable sharing? I don't want to force you to say anything you don't want to." The gentleness and understanding in his voice made her look back at him.

"I was seventeen when I met a young man. He was wealthy, handsome, and charming. He courted me for a while, and I thought I was in love. He promised me the moon and the stars while saying that we'd get married someday."

Her heart clenched at the memory of all the promises he had made. She had believed him when he'd flirted with her, and even when he said that he was falling in love with her. She hated herself now for believing any of it.

Greyson sat quietly, rowing as he listened to her story without voicing his opinion.

"Of course, my mother was overjoyed. She got married at eighteen and thought that I would follow in her footsteps. She was mortified when everything ended and realized that I wasn't going to consider anyone else."

Her throat felt dry as she fought the raging emotions in her chest.

"How did it end?" Geryon's voice was quiet and sympathetic, yet it didn't seem as if he were pitying her at all. His eyes were filled with compassion and possibly just a hint of curiosity.

Her palms began to sweat as she clutched the bamboo handle of her parasol a little tighter. "He accompanied me to a ball one evening and asked if I would speak with him alone for a moment. Foolishly, I accepted, thinking that was the night he would be proposing to me. Instead, he informed me that none of it had been true and that he had only been telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. He had met someone else and had decided to pursue her. I was in the way of his grand plans."

Greyson bit his cheek thoughtfully before replying, "Well, if you ask me, he sounds like a real wanker."

Violet gasped at his vulgar and abrupt cussing. Heat spread across her cheeks like wildfire.

"Forgive me for being so vulgar in your presence, but if you ask me, he did you a favor by leaving. He could have been a little more chivalrous in how he ended things, but can you imagine being married to someone and then only realizing that nothing was real? It's better that he ended things before then." His words were comforting to her despite their abruptness.

She relaxed a little again and loosened her grip on the handle. "I suppose he did do me a favor. I saw him the following year, and his wife seemed utterly miserable."

"There you have it. You could have been Miss Miserable Guts if he hadn't acted like a bastard. Look on the bright side. You are currently, and very inconspicuously, pretending to date one of the most sought-after bachelors of the ton. You got the better deal, no matter how you slice it," he teased with a wink and shot her a charming smile.

"Now that I told you why and how I learned that love is nothing but a farce to ensnare simpletons, why do you abhor affection and commitment?" She turned the question around on him.

"I didn't need anyone to break my heart for me to learn that love is utter bollocks. We, men, are built differently, you see. We know that it's all for show. The difference between me and the coward who broke your heart is that I am always upfront about my intentions. The women I spend my time with know that it's all for fun and nothing will come out of it. If they do not wish to simply have a fling, then I don't spend any time with them."

The casual manner in which he spoke of his exploits made her squirm in her seat.

Deep down, she had known that he courted many women for fun—he was, after all, a rake. Yet, everything she was learning about him stood in stark contrast to his true character.

"That is an utterly pathetic attempt at rowing! You won't even make it to the shore before nightfall!" Stuart shouted from their boat, which was at least a whole league in front of theirs.

Violet had gotten so caught up in the conversation that she'd completely forgotten about the Dowager Countess and Stuart. She wasn't ready for the day to end yet, not when she still wanted to ask Greyson more about his life. She didn't buy even for a second that he was a rake simply because he was an honest man.

"You can race ahead if you like, but you know the fun won't start without me!" Greyson shouted back and continued to row at the same leisurely pace he'd been going at all along.

Violet then decided to broach the subject she had been wondering about since the night of the dinner. "What about your father? Surely, he wasn't a rake? He did marry your mother, after all."

Greyson's demeanor suddenly changed as his eyes grew darker and his movements stiffened. "My mother made a decision never to marry again, that should tell you that your theory about marriage was correct." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and fixed his gaze on her shoulder.

"Is that why you don't believe in love? Because of your parents' marriage?"

Violet felt as if she were finally getting a better understanding of his behavior. No one was against love simply because they wanted to spend their life flitting from one casual encounter to another.

"I don't believe in love because I choose not to. There are many people out there who believe in the institution of marriage and make it work," he said stiffly and clenched his jaw.

"How did your father pass away?" she ventured, hoping that he'd open up to her, as she had opened up to him.

"From an illness. Would you care to know any other private family matters?" he snapped, his eyes filled with rage.

Violet was taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. "I wasn't prying, I simply asked a personal question, as you did with me. Or are you the only one who is at liberty to ask questions?" she shot back, standing her ground.

His reaction had hurt her feelings, but she wasn't about to let him know that.

"I asked the question, but I didn't force you to answer. You were fully within your rights to say that you didn't wish to share. Why are you judging me for exercising my own right to privacy?"

The boat rocked from side to side as he thrust the oars into the water with force, causing drops to splash into the boat. The question about his father had obviously hit a nerve, but that didn't justify the way he was speaking to her—not by Violet's reckoning in any case.

"You could have also declined instead of snapping at me." She raised her voice to match his tone.

The argument was becoming progressively heated as they neared the shore, and several people had even stopped walking or rowing to observe the scene.

"I did try and steer the conversation in a different direction, but you were the one who kept asking. You might want to learn how to read the room instead of pressing people beyond what they are willing to share!" Greyson growled.

The boat wobbled violently from side to side and threatened to topple over as Violet stood up and balled her fists at her sides, not caring or even considering the fact that she would make them sink.

"Sit down, for heaven's sake! You will make both of us fall into the water!" He attempted to reach for her just as the boat bumped against the shore.

"Then we shall have to get wet, won't we, Mr. Asks A Lot But Can't Reciprocate!" Violet yelled at the top of her lungs before realizing that they had garnered an audience.

Seeing the shocked expression on his face that barely concealed the seething anger in his eyes, Violet turned to see the people staring at them from the bank.

The Dowager Countess looked at them with her eyebrows raised, while Stuart didn't seem surprised at all. He seemed to be enjoying the spectacle. Passersby whispered to one another before uncomfortably moving along.

"Just what do you think you are doing now?" Greyson demanded as Violet hiked up her skirt and placed one foot on the grass.

"What does it look like? I'm leaving!" she hissed.

"At least let me help you out of the boat." He shook his head at her stubbornness.

Having had enough of their argument, and feeling the sting of everyone's stares, Violet ignored him. "No, thank you, I can help myself."

She teetered as the boat rocked and almost fell into the water as she attempted to hop onto the grass.

Stuart almost came forward to help her but stopped in his tracks when the Dowager Countess placed a hand on his arm and held him back. She shook her head lightly and looked back at Greyson and Violet.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?!" Greyson growled, coming to his feet once the boat's rocking motions stopped.

Violet braced herself and did a tiny hop, flailing her arms like a bird for stability when she landed firmly on her feet. She rounded on him. "Well, that's a case of the pot calling the kettle black now, isn't it, My Lord!" she huffed, before thrusting her nose in the air and stomping off.

Both the Dowager Countess and Stuart turned their faces away as they attempted to hide their laughter.

"And just how do you think you will get home on your own?! I brought you here in my carriage!" Greyson yelled after her as she left him behind.

"Again with your questions! Perhaps if you cared to answer any of mine, I'd answer you!" Violet picked up the pace and stormed away from him, steam practically coming out of her ears.

She was so angry that she wished she'd brought her needlework along with her just so that she'd have something to stab. Who did he think he was, asking her personal questions but then getting angry when she did the same? It would take more than just a few wildflowers that matched her eyes if he wanted to apologize this time.

Stuart caught up to her just as she reached the other end of the park. She was out of breath and sorely in need of water as she stopped to ease the burning sensation in her chest.

"I've been sent as an emissary of peace," he intoned.

"Well, you can tell Greyson that sending someone to apologize on his behalf won't work!" She straightened a little too quickly and felt the effects of her anger. Her vision burst into hundreds of little white stars.

"It was Lady Montclair who sent me, not Greyson. He's halfway across the lake by now, I suspect." Stuart glanced over his shoulder at a figure in a boat that was rowing across the lake.

"Good, then. I hope he finds someone who won't ask him any questions on the other side of the lake," she huffed, feeling her anger subside the further Greyson rowed across the lake.

Stifling a chuckle, Stuart shook his head. "Lady Montclair wishes that you take the carriage back home. The driver will come back for us once you are safely at home," he explained with no judgment in his voice.

"If she's sure? I didn't mean to cause any inconvenience." Violet glanced over Stuart's shoulder at the Dowager Countess, who had returned to her spot on the blanket beneath a tree.

"We will have to wait until Greyson comes back anyway. So, please take the carriage. There is no use in storming across London over a tiff with Greyson." Stuart failed to conceal his chuckle this time.

"He's so infuriating!" Violet couldn't help but release the anger she felt, still glaring at Greyson's retreating figure.

Why do I allow him to affect me like this?

"Yet, you come back no matter how many times he makes you angry." Stuart gave her a knowing look. "Just something to think about," he said with a strange smile, before turning and walking off.

She wondered why she felt such an inexplicable urge to be in Greyson's presence despite the fact that they always seemed to argue. No matter how angry she got with his stubbornness and inability to apologize, she inevitably melted the second he teased her.

There was something about his charming smile that warmed her heart no matter what their disagreement was about.