Chapter 16

Greyson scanned the guests at the ball in search of Violet. They hadn't spoken since the previous day when she'd stormed off after their argument. He'd had half a mind not to attend the ball, but his mother had convinced him to come, since he had been the one who had invited her.

The fact that she was still angry with him grated on his nerves, but they still had to keep up appearances. They were courting now, and people would talk if they didn't attend the ball together.

Spotting her across the room, he felt his anger ebbing as his breath caught in his chest.

She's stunning.

He took in her dark purple gown that brought out the violet in her eyes. Her long blonde hair had been pinned up in an elaborate style. He preferred it when she wore it in a braid down her back because it sparked his desire to run his fingers through the lengths.

Violet was talking to a woman he'd never seen before, huddled in a corner just like they had been at the previous ball.

Squaring his shoulders, he set out to go to her when his path was blocked by a tall redhead he hadn't noticed.

"Greyson, you have been a very naughty man these past few weeks. When were you planning on paying me a visit?" She ran a slender finger down his chest and smiled seductively at him.

"Helena, my apologies, I didn't see you there." He smiled politely and glanced over her shoulder at Violet, who was still deep in conversation with her friend.

The pretty young woman cocked an eyebrow as she followed his gaze. She was slim and petite, with thin lips and an aristocratic nose. "You've been very distracted these days. I'm starting to wonder if I should be jealous?" she drawled as she her hand to her side.

Violet glanced in their direction, and Greyson felt his blood turning to ice at the cold stare he received. Helena had been one of the women he'd dallied with before Violet had come into his life, but he hadn't seen her since the start of their courtship. He instinctively knew that she'd think otherwise if he didn't put a stop to it soon.

"I have been quite busy." He tensed a little and stepped away from Helena, hoping to create some distance between them.

She cocked an eyebrow, her lips slightly parted. It seemed as if she were about to say something when Stuart showed up at her side and intervened. For once; Greyson was thankful for his friend's meddlesome ways.

"There you are, Greyson. Violet has been looking everywhere for you. Shouldn't you be getting back to her?" Stuart gave him a pointed look that spoke volumes.

"Violet, is it?" Helena held Greyson's gaze.

"I don't think we have had the pleasure of meeting, Miss…?" Stuart turned to Helena and offered a warm smile.

Greyson knew that Helena wasn't a fool. She would know that Stuart was interfering, and the mere fact that he hadn't flirted with her straight off the bat was telling enough.

"Miss Helena Stafford. I was just on my way." She turned to Greyson without waiting for Stuart to introduce himself. "She must be quite a woman to have made you change your ways. I wish you well, My Lord." She curtsied and met his gaze, before sauntering off in the opposite direction.

Stuart turned to him, his lips pursed in disapproval.

"Don't even start. I used to see her before Violet came along. I have been faithful to our agreement since the start, and knowing Helena, she won't be coming around again. She doesn't relish the thought of sharing." Greyson's gaze darted to Helena, who was flirting with a baron.

"I'm not the one you need to be explaining things to," Stuart said gently and then walked off, leaving Greyson to stare at Violet, who was furiously whispering to her friend.

Her friend had thick brown hair that hung down her back with many ribbons and bright green eyes. The sour glares he was getting let him know that they had seen the interaction and thought the worst.

That's all I need now.

He swore under his breath and walked over to them to clear things up.

"Violet, you look lovely this evening," he said stiffly and then smiled at her friend.

"My Lord," Violet greeted just as stiffly.

"Lady Oakhampton," her friend said. The scornful look in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by Greyson.

Stealing himself against their judgment, he acted cordially. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Oakhampton. I can't say that I have had the pleasure of meeting your husband, but I am sure that it won't be long. I presume you are one of Violet's friends?"

He looked at Violet in the hopes that she would join the conversation, but she averted her gaze.

"I am one of her friends, My Lord. Tell me, will you be introducing us to your red-haired friend soon?" Lady Oakhampton's green eyes flashed with anger as she stared him down.

He didn't know who this woman thought she was, and he couldn't even understand why she was taking Violet's side. She seemed to care a great deal for her friend, but Greyson wasn't about to let her push him around.

"I think you mean my former friend, Lady Oakhampton. And I will thank you not to make any assumptions on matters that do not concern you," he growled, losing his cool for just a moment. The menacing glare he gave made her cower a little.

Violet looked at him but failed to hide the hurt flickering in her eyes. "And I will thank you not to snap at my friend, My Lord. She was merely enquiring, or do you find all questions abhorrent?" She jutted her chin defiantly.

Lady Oakhampton looked up when a tall man placed his hand protectively on her shoulder and glared at Greyson. He was a muscular man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that were conveying a warning.

"Jason Meyer, the Marquess of Oakhampton," he said in a thin voice that was laced with irritation. A thin line of scars ran from the bottom of his ear and down his neck. Some of them reached as far as his cheek in spindly rows, as if he had been grazed by a bullet.

Greyson sized the man up, respecting the fact that he was coming to his wife's aid. He had seen wounds like that before on men who had survived the war. It made him wonder what the man's story was, but he didn't have time to concern himself with that.

He introduced himself before turning to Violet. "Violet, may I please speak with you alone?" His tone forced her to look up at him.

"I don't think that's necessary, My Lord. Speaking alone never seems to work out for either of us." The hurt in her voice was evident as she glowered at him.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings yesterday, and I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression earlier. If you would just give me a moment to explain."

Irritation grew in his chest. He hated airing his dirty laundry in public, but Violet was leaving him no choice as she stuck to her guns.

Their conversation was interrupted as a young man who couldn't have been more than twenty said to Violet, "Lady Violet, forgive me for the intrusion, but I believe my mother knows your mother. My name is Jasper Hawkins. I would be delighted if you'd grant me the honor of a dance. That is if you aren't already engaged?" He glanced around questioningly at the small group.

The boy was slightly shorter than Greyson, with jet-black hair and brown eyes. His handsome, clean-cut features seemed boyish in the bright lighting of the ballroom. He was the kind of young man that Greyson would have teased at Whites if he showed up with his polite manners.

Greyson was about to step in and say that she was already spoken for when Violet spoke up with a fake smile that he recognized instantly.

"I would be delighted, My Lord. You can regale me with the story of how our mothers know each other." She placed her hand on Jasper's and allowed him to lead her away, but not before glancing at Greyson. "I will consider your apology, My Lord." Her eyes lingered on his for a moment, before she looked away.

Watching them go, Greyson felt his rage growing.

The way she had spoken to the young man had set his teeth on edge. He wanted to punch him and throw her over his shoulder if that's what it took to whisk her away.

He was about to go after her when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Lady Oakhampton held him back before retreating to her husband's side once again. "I know you don't know us, My Lord, but please listen to what we have to say. I've known Violet for a very long time. Going after her now will only make things worse."

"What do you suggest, then?" he snapped, but toned it down when her husband glared at him. "I apologize, Lady Oakhampton. What would you suggest?"

"First, you have to stop snapping at everyone, especially Violet. If you want to get her to listen to whatever you have to say, plan for a meeting where the two of you can be alone and spend real quality time together," she spoke softly with less resentment.

Greyson couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't secretly hoping that he and Violet would work out.

Looking over his shoulder, he observed the way the young man was holding Violet's waist. She seemed to be enjoying his banter, yet she kept glancing in Greyson's direction. He wanted to knock the man down, but he realized that Lady Oakhampton was making sense. He needed a way to explain things to Violet before anything else.

"Thank you, Lady Oakhampton. I will consider your suggestion. I did not mean to come across as rude," he answered stiffly, suppressing a sigh.

Why were things so complicated ever since Violet had come into his life? He'd never had any of these issues when he lived the life of a carefree bachelor.

"For what it's worth, I think you've had a bigger impact on Violet than even she realizes." Lady Oakhampton glanced over his shoulder at her friend before pursing her lips and wandering off.

Greyson was about to do the same when Lord Oakhampton cleared his throat and took a step forward. "I will forgive you this once for snapping at my wife. Believe it or not, I am sympathetic to your plight. Lady Oakhampton and I were once where you and Violet are now. But should you ever disrespect my wife again, I won't be so forgiving."

The men locked gazes, and Greyson recognized the protective stance of a man who loved his wife. He hadn't seen it very often, but the sheer look of love when the Marquess looked at his wife was unmistakable.

Perhaps the man was fooling himself, or perhaps he had genuinely found the real thing. Greyson could recognize when he was in the wrong, and he instantly garnered a healthy respect for the man who seemed to have experienced a great deal in life.

"Consider your warning heard. I did not mean to disrespect Lady Oakhampton," Greyson said more respectfully.

The Marquess nodded and began to walk past him, but then he stopped and offered a smile that transformed his face entirely. "I don't profess to know a great deal about these things, but I have come to learn that the way to a woman's heart often has a lot to do with food."

He sauntered off after his wife, leaving Greyson to think things over.

The music had come to an end, and Violet had found her way back to her friend's side, who hovered near her like a mother hen. He wanted her to forgive him. Whatever may come out of their arrangement, Greyson wanted her in his life. He hated admitting the fact to himself, but he had grown fond of her company during the brief time they had spent together. She was a lady unlike any other.

His heart stuttered for a second when the thought of their arrangement coming to an end without the hopes of a friendship came to mind.

I have to fix things.

* * *

Violet awoke to find her maid standing in her room with a silver tray before she ventured to open the drapes. She had tried her best to take her mind off Greyson, but that hadn't stopped her from dreaming of him after the ball. She had awoken in the middle of the night hot and flushed.

Greyson had been there in her room, his bare chest exposed in the moonlight as he'd cast his shirt aside. He'd kissed her then, but it hadn't stopped there. He had caressed her body in ways that still made her shiver. He had kissed her breasts, removed her night dress, and trailed his fingers up her thighs.

She may have been mad at him, but that didn't seem to have tempered the flames of her desire.

"There is a note here for you, My Lady." The mousy-haired girl came forward and placed the note beside her bed. "The man who delivered it was most insistent that you read it as soon as possible, so I will just place it here for when you are ready." She offered a friendly smile before curtsying and leaving the room.

Stretching her arms above her head, Violet wondered if Greyson was up to another one of his tricks. Her heart beat a little faster as hope sparked in her chest.

Dear Violet,

I wish to invite you to dinner at my lodgings this evening along with my mother and Lord Arlington. If you are agreeable, I will send a carriage to fetch you this evening around six o'clock. You do not have to concern yourself with a chaperone. My valet is most discreet and will ensure your safety when bringing you to my lodgings.

Ps. He works for my mother, so he will not hesitate to let her know if anything untoward happens.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Montclair.

A tiny, pressed flower slipped out of the folds of paper and landed on her lap. Violet lifted the purple petals in her fingers and smiled. He was trying to make amends again.

Is this his way of apologizing?

Her chest rose and fell with anticipation. Would he kiss her again if the moment arose?