Chapter 3

Violet sighed as she tapped her fingers on the café table. Lord Willford was on what seemed like his hundredth retelling of some fishing trip. She had hoped that her mother would back off once she told her how awful the Earl had been, but it seemed as if her mother and the matchmaker had an endless list of potential suitors.

"That is when I said to him that it is not up to me, but if he wished to label me as the best Salmon fisherman in all of Scotland, then that is his right to do so." Lord Willford shook his head and laughed, completely oblivious to the fact that Violet was bored out of her mind.

How a man with thinning blonde hair, average features, and a wiry frame thought of himself in such a pompous manner was beyond her. The dainty way he placed one leg over the other and angled his body to the side made her think of a beloved elderly uncle rather than a man she had to marry.

"Hmmm." She nodded a reply with a faint smile when he asked her a question about fishing.

The fact that Lord Willford didn't seem to mind her responses only proved to her that he wasn't paying attention. He could have been sitting at the table on his own, and the conversation would have proceeded just the same.

Violet breathed a sigh of relief when one of the waitresses in a black dress and white apron approached the table.

"Forgive me, My Lord, My Lady." The waitress curtsied respectfully while making her presence known. Her mousy features and light brown hair were a welcome distraction.

"What is it, girl?" Lord Willford cocked his head arrogantly and glared at her. Having his thrilling stories interrupted obviously wasn't something he enjoyed.

Violet pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her amusementdisdain. At least her thoughts were entertaining.

"A note was just delivered for you, My Lord." The girl curtsied respectfully and handed Lord Willford a note, before scurrying off.

Lucky duck.

Violet heaved a sigh.

Lord Willford's plain brown eyes scanned the note, and he nodded once. "You must forgive me, Lady Violet. I have been summoned to a very important meeting. Men like me are always expected to make themselves available."

He tucked the note back into his breast pocket and sniffed arrogantly.

Thank goodness.

She felt a wave of relief flood through her. Finally, their rendezvous would be over, and she could tell her mother that it was a failure. She needed a man to go along with her plan, but it wouldn't help her much if she died of boredom in the process.

"I'm sure you won't mind waiting here until I return. I can't imagine there would be anything else keeping you," Lord Willford stated in a presumptuous manner that made her want to fling a scone at his head.

Her mother's words came to mind just as she was about to stand up.

If you do not spend at least a few good hours with this match, then I will personally remove all of your books from your chambers and lock the study.

"I shall patiently be anticipating your return." She plastered on a smile and watched him hurry out of the café.

Honestly, even the arrogant Earl had been better than him. Her mind drifted to his handsome features and the alluring dimples that popped when he smiled. He'd made her stomach coil in a delicious manner that made it all the more pity that he'd been an arse—in her opinion.

"Lord Willford is quite the pompous donkey, isn't he?" Greyson chuckled, sliding into the seat that her suitor had vacated.

Heat spread across her cheeks as she stared at him in shock. Had her thoughts conjured him out of thin air, or had he been passing by? She felt flustered, looking around for an answer.

"Has he told you about his many fishing expeditions? Or has he yet to regale you with tales of the Highlands?" Greyson made a disgusted face and wrinkled his nose.

"I beg your pardon. Just what do you think you are doing?" Violet asked him pointedly.

Signaling for the maid to bring him a clean cup, he settled into the chair. "I thought it would be obvious. I'm saving you, of course." He gave her the same charming smile he'd used at their first meeting.

"And just what makes you think I need saving? How exactly did you know where I was?" She ignored the strange fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

"I have my ways—and you are welcome, by the way. It was quick thinking on my part to send that note. Although I think we should hurry things along. My little stunt will buy us about twenty minutes before Lord Willford realizes that the Royal ambassador isn't going to arrive."

Violet fumbled for the right words but came up short. Part of her wanted to laugh at the little interruption, but the memory of his rude behavior still made her bristle.

The Earl proceeded to pour himself a cup of tea and then leaned over. "Has he hailed himself King of the Highlands yet? You know that men at White's refer to him as Lord Floppy Bottoms because of the trousers he insists on wearing while fishing?" he whispered conspiratorially.

Giggling against her better judgment, Violet felt herself enjoying his remarks. His trademark dimples that didn't fail to catch her attention helped lighten the mood. Why would someone as good-looking as he was need the services of a matchmaker?

"Why is it that you are here again, My Lord?" She relaxed in his presence when he shot her an amused grin.

"I have given your proposal some thought, and I think you will be pleased to know that I accept." His mischievous green eyes met hers over the rim of his cup.

"And what makes you think that the offer still stands?" she asked him more seriously.

The way he kept looking at her, as if he were undressing her with his eyes, made her pulse race.

"If the offer is no longer on the table, then I shall endeavor to persuade you." He winked at her, catching her off guard once again.

Pushing aside the heat she felt rising at the back of her neck, Violet considered his response. The prospect of going on more dates with men like Lord Floppy Bottoms was far too daunting for her.

"If I were to make this offer again, what rules do you propose?" She decided to humor him, for lack of any better response.

"Rules?" He cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

Violet rolled her eyes at his teasing. "If the fake betrothal is to be believable—which it needs to be—I suggest we both make our intentions and expectations clearput down some rules."

She waited patiently for his response.

Smirking, Greyson placed his cup back on the table. "You are quite the critical and analytical thinker, Lady Violet."

He seemed to be flirting with her, but she ignored his attempts.

"That is an astute observation, My Lord. My question still stands." She cut to the chase and waited, unperturbed by his charm despite the way he kept looking at her.

Charming smiles only lead to trouble.

She forced her attention back to the negotiation at hand.

He dropped the flirtatious glance. "Very well. All I want is for my mother to believe that I am genuinely devoted to you and besotted with you. The courtship will last for no more than one Season, after which we will go our separate ways. I will owe you nothing, and you shall owe me nothing. We will be like passing ships in the night," he spoke in a business-like manner.

Violet felt as if she were getting a glimpse of the man beneath the facade. "I agree and propose a few other conditions of my own."

"Go on." He sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest with a bemused smirk.

"The courtship will last exactly one Season. During this time, you will play the devoted fiancé, bringing me flowers, chocolates, and all the meaningless, empty gestures that the ton expects to see."

The Earl ran his tongue over his bottom lip before chuckling. The sound was deep and alluring, causing goosebumps to spread across her arms. "You are quite the romantic, aren't you?"

"True love and romance are things that fools and simpletons believe in. I will have no part in any of the tomfoolery." She looked him in the eye to convey her seriousness.

"That, at least, is something we can agree on. What else do you have?" He unfolded his arms and leaned forward.

"There will be no touching, kissing, or any kind of physical contact. A small amount of flirtation is expected, given the nature of our agreement, but that is where it ends."

Greyson scoffed and threw his arm over the back of his chair in the same manner he had done on the day they had met. "Just because you have a pretty mouth does not mean that I want to kiss you, Lady Violet." His eyes roamed over her body with a smoldering heat that nearly caused her to blush.

Thinking on her feet, she leaned forward and placed her arms on the table. "So, you find my mouth pretty, My Lord?" Her lips curled into a smile she knew would throw him off.

* * *

Greyson felt his cheeks flushing for the very first time in his life. Had she studied him that thoroughly that she knew how he would react? Violet Smith was certainly more than what she presented on the surface.

Clearing his throat, he played the situation off as coolly as he could. "That depends, Lady Violet. How do you feel about kissing me?" He held her gaze as the mesmerizing color changed for a second.

Violet stared him down before placing her chin in her hand, with her elbow resting on the table. "The rules stand, My Lord, there will be no touching or kissing."

"Very well, but don't you think we should address each other on more personal terms if we are to make others believe we are in love?" He examined her calculated reactions as she bit her cheek.

How is she not married yet?

He felt curiously drawn to her but knew it wasn't the time to ask about her past. Violet was a stunning beauty with enough charm and charisma to have won over any suitor of her choosing. What happened to her in the past that she would decide not to marry?

"I guess we should at least have some form of attachment between us to make it believable. Shall we go with Violet and Greyson?" She reverted to her calculated reactions and took her arms off the table.

"Violet and Greyson it is." He lifted his cup to her in a mock toast before taking a sip.

"Lady Violet?" Lord Willford returned and glanced at Violet with an accusatory glare.

Greyson stood up and extended his hand gallantly. "Lord Willford, my betrothed has been telling me all about you. How has the fishing in Scotland been?"

He saw Violet stifle a giggle out of the corner of his eye.

"Very well, thank you… Did you just say betrothed?" Lord Willford ignored Greyson's hand and looked to Violet for an answer.

"Yes, her betrothed. It has just been decided. I apologize if this comes as a shock to you, My Lord, but Violet and I are to be married." Greyson lowered his hand, walked around the table, and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Violet stiffened noticeably under his touch, making him wonder what had happened to her to make her this repulsed by a man's touch.

"Miss Webster said that you were unattached. How on earth could she set me up with a woman who was promised to another? And why in God's name did you not mention this before?" Lord Willford became noticeably angrier. His face turned a shade of purple, which made it look as if he were about to choke.

Greyson noticed that Violet was about to speak up, but he quickly took charge of the situation and helped her to her feet. "I'm afraid that Miss Webster did not know of the success of our match. We decided to keep things quiet until we were ready. It was I who asked Lady Violet to keep things quiet for a while. Being the important man that you are, I know you will understand how tricky these things can be." He slapped Lord Willford on the side of the arm, causing him to teeter slightly on his feet.

"Well, yes… these things can be frightfully tricky…" Lord Willford stuttered with a frown, seemingly confused by the situation.

"Wonderful, I knew that a man of your moral character would understand. Now if you would excuse us, the future Countess of Montclair and I must be on our way." Greyson took her hand despite the rules and led her out of the busy café.

A low susurration of whispers followed in their wake. It wouldn't be long until the whole ton was buzzing with the news of their engagement.

"I'm sorry if that made things a little awkward for you. I thought it best if we get it over with. The good news is that we won't have to wait long, and everyone will know about the engagement." Greyson stopped and turned to her with a smile, noticing how flustered she was.

"I suppose we won't have to wait long," Violet said in a small voice, glancing back through the café window.

Ladies and gentlemen gawked at them as if they were an oddity in the tower of London.

Sensing her discomfort, Greyson motioned for the footman to open the carriage door before taking her hand in his. "I know you don't like public displays of affection, but I think it's best if we give the ton something to solidify our performance." He lowered his voice just enough so that the footman wouldn't hear.

Bowing gallantly, he kissed the back of her gloved hand and lingered for a moment as a sweet floral scent filled his nostrils.

Violet gasped low enough for him to notice but not loud enough to draw the footman's attention.

Looking up, Greyson noticed the deep blush that had spread across her cheeks. Their gazes locked in a heated embrace that conveyed the underlying attraction.

Violet Smith would be the death of him if he wasn't careful. Their arrangement would either prove to be a grand adventure or the last fling he'd ever have.