Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

V iolet would be lying if she claimed she’d never thought of her wedding. As soon as she’d met Basil, she’d actively imagined pledging her heart and soul and body to him. She’d envisioned herself standing in a church wearing a soft shade of green that allowed her startlingly pale skin to glow, while her father and her sister beamed at her from a few feet away. And she’d pictured Basil, his eyes worshipping, his hair perfectly styled, and his morning suit stretching across his broad shoulders.

It would have been perfect if it had happened as she imagined.

As it was, she was glad it hadn’t happened at all.

Agreeing to marry Edward with far different expectations, she hadn’t concerned herself with the details of their wedding. She told herself that it hardly mattered what she wore. Or how he looked at her. They weren’t in love, and there was no reason to pretend they were.

Instead of considering their wedding, she’d spent her time concentrating on what she would do after they spoke their vows. Her mind had been elsewhere most of the time, and it honestly hadn’t occurred to her to disagree with any of the multitude of suggestions that were made by his family. If they asked her opinion, she simply nodded and agreed with whatever they said they preferred.

Because she’d paid little attention and offered no ideas, on the morning of her wedding she found herself standing at the front of a small church, wearing a perfectly fitted gown of pale lavender that Edward’s sisters had chosen for her.

Trying to remain calm and detached, she looked down at herself and resisted the urge to laugh.

She wasn’t amused. Not even a little.

What she was, was nervous.

It was not an emotion that she appreciated—especially on her wedding day—so she attempted to ignore it as she snuck a glance at her future husband. He looked exquisite; his jacket appeared to have been sewn onto his body, his light curls were perfectly tousled, and his emerald eyes shone with something that resembled fondness or, heaven help her, affection.

Violet sucked in a breath as clarity struck like an anvil.

She was about to be his wife.

She was tying herself to a man she didn’t love but certainly liked, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

There were no sounds in the church. At least none that she could hear over the blood rushing through her veins. Reaching out and gripping his forearm steadied her a little. Comforted by the fact that he was warm and firm and there, she willed herself to relax.

As if sensing her turmoil, his hand covered her clenched fingers, and he smiled softly. She didn’t want it to, but his sincere smile calmed the racing in her heart enough that it might be possible for her to make it through the ceremony without collapsing into a heap at his feet.

* * *

Edward could feel the tension in his almost-wife’s unrelenting grip on his arm. Was Violet having second thoughts about marrying him? Was she desperately wishing for another solution?

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen skin so leached of color. It was unnerving enough that he wondered if he ought to call off the wedding. It didn’t take him more than a second to conclude that he couldn’t jilt her, but he could ask if she wanted to jilt him.

“Do you wish to cancel the wedding?” he whispered directly into her ear.

The glare she leveled at him made it clear that she did not want to. Nor did she welcome the question. Relieved by her glower, he hardly flinched when her grip tightened on his arm.

“If I wished to cancel the wedding, I wouldn’t be here,” she hissed, not bothering to quiet her voice.

It wasn’t a declaration, but he felt claimed anyway.

He squeezed her hand where it clutched the sleeve of his jacket. When he did, she inhaled sharply, and not wanting to crush her fingers, he hastily loosened his grip. He tried to think of what he could say to reassure her that she wasn’t making a mistake, but nothing came to mind. At least nothing he could whisper quickly and quietly.

If she got any paler, he very much thought she might sink to the floor of the church in a swoon, and even though she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to cancel the wedding, he had the urge to sweep her into his arms and rush out the solid oak doors and into the London streets. Absconding in Sebastian’s carriage, he could take her back to the cottage where she could return to pretending to be his cousin. And he could—no, he couldn’t pretend to be her cousin. Not when he wanted to be her husband.

It was such a tangle. He wanted to be married, while she needed to be married.

Shifting his body weight so they were touching from shoulder to elbow, he tried to transfer calm assurance from himself to her, and after a moment, he was almost positive a smidgeon of her tension receded.

The ceremony started, and while he knew his siblings and her sister were sitting silently behind him, he couldn’t concentrate on anyone but Violet. The steady stream of words from the clergyman seemed to relax her enough that her grip on his forearm loosened.

She did not make eye contact with him once during the ceremony, not even when she spoke her vows in a steady voice, nor when she accepted the rather simple ring she had approved the prior afternoon. Remaining pale as they signed the register and accepted the well wishes from their families, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the carriage.

As they rode the short distance to Sebastian’s townhouse for the wedding breakfast, he attempted to amuse her with small talk, but she remained stoic and almost unnaturally calm.

As morning bled into afternoon, she seemed more thoughtful than distressed, and when he noticed her look at the clock on the mantle for the third time in a matter of minutes, he knew it was time for them to use their marriage for its intended purpose. Confronting Basil and evicting him before nightfall was her goal, so they said their farewells, left her sister in the care of his family, and were on their way.

* * *

By the time they entered the carriage, Violet was a bundle of impatient energy. Her wedding to Edward was already a bit of a blur, not that she hadn’t been singularly focused while it was happening, just that she was having a hard time thinking about it now that it was over.

To be fair, it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the fact that she would never have to marry Basil. Not today. Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

It had taken longer than she would have liked, and she hadn’t been able to do it on her own, but none of that mattered as the carriage started to move. They turned the first corner, and she was already trembling with anticipation. Her left foot tapped on the wall as her fingers toyed with the strings of her reticule. Clearly noticing her impatience, Edward reached out and clasped her right hand. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she snapped.

It would have been difficult to blame him if he had released her hand and withdrawn his offer of reassurance, but instead he squeezed it gently, seemingly unoffended by her harsh tone. She could have pulled away, but his touch wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it might have even calmed her a bit. They hadn’t been alone since the cottage, and they hadn’t touched nearly enough since she’d agreed to marry him, but when they had, he always seemed intent on offering comfort.

Even when she didn’t deserve it.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, ignored how splendid he looked, and informed him, “I need to speak to Basil alone.”

“That isn’t—” He cut himself off and silence filled the small space. With a barely discernible sigh, he asked, “Why?”

“Because he’s been refusing to believe me, and it’s important that he recognizes that I was honest with him from the very beginning. I need him to know he only has himself to blame for my marriage to you.”

“What if he’s angry? You were frightened enough of him to hide in the cottage for months. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Basil won’t hurt me,” she assured him. “Not physically at least. It wasn’t fear that made me run.” It pained her to admit, but it wasn’t as if Edward didn’t already know what a mess her life had become. “It was helplessness.”

He squeezed her hand as if he understood. Even before her father died, no one except for Isabelle had cared about her well-being the way Edward seemed to. Once again, she could have pulled away, but she didn’t.

“How can you be sure you’ll be safe?” he asked.

“Because I know him.”

“And you think once you tell him, he’ll leave?”

He didn’t sound skeptical, but that didn’t stop her from getting defensive. “He’s smart enough to know when he’s lost. Also—” This time, she was the one to cut herself off. Under no circumstances did she want to explain that Basil’s charm and kindness were his weapons of choice. The hurt she had received at his hand was an emotional one, and it was too late to protect herself from it, but she didn’t have to reveal it to anyone else.

Edward, hopefully having no idea of the direction of her thoughts, waited patiently for her to continue speaking. When she didn’t, he said, “I’d feel more comfortable if I were on hand in case you require assistance. Perhaps I can wait in the hallway.”

She shook her head. As much as she’d enjoy having a witness to her triumph, she didn’t want it to be Edward. The conversation she intended to have with Basil would reveal far too much about her past. And her choices. And her mistakes. She couldn’t help wondering whether she ought to have brought Isabelle along instead of leaving her with Edward’s family.

But no, she didn’t require her sister’s support either. She needed to do this on her own.

“You can wait in the foyer. After I speak with Basil, I’ll introduce you, and then he can leave.” She had considered it from every angle and concluded it was unavoidable for them to meet, at least briefly. Basil needed visual evidence that she’d thwarted him.

“If that is what you prefer,” Edward answered softly.

“Thank you.”

Violet both loved and hated that he was willing to let her stand up for herself. She wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t fully understand it. In her experience, men craved control, but Edward didn’t seem to require it.

The carriage lurched to a stop, and she put Edward out of her mind. She would have plenty of time to think of him later. A lifetime, in fact.

Not having the patience to wait for a footman, she leapt out and went directly to the door. Without pausing, she swept into the house and went straight down the hallway to her father’s study.

Unsurprisingly, when she reached the open doorway Basil was elbow deep in paperwork, hunched over her father’s massive desk with his jacket off and his sleeves turned twice to reveal his forearms.

She used to enjoy watching him work, but now the memory chafed. He had loved working for her father more than anything. Together, they’d spend hours poring over ledgers in the study and even more time away from the house. Basil seemed willing to do whatever necessary to secure his position, and he had always shown intense dedication both before and after her father’s passing. More than once, she’d wondered if work was the true love of his life.

When he didn’t acknowledge her entrance, she cleared her throat. His gaze shot up and he pulled his spectacles off, offering her a smile. “Violet dear, how lovely to see you. You’re looking quite fetching today. I’ve always thought lavender suited you exceptionally well.”

She refused to allow his compliments to soften her, so she ignored his words entirely. “I’ve come to inform you that you have until the end of the day to remove yourself from my home.”

He leaned back in her father’s chair, his smile going from warm to indulgent. “Violet, darling. We’ve been over this before, and I have quite a bit of work to finish, so perhaps you can wait and scold me over supper.”

“I shall never dine with you again.”

He sighed. “I don’t see how you’ll avoid it once we’re married. Will you take all your meals in your bedchamber for the rest of your life?”

“I’m not marrying you.” She paused, relishing the power she now held. “I can’t marry you because I’m already married.”

He smirked. “Oh really.” He rested his chin on his palm as if she were spinning an amusing tale for his enjoyment. “Do tell.”

She held up her hand, the ring on it clearly visible. “While I was away, I met Mr. Edward Grey, brother to the Earl of Greydon, and he asked for my hand in marriage. At first, I hesitated, but after returning here and learning you were never going to release me from our engagement, I decided to accept his offer. Earlier this morning, we spoke our vows in front of my sister and his family. I am married .”

Basil shot to his feet, eyes locked on her finger. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“You promised yourself to me,” he nearly shouted. “We are betrothed. You cannot marry another.”

“I can and I have,” she replied. “Your lack of fidelity destroyed any chance that I would marry you.”

Red spots bloomed on his cheeks, and with his chest heaving, he was even more gorgeous than usual. It was infuriating that even after everything that had happened, she still noticed how attractive he was. Why couldn’t she simply hate him?

“Don’t be dramatic. I have never treated you with anything other than kindness. I courted you and complimented you. And then when your father died, I told you I’d wait as long as you needed. I…I…how could you do this to me?” His breath rushed in and out as he released and clenched his hands at his sides.

“I told you time and again that we would not marry.”

“You did. It’s just…I did not believe you.” His voice sounded anguished, and his expression was no better. She wanted to feel vindicated, but it was hard in the face of his distress. “I would have been an admirable husband to you.”

“How can you say that?” She swallowed thickly. “You don’t love me.” Why didn’t he understand? And how did he always manage to make her feel as if she were being unreasonable?

“And you think he does?”

“Not at all. I am no longer under the illusion that I will marry a man who loves me.” She couldn’t contain a choking laugh. “The difference is, he is too honorable to pretend. ”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Basil replied stiffly. “I don’t understand why it is inconceivable to you that I might be capable of loving two women.”

“And I don’t understand why you thought it was acceptable to captivate me when you were already in love with someone else. It was an unforgivable betrayal of my trust.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her hand flew to her lips. She could hardly believe she’d revealed how deeply her emotions had run. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know, but she would never forgive herself for reminding him how smitten she’d been.

“I wanted you to be happy,” he whispered.

She shook her head and willed tears from forming in her eyes. She’d already shed all the tears she’d allow on Basil Knightly. “I’m happy now that I’m free of our betrothal,” she said just as softly.

He nodded once and then grabbed his jacket, wrestling it on before picking up his spectacles. “Is your husband here now?”

“Of course. As of today, this is his house.”

“Lovely.” In a blink, Basil wiped the pain off his face, and in its place, formed a wobbly smile. “Shall we find him? I fancy an introduction.”

“Let’s,” she said, unable to force a smile in return even though she wanted to. The triumph she’d expected was there, but something else was too. Something that she couldn’t identify but did not particularly like. Revenge did not feel as sweet as she had expected it to.

She led Basil down the hallway, her heart thudding in her chest. Edward straightened when he spotted them. His expression was polite, if a bit remote, while she performed the introductions, and the two men exchanged stilted greetings.

“All sorted?” Edward asked her.

She nodded as Basil said, “If by all sorted you mean Violet has informed me that you married her earlier today, and she wishes me to leave, then yes.” He stepped closer than strictly necessary, but his expression was as congenial as always. “I don’t know your intentions here, and I might lack the power to undo an ill-conceived marriage, but Violet’s father entrusted me with her safety, and I take that responsibility quite seriously. It is my expectation that you’ll treat her well.”

“Basil,” she sputtered, horror clogging her throat. It was inconceivable that he thought he needed to defend her when the only person in this room who’d ever hurt her was him. “You can’t…you aren’t…you’re being preposterous.”

His sincere blue eyes met hers. “Regardless of what you believe, I have never wanted anything more than I wanted to marry you. It is my most fervent hope that you are satisfied with the choice you’ve made today. Your happiness will always be important to me, and if you ever require my assistance, you only need to ask.”

She didn’t know how to respond. He seemed earnest and truthful, and as always, it confused her. How could he speak so genuinely when he had betrayed her?

Edward glanced at her and then spoke calmly. “I will not give Violet any reason to regret marrying me.”

“I should hope not.” Basil shot one more glance in her direction before he turned to the staircase and started climbing it. “I’ll instruct my mother’s companion to pack their trunks and gather their things. Mother and I shall be gone before dark.” He turned on the fifth step and looked down upon them. “There are things we must discuss, but they can wait for another day.”

“What things?” she demanded, her feet moving toward the stairs. She had intended to never lay eyes upon him again.

“Not today.” He shook his head. “You should enjoy your honeymoon first.”

He smirked, and the twinkle in his eye reminded her that he was aware of how much she enjoyed passionate interludes. Not for the first time, she wished she’d never kissed him, or touched him, or allowed him to touch her. She’d given him too many parts of herself, too many firsts. Loving him had allowed him to betray her.

She would need to be much more careful with Edward than she’d been with Basil. Imagine if she became infatuated with her husband?

The horror.

Even though she knew that Basil was attempting to embarrass her, she said nothing except, “Thank you.”

Basil didn’t respond, just continued up the stairs.

Once he was out of sight, she wrenched her gaze away and focused on her husband. “I’m parched, and now that things are settled with Basil, we should call for tea.”

She tucked her hand into the crook of Edward’s elbow and led him to the small parlor that overlooked the street, making sure to sit where she’d have a clear view of Basil’s departure.

She rang for tea, forgetting for a moment that the staff did not know Basil was leaving. Nor did they know that she was married. She probably should have ventured to the kitchens, where the housekeeper and maid were sure to be at this time of day, and informed them of the changes, but they had all been loyal to Basil, and she was not certain they would remain once he left.

Plus, she was exhausted after the day she’d had.

Their maid, Lydia, appeared in the doorway. “Miss?”

“Lydia.” Violet, suddenly nervous, spoke briskly. “My husband and I would like tea.”

“Your…your husband?”

“That is correct. We married earlier this morning.”

“But…but…what about Mr. Knightly?”

“Mr. Knightly will be leaving shortly to seek other accommodations. We are no longer betrothed.”

Lydia gaped at them, her confusion evident.

“Lydia, was it?” Edward asked, his smile charmingly wide.

She offered a tentative smile in return. “Uh…yes, sir.”

“I understand this is a bit of a shock. My wife”—he put extra emphasis on those two words—“was supposed to marry Mr. Knightly. It was what her father wanted, but unfortunately, it wasn’t what she wanted.” He let those words hang for a second and then added, “When we met…well…you can’t fight love.”

“Love,” Lydia repeated.

“When you meet the right person, previous agreements are no longer valid. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Umm…yes?”

His eyes crinkled. “We married as soon as we were able. Circumstances being what they are, we felt it prudent to wait until after the ceremony was over to share our happiness with others. We couldn’t risk interference before we spoke our vows, you understand?”

Lydia nodded, her confusion replaced by something softer as she dropped into a curtsy. “Congratulations, sir, miss.”

“Much appreciated.” Edward placed his hand on Violet’s, just like he had done in the carriage. “We’re positively famished. Perhaps?—”

“Tea. Of course.” Lydia backed out of the room and disappeared into the hallway.

Silence descended. Violet’s thoughts tangled. Edward’s claims had been quite convincing. If she didn’t know the truth, she might have believed they were in love.

“I appreciate that you’re willing to lie for me.” She probably should have hated it more. Dishonesty was not an admirable trait, and just because he was spinning a tale that benefited her didn’t make it more so. “But you had better not lie to me.” She’d already made him promise, but it could not be stated too frequently or too forcefully.

“You are my wife,” he stated, not flinching or hesitating. “You can trust me.”

She allowed the words to settle, even if they didn’t convince her. Trust did not come easily. And she certainly didn’t intend to extend it to him simply because he informed her that she could, but she couldn’t deny that she liked that he didn’t hesitate to reassure her. “Do you intend to spin that tale for everyone we encounter?”

“Only as necessary. Yesterday you were betrothed to another man. We must provide a reasonable explanation for why we married in secret.”

She sighed. He was probably right. Her circle of acquaintances in London was almost nonexistent, but his was probably much larger, and they had married rather abruptly.

Lydia bustled in carrying a large tray. She set it on the table and then disappeared back into the hall. Violet already knew Edward took a bit of sugar, so she didn’t need to ask his preference as she busied herself preparing the tea.

She was passing him his cup when sounds from outside drew her attention. Her own tea forgotten, she peered into the street and watched as Basil secured three trunks onto a small cart.

As he finished, a hack slowly rolled to a stop behind the cart. Basil spoke to the driver, and then his mother appeared. He handed her and her companion into the carriage and then climbed in after them. Not once did he look back at the house, nor did he give any indication that he was hesitant to leave. He simply climbed in and disappeared from view.

It was satisfying to witness his departure. The relief she’d been waiting for charged through her like a stampede as the hack trundled down the street. She wasn’t prepared for the unexpected wave of sadness that accompanied it.

But maybe she should have been.

So many things had changed over the last year, and her life was not at all as she’d expected when her father brought her and Isabelle to London.

Edward cleared his throat, and she realized she was still staring out the window even though the carriage was gone. She shook her head slightly and picked up her tea. It was time to let go of her past and focus on the future.