Chapter 5

Chapter Five

V iolet must have taken leave of her senses. She had revealed her greatest folly to Edward as if they were intimate acquaintances, and then, after Mrs. Eggington brought in a tray heaping with libations, Violet had poured him a cup of tea and nibbled on a biscuit while she allowed him to steer the conversation to the villagers.

Absolute madness.

To make matters even worse, she was currently in her bedchamber dressing for dinner. She was going to go back down the stairs and share a meal with the man who had offered to marry her as if it wasn’t a life-altering decision.

A knock sounded at her door, and knowing it was her sister, she called, “Come in.”

Isabelle slid into the room, her bottom lip between her teeth and a wrinkle between her brows. “What was that about? Why did you allow us to join him for tea? Why are we staying when you said we wouldn’t? Why did you tell him the truth? Are you actually considering his proposal?”

“I…he…” She had no answer other than—“he didn’t technically propose.”

Isabelle’s brow shot up. “Then why’d you call him daft?”

“Fine.” She groaned. “He offered to marry me, but I cannot accept.”

“Then why are we still here?”

“I don’t know.” She was as baffled by her behavior as Isabelle seemed to be.

Edward had appeared genuinely concerned for her welfare, and she’d been so taken aback that she hadn’t been able to resist telling him part of the truth.

“You confirmed we were of no relation,” Isabelle said as she sank onto the bed. “You gave him every reason to expel us from his brother’s property or worse, and when I expressed an interest in staying, you rejected it out of hand. But then, instead of leaving, you told him about your betrothal and refused his offer of marriage. I could hardly believe it when you stayed at the table and poured his tea. I have to repeat my initial question, why are we still here?”

“I promised we’d accompany him to the assembly tomorrow.” Violet grimaced. That was not an explanation that made sense. “I’m sorry. I don’t know…you’re right…we should go. We should have left already, I just?—”

“No.” Isabelle held up her hand. “That isn’t what I’m suggesting. I’m simply confused and need you to explain. What are we going to do next? What is your plan?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her fingers into her forehead. She didn’t have any answers, and Isabelle had every right to question her decisions, especially now when they made no sense. “I can’t…the sane part of me is screaming for us to leave, but something is stopping me.”

“Edward is exceedingly handsome,” Isabelle noted.

“He is,” Violet agreed. It would do no good to deny it.

“More handsome than Basil.”

“Perhaps.” It wasn’t a useful comparison, as they were both excessively attractive. Although—“I don’t believe it is his beauty that causes me to linger.”

Isabelle’s eyebrow shot up. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” Violet stared out the window at the sea, which was barely discernible with the light of the moon hidden behind clouds. She had not realized until she had spoken that something beyond his looks was causing her to hesitate. “He knows nothing of us except for what he’s seen since he arrived and what I have told him, and yet he offered his help and then his name. It’s hard to fathom, but he might be the antithesis of Basil.” She paused, trying to explain her erratic decision-making to herself as much as to Isabelle. “Although in some ways he is so similar—he listens when he chooses to and ignores me when it suits him.”

“I like him,” Isabelle stated. “He seems trustworthy. Like he’d make an admirable husband.”

Violet tipped her head forward against the cold glass. “We hardly know him, and you know as well as I do that assuming a man is trustworthy is foolhardy. I can’t believe you sided with him and that you actually think I ought to consider his offer.”

“I want you to be happy. You cannot be happy unless you’re able to escape Basil entirely.”

“Escaping Basil is only the first step.” She turned to look at her sister. “You really think Edward would make me happy?”

“Maybe.” Isabelle paused. “At least you’re not furious with him. You don’t detest him, and he hasn’t betrayed you. You’d be less unhappy with him.”

Less unhappy. What an objective.

“We should go down to dinner.”

“You’ll think about it?”

She would think about nothing else, so she nodded and followed her sister out of the room. They traversed the narrow stairway and joined Edward in the small dining room. Violet expected the evening meal to be an extension of the tea they had shared. She assumed that he would ask her more questions, or now that he’d had a bit of time to think, try to offer alternate solutions to her situation.

He did neither.

He didn’t even mention her predicament. Instead, he regaled them with stories of his family. Over a hearty stew and fresh bread, he told them of his sisters; Jane and Louisa, who were only a year apart and nearly inseparable; and Belinda, who was fiercely competitive and only two years older than Violet. He also told them of Sebastian, who he seemed to have a hesitant affection for, and of Emmeline, who he clearly adored.

“Emmeline had never been on a horse when she arrived at Greydon Hall,” he told them. “She tried to convince me that she was too old, but we’re the same age, so I tossed her on the back of Nemesis before she could refuse. She was flustered at first, but it didn’t take her long to adjust. She’s a natural with animals—and people—and since that day, when we’re in the country, we ride in the mornings.”

“Do your sisters ride too?” Isabelle asked.

“They do. I made sure they knew how when they were young. Although none of them enjoy it for the simple pleasure of riding. Belinda insists on making every outing a race. Jane prefers sidesaddle and likes to plod along, while Louisa complains endlessly about one thing or another. It can be exhausting to ride with them, so I tended to ride alone until Sebastian married Emmeline.”

“Your brother doesn’t ride?” Violet asked.

“Oh, he does.” Edward hesitated, and then said, “Sebastian has many obligations. He spent the last decade in London while I remained in the country, so it’s only since his marriage that he has had the opportunity to ride with me, and even then he is often busy.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he talked about his brother, and it seemed clear that there was more to the story, but she wasn’t in a position to probe further. Giving him a reason to begin questioning her again did not seem wise.

“Do you ride?” he asked after a short lull in the conversation.

“Passably,” Violet responded. “There hasn’t been much opportunity as of late.”

“I suppose not.” The cottage had no need for a stable or horses. He gently placed his spoon on the table and patted his stomach. “Does Mrs. Eggington always provide such delicious fare?”

“Always,” Isabelle said. “She is quite accomplished.”

“No wonder you chose to stay,” he said, as he rose to his feet. “Would you care to join me for a glass of sherry before you retire for the night?”

“We shouldn’t,” Violet said, standing up. “It’s gotten late.”

“Of course.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward and brought her hand to his lips. “Thank you for the company, and for remaining through tomorrow evening.”

With a swift inhale, she nodded. “Thank you for…understanding.” It wasn’t the right word. He had been more than understanding, but she couldn’t think of a better word while her gloved fingers rested in his, the whisper of his kiss lingering against the back of her hand.

He released her and then bid Isabelle good night.

The two women ascended the stairs together, but in interest of avoiding discussing the future, Violet herded Isabelle into her bedchamber, pulled the door closed before her sister could launch an interrogation, and went to her own room.