Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
V iolet was more reluctant than nervous as she approached her father’s study. When she’d left Lord Greydon’s cottage, she’d been convinced that returning and taking a stand against Basil was necessary, but she was dreading it.
If she’d stayed, she might have allowed herself to be swayed into allowing Edward to solve her problem. It would be the height of insanity to trust a man simply because she liked the way he kissed. And the way he spoke to her. And the way he smiled. And the way he earnestly pledged to help her even after she told him no.
Ugh . She needed to stop thinking about him and do what she’d come to do—force Basil to leave. She was less than satisfied with her lack of strategy. Nothing had changed between her and Basil except the passage of time, so there was no reason to assume she’d affect a different outcome, but it was too late to change her mind, so she smoothed her hair, straightened her shoulders, and sailed into the room.
“Ah, you’ve returned,” Basil said, looking up from his newspaper as if she’d been gone for an hour rather than half a year. He leaned back in her father’s chair and linked his fingers on top of his ostentatious waistcoat. “Does that mean you’re finally ready to marry?”
“I have not changed my mind. I shall not marry you.”
His gaze rose to the ceiling as he sighed dramatically. “Not sure why you returned then.”
“I returned because this is my father’s house,” she responded stiffly.
“So it is.” He made no move to rise.
“You have no right to be here.” She might have been shaking on the inside, but her words were unwavering. She wanted to be clear—absolutely clear—that he did not belong in her home. Not any longer. Not since she’d learned the truth about him.
“Hmm.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “What kind of fiancé would I be if I had allowed you and Isabelle to remain unchaperoned after your father’s death? My mother kindly agreed to move in, and it only made sense for me to join her.” He smirked. “Once we marry, it’ll be our house.”
It would never be his.
“I do not require a chaperone.” She had tried to explain this to him before, and he had been dismissive, but she didn’t know what else to say except—“I just spent months without one.”
“That was rather irresponsible. What if something had happened to you?” He tsked. “Your father would not be impressed that you left with only Isabelle to protect your virtue. He wouldn’t want you two to be alone. You know how protective he was of you.”
She bristled at the mention of her father. He had always been kind when she’d seen him, and she had loved him, but she had no way of knowing if he’d known the truth of Basil’s character when he’d encouraged their courtship. She wanted to believe he’d had no idea, but she couldn’t deny that it was possible. As far as she could tell, her father hadn’t been the romantic sort, and he might have encouraged their marriage even if he had known.
The only silver lining of the past year was that she hadn’t married Basil before her father’s untimely death. Discovering Basil’s true character hadn’t done her any favors, but it had offered the potential for escape. At least in theory.
“No need to fret,” he said. “I’m happy to postpone the wedding as long as you wish.”
“I shall not marry you,” she repeated.
He nodded agreeably. “Perhaps you should take another trip if you’re not quite ready to be married.”
“Another trip?”
“You were gone for months. I assumed you left London?”
Her brows drew together. “You did not search for us?”
“Of course not.” He shrugged as if he wouldn’t waste his time. “It was quite clear you needed time away to grieve. I was confident you’d return when you were ready. I admit I was a tad worried about your lack of a chaperone and concerned about your lack of funds, but I felt I had no choice but to accept your wish for space. I’ve always appreciated your independent streak.” He smiled congenially. “We will marry eventually, it’s what your father wanted, but as I have told you, there’s no rush on my end.”
“I shall not marry you.” How many times must she repeat it for him to believe her?
“You’ve decided to paint me as a rogue when we both know I am not.” His smile dropped as he patted her hand. “You welcomed our betrothal. You agreed to it.”
She yanked her hand away. “Under false pretenses. You don’t love me. You don’t even like me.”
The look of pity on his face was unmistakable. “My dear Violet, that is entirely untrue, and you know it. I apologize if the manner in which I courted you gave you unrealistic expectations, but I thought you’d appreciate a bit of romance.”
She bristled with indignation. The worst part was that she had appreciated it. She’d fallen for him, while he’d been doing nothing more than feigning interest in her. If he hadn’t been so attentive, she would not have become infatuated, and she definitely would not have been devastated to see him in the arms of another woman.
When she had confronted him, he’d revealed that he was in love with the woman he’d been kissing. He saw no issue with the fact that he’d been in love with another when he’d met Violet. Apparently, the fact that his paramour was content to allow him to marry Violet—with the understanding that he would love and support her and the children they created together while he feigned his marriage to Violet—was all that mattered to him.
Violet had been heartbroken.
And appalled.
And angry.
What sort of man loved one woman and married another?
A scoundrel .
Once Violet had had the chance to process the fact that everything between her and Basil had been a lie, she had told him in a most convincing fashion that she would never marry him, but he had refused to believe her.
Refused.
Even worse than his refusal was the fact that he’d expected her to carry on as if nothing were amiss. He’d honestly thought that she’d like it if he continued pretending that he loved her. She had finally managed to convince him that she did not enjoy his false declarations of affection, but that was as far as she’d progressed in her plan to never lay eyes on him again.
“I would appreciate it if you vacated my father’s house and permanently removed yourself from my life,” she said through clenched teeth.
He had the nerve to chuckle. “That’ll never happen. I made a promise to your father, and I will fulfill it.”
She wanted to scream. She’d known he wouldn’t leave. And she’d known that she shouldn’t return. And yet she had anyway.
She reminded herself that she wasn’t completely without options. Edward might not love her any more than Basil did, and she might have lost her head when he kissed her, but he was proof that she could marry another if she chose to. “You oughtn’t be so secure in your position.”
He chuckled again. “Why not?”
“Because I am earnest when I say I shall not marry you, and if you continue to refuse to believe me, I will find a way to make our marriage impossible.”
“My dear Violet, I do not doubt your resolve. However, at this point you don’t really have a choice, do you?” He smiled smugly. “There aren’t any stipulations on receiving your full inheritance other than marrying. Are you really going to make do with your measly allowance forever? How will you ever secure a husband for Isabelle if you cannot offer a dowry?”
“Whatever do you mean?” she asked.
“I can probably manage to cover the household expenses indefinitely, but it’ll be years before I acquire enough funds to dower your sister on my own.”
How dare he? “Are you saying you will sabotage my sister’s future unless I marry you?”
He looked down his nose at her as if she were incompetent. “I’m saying that, just like you, I cannot access your full fortune until after we are married. Your father was not a fool. He wanted you safe and well cared for, but not taken advantage of, so your allowance is readily available, but that is it.”
“You don’t have full access to my inheritance?” Why had she assumed he held control of her funds?
“Of course not. We’ve been living off my income because I don’t have any access to your inheritance. Not until we’re married.”
“And if we never marry?”
“I suppose we would remain as we are.”
“What if I married someone else?”
He laughed heartily. “You love me.”
Could he be any more delusional? “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” she demanded. The assumptions she’d made about money seemed to be entirely false.
His brow shot up. “It’s your inheritance, I assumed you knew how it functioned.”
She clenched her jaw. Her blasted father had never told her anything. Basil, either. Why did they assume she knew something when no one told her anything?
“When you finally accept that we must marry, inform me and we’ll post the banns.”
She huffed with frustration. She couldn’t trust Basil for much, but she could trust him to be insufferable. Instead of arguing further, she spun on her heel and started out of the room.
“Lovely to see you, as always,” he called after her.
She stomped up the stairs and entered her sister’s bedchamber without knocking.
“Isabelle,” she said loudly as she pulled open the heavy drapes.
Her sister blinked at the muted light that spilled through the window. “We arrived late last night, why are you not still abed?”
Violet ignored the question. “I have spoken with Basil. He is…the same.” She would not mention what he had revealed about her inheritance, but she would think about it. Was Basil’s insistence on their marriage because of the money? Or was he really so committed to his word?
Isabelle rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Of course Basil is the same. I don’t understand why you thought that talking to him again was going to yield a different outcome. Edward has the right of it. Basil will not give up his plan to make you his wife unless you’re already married.”
“He had the nerve to suggest we take another trip.”
“He…what?” Isabelle flipped her braid over her shoulder and leaned forward.
“He’s in no rush to be wed, and therefore he thinks we should disappear until I have come to my senses and will agree to marry him.”
“He was not mad that we fled in the dead of night without leaving word of where we were going?” Isabelle asked.
“Apparently not. He didn’t even search for us.” She was more than a little put out that they’d been terrified he would find them and demand they return, and he hadn’t even cared they left. He really was the worst excuse for a fiancé.
“And now that we’ve returned, he thinks we should leave again?”
“Yes. Apparently he enjoys living here without us.”
Isabelle started laughing. “I know it isn’t funny…but we were so worried he would be angry. And that he’d find us. We hid in that cottage like our lives depended on it.” She laughed so hard that tears trickled down her cheeks. “What did we think he’d do if he found us?”
Violet sighed and flopped backward onto the bed. She was less amused than her sister. In hindsight, she could admit it had been foolish to cast Basil as a dastardly villain.
Basil was many things, but he was not violent, and she’d never witnessed any displays of anger from him. He always remained coolly controlled, even when she was agitated and yelled at him. She’d fled in the dark of night in order to escape his clutches, but it seemed she needn’t have bothered. He still intended to marry her, but it truly seemed as if he’d wait patiently for her to be ready.
Isabelle finally stopped laughing and asked, “Do you think we ought to leave again? Even if he isn’t going to force you to marry him straight away, he’s still intolerable.” Isabelle’s loyalty was absolute, and she disliked the falseness of Basil’s charm even more than Violet did.
“You were right. We can hardly spend the rest of our lives flitting about England while he lives here. I want him gone from our home and out of our lives.”
“Simply telling Basil to leave is not enough. You’ve already tried countless times.” Isabelle hesitated and then said, “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you shouldn’t have rejected Edward’s offer outright. We have no leverage whatsoever, and Basil has no conscience. You cannot reason with him, nor can you change his mind. Edward offered a viable solution, and you know it. You’re being stubborn because of what happened between you and Basil. You might not want to rely on a man to save you, but what other option do you have?”
Violet chewed on her lip. She wasn’t being stubborn.
She was being careful.
Wasn’t she?
It would be foolish to marry a man she hardly knew, especially when the man in question was self-assured, confident, and handsome beyond measure.
There was no way to ensure his fidelity.
In mind or body.
She still could not believe she’d kissed him so freely. “Edward made that offer on a whim. We have no reason to trust he has my best interests at heart.”
“Pish.” Isabelle flicked her wrist. “We have no reason not to trust him either. He seemed earnest. He barely reacted to the fact that we were squatting on his brother’s property and pretending to be a relation. And he offered to help us without asking for anything in return.”
“He’d get everything in return. A wife. A house. A fortune.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “As far as he knows, the only thing he’d acquire is a wife with a sister.”
She’d told him enough that he could guess. “He’s an intelligent man. Surely he reasoned that Basil is after our wealth.”
“Edward is the brother to an earl. More handsome than a god. And you think he wants to marry a stranger on the off chance she is wealthy?”
“Why else?”
“Maybe he likes you.”
Violet scoffed. “He hardly knows me.”
“And yet, when I offered myself as a marital prospect, he was uninterested.”
“We kissed,” Violet blurted and then immediately winced at the way Isabelle’s mouth dropped open.
“He kissed you?”
“I kissed him.” It was an important distinction.
Isabelle’s eyes reflected her amusement. “During your walk?”
“No. At the assembly.”
“When you disappeared?”
“I didn’t disappear.”
“You did so. But when you reappeared, you seemed so calm that I assumed nothing happened.”
“I was not as serene as I seemed. I was confused and aroused.” She winced again. She hadn’t meant to admit the last part to her sister. “Our kiss was…more than pleasant.” What a paltry description for the most distracting and delightful kiss of her life. “It scared me. I can’t risk another emotional entanglement. You know how foolish I can get.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrowed, the delight in them fading. “You kissed Edward, and you liked it, so we fled like thieves in the night for the second time? I’m not quite following your logic.”
“Not like thieves,” Violet argued.
“Exactly like thieves.” Isabelle groaned. “I am very much starting to think you should not be in charge of our endeavors. Twice you decreed that we had no other option than to disappear, and you’ve been wrong both times.”
“I am not wrong about Basil. And Edward—I nearly agreed to marry the man the day after I met him.”
“You…what?” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You were honestly considering saying yes? That means…you’ve been wildly out of sorts since our first encounter with Edward. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were infatuated—” Isabelle sucked in a breath. “You like him. You really like him. More than you liked Basil.”
“I loved Basil,” she snapped.
“But did you like him?” Isabelle tipped her head to the side. “You were distracted by his good looks and, oh my goodness , I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. He’s—you think Edward is like Basil, don’t you? That is why kissing him frightened you away. You’re afraid he’s playing you false. Or that you’re making the wrong assumption about his motives.”
Violet shrugged helplessly.
She’d been the recipient of such attention once before, and it had been fabricated. If Basil could pretend so thoroughly and manipulate her emotions so easily, why couldn’t Edward do the same? After all, he had offered to marry her without consideration, and even days later, she was unable to fathom his motivation. His interest in her was unguarded and almost palpable. She could feel it in the way he looked at her and in the way he touched her, and it terrified her.
How could she trust herself enough to trust him?