CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The life of an idle lady of the ton, ensconced at her country estate, grated on Viola’s nerves. More than once, she found herself longing to throw her needlepoint at the wall.
The walls! Yet another thing she could not stomach. Who in their right sensibilities selected salmon for the color of their walls? The sitting room desperately needed renovation, but she’d spent so many years at Foldger’s Foals that she had not bothered with her father’s outdated estate.
With time on her hands, she found herself falling into previously enjoyed pastimes. The desire to renovate rooms, redress her father’s staff, and modernize Ruby’s wardrobe were strong. But that was not her any longer. She had changed. She was no longer the debutante of the season, to be doted upon by all things breathing . . . No, she was the aging daughter of a duke.
She sighed.
“Whatever is the problem now, Vi?” Ruby asked from her seat on the far side of the table where they had laid their thread colors.
“If I must look at these walls for one more second, I fear my stomach will relieve itself of the delicious sandwiches we had at morning tea.”
“Would you prefer we move outside?”
“Outside, my chambers, the kitchen . . . They are all the same.” Vi threw her needlework to the table and slumped into the sofa.
“Sit up straight. You will wrinkle your dress, and you know how Sarah abhors ironing them out.”
“Is it really vital that I sit up straight?” Vi took her bad mood out on her friend. “To be honest, I may start ironing my own wardrobe. Goodness, I do have the time.” She’d been in a foul mood for days now, but she knew that punishing Ruby with her disagreeableness would not help.
Ruby ignored Vi’s outburst and continued with her needlework.
“I am sorry. I do not know what has come over me these last few days,” Vi said.
“Do you think I do not know what your problem is?” Ruby finally set her work aside and met Vi’s gaze. “Are you so delusional or oblivious that you cannot see?” Before she could speak, Ruby continued, “You are no longer the type of female to sit idly by and let the days pass. You refuse to go to London as your father requests, but have nothing to occupy your time here.”
To her chagrin, Vi recognized that everything Ruby said was true.
“And you refuse to release Connor of his duties, so the few things to attend to with the foals, he is handling. If you want my opinion—”
“I’m not sure I do,” Viola said. She had not seen Ruby this agitated, ever.
“Oh, but you will have it.” Ruby stood from where she perched on the edge of the sofa, her hands on her hips. “You need to get your arse out of this house. You have never been one to give up. Why now?”
“I have tried—”
“Truly? Are you sure you’ve put one-hundred percent into making Foldger’s Foals successful?”
Vi nodded. “I have spent countless nights thinking of all our options.”
“That is my point! You have spent time thinking about the problems, but what have you actually done?”
Viola didn’t understand the passion flowing from her friend. Ruby would have a place here with her regardless of the state of Vi’s business.
“Maybe it is time you journey to London—”
“I am in no need of a husband,” Viola fairly shouted.
Ruby leaned over the table, her finger jabbing the air in front of Vi. “Why are you so petrified of attracting a husband? There are more than marriage-seeking men out there. There are business men. Stop and think about the benefits of a trip to town.”
If Vi was of the opposite sex, she would have let forth an explicit phrase—or two. Ruby was right. She hadn’t thought of a trip to London to further her business. “While I see your point, how could I sneak into London without alerting my father?”
“Now, that is something you should be thinking about.” Ruby regained her seat and her composure, picked up her needlepoint, and returned to her work.
How was it possible for the woman to be up in arms one minute and quietly working the next? How she envied her friend’s acceptance of her lot in life.
“Come in,” Ruby called without lifting her head.
Viola hadn’t heard the tap on the door.
“My lady.” Sarah entered the room. “This came in the post today and Mr. Cale requested I bring it to you posthaste.”
“Thank you.” Vi took the missive. Lord help her if it was another letter from her father imploring her to come to London.
“Who is it from?” Ruby didn’t bother looking up.
Viola turned the letter over in her hands. “It is from a London address I do not recognize.” Hanover Square. . . . She racked her brain for an acquaintance or old friend who lived in that area of town, but came up with none.
“Well, open it!” Ruby set her work aside and stared at Vi expectantly.
“It is not every day we receive unsolicited letters from London. Maybe it is a new client.”
The front of the envelope had been addressed to Lady Posey Hale. Her stomach sank, and she feared her luncheon would indeed make another appearance.
“Why the look of doom and gloom?”
“It is from Lord Haversham, addressed to Lady Posey Hale.”
“I knew we hadn’t seen the last of Brock. He was rather smitten with you.”
Vi looked up, wishing she could forget about the letter. “Smitten? What do you know of smitten?”
“Not much as it applies to myself, but I did grow up with Brock and his siblings—” Ruby managed to look contrite when Vi winced at the mention of Cody and Winston. “I do apologize, but I will not coat the situation in sugar to make it more agreeable to you.”
Vi waved her hand, signaling Ruby to continue.
“I do despise it when you wave your hand at me like that.”
She waved her hand in Ruby’s direction again defiantly.
Ruby huffed but continued, “I was going to say that I grew up with Brock, and I remember a time he was smitten with our dairy maid. He took to showing up at our estate and following her about. My mother finally had to send him on his way.”
Vi couldn’t refute the similarities in the situations. Brock—when had she started thinking about him as Brock and not Lord Haversham?—had arrived early to gather his foals. He’d also followed her out to the pasture and watched her for Lord knew how long. Now, a letter from him. A part of her wanted to squeal like a girl straight out of the schoolroom, but the practical woman knew the letter could hold nothing but bad tidings and disappointment.
Ruby cleared her throat and stared. “Open it.”
“Does it matter what the letter holds? All of my dealings with the man have been a ruse, and when he finds out he will hate me more than he already must.”
Her dear friend moved to sit beside her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “I think it matters greatly to you what this letter holds. Give it to me, and I shall read it.” Ruby plucked the letter from Vi’s hands and ripped the envelope open.
Vi’s hopes of shredding the letter, as if she’d never received it, were dashed as Ruby smoothed the parchment out in front of her.
She watched closely as Ruby’s eyes scrunched in confusion, widened in surprise and then a smile spread across her face. “I must read this to you.” Delight infused her tone.
“Are you sure it is something I want to hear?”
“Most assuredly, Vi.”
Viola wasn’t so sure, but was hesitant to say no. “Very well.” She rubbed her hands down her olive-colored dress nervously. Why did she make to rub her hands clean every time she had a bout of anxiety?
Ruby cleared her throat and spoke in a deep voice. “Lady Posey Hale--”
“Do stop that!”
“Oh, all right. You are quite stiff when your deceit is coming to a head.” Ruby paused and started to read again, “I have come into contact with several men seeking to expand their stables. Your attendance in London
is requested to meet with said gentlemen. Please send word of your arrival date.” Ruby re-folded the letter and replaced it in its envelope.
“That is all?” Vi asked and sat back in her seat. When had she moved to perch on the edge of the sofa? If Ruby had read one more sentence, Vi might have ended up on the floor.
“Did you expect more?” Ruby raised an eyebrow.
“You know exactly what I expect!” The woman was insufferable.
“I am unsure what more you want. That is all he wrote.”
“Do not play coy with me. Lest you forget, I perfected the art of coy long ago. How did Bro—Lord Haversham, sign the letter?” Part of her wondered why she cared. The other part knew it would speak volumes.
Ruby took her time extricating the letter from the envelope once more and smoothed it out. “Well, that is odd. He signed it, ‘Sincerely Yours, B’.”
Viola’s eyes widened.
“I am unsure how to chasten you. Do you prefer Lady Viola or Posey? You do have feelings for him.” Ruby grasped Vi’s hand, crumpling the letter as their fingers intertwined. “Oh, when do you plan to leave?”
“I will do no such thing . . . I cannot do such a thing!”
“But this is exactly that thing we have been talking about. A way to save Foldger’s Foals.”
“The cost would be too great.”
“What other choice do we have? If you plan to keep Foldger’s Foals open and keep your dependent’s funded, you must go.”
Viola stood. She needed to move to release the pent-up agitation that threatened to cripple her. When she disengaged her hands from Ruby’s fingers, Brock’s letter stuck between her own. It was true: She needed to keep her business afloat. She had many people depending on her. Then again, she never anticipated returning to London to face the people who had sent her fleeing in her youth. The ton didn’t believe people could change, as she had. Could she sneak into London, attend the meeting, and leave just as silently? Would she know the gentlemen? There were too many risks involved.
She paced from the sofa to the fireplace and back again before another knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Vi called.
Connor strolled into the room and bowed slightly to Vi and then Ruby. “Ladies. I trust your day is going well.”
His tone irked Vi. He sounded almost jovial as she and Ruby debated the fate of Foldger’s Foals.
“I have finished the chores on the ranch. Is there anything else you require of me?” Connor asked.
An idea sparked in her mind. Why had she not thought of it before? “As a matter of fact, I do have another assignment for you.”
“Anything, my lady.”
“I will need you to travel to London and meet with a few potential clients.”
“Vi—” Ruby started.
“Of course. I have been eager to return to London and check on Alexander at his new post.”
Vi avoided eye contact with Ruby, her disapproval evident from her heavy breathing. “I will need you to leave immediately. Is that a problem?”
“No. I will go prepare.” Connor executed another small bow to both women and turned to leave the room.
“Connor?” Vi stopped him and he turned back to face her. “I will need you to drop off an envelope for me while in town.”
“My pleasure.”
He left the room.
Viola turned to Ruby and knew from the look on her friend’s face that they had much to discuss. “What?” Vi asked.
“Why ever would you send Mr. Cale when I know you wish to see Brock?”
“Because I am not willing to risk everything I have attained in the last eight years for the chance to be in a man’s presence for a few hours. Need I list all the other reasons I cannot travel to London?” Viola held up her open hand, fingers outstretched, and counted off her reasons. “Number one: I gave him a false name. Number two: Not one person in polite society would entertain my return to town, and number three—Rodney.” Vi shut her mouth so quickly she bit her lip.
Ruby’s eyes narrowed. “Rodney . . . Mr. Swiftenberg? Whatever does that dandified man have to do with your decision not to meet Brock in London?”
“Did I say Rodney? I meant—”
“You are a terrible liar.”
Vi sighed and sank into the chair next to the ornately carved fireplace. Curse Ruby for knowing her so well.
“What are you not telling me?” Ruby asked.
“Just as you know Brock, Harold, and Rodney from your childhood, so do I have a history of sorts with Rodney.” She only debated for a moment before deciding to tell Ruby everything. There was no real reason she hadn’t told her the day everything happened; there was certainly no point in holding back now. “Rodney was there that day.”
“Are we talking about the day? You’ve made it clear you never wish to speak of that day.”
It was true, Viola had hoped leaving London and starting a new life would put that dreadful day behind her, but wherever she went, her past was not far behind. She’d spent the last eight years running from what she’d done.
Vi’s silence must have encouraged Ruby to continue her line of questioning. “Did he speak with you the day they came here? That is highly improper.”
“Yes, we spoke privately, but the only improper thing that occurred was him threatening me to stay away from his cousin.”
“He obviously knew you did not seek Brock out, and had no future plans to cultivate your relationship with him.” It was Ruby’s turn to rise from her seat and pace.
“Well, of course that is what I said. We both know the man will hate me if he ever learns my true name. . . . If I were him I would hate me, as well.”
“Tis sad, is it not that, people do not believe in the power of change?”
“Some days I wonder what the point of changing was—except I could not have lived long with myself.”
“Do not pity yourself—it’s unbecoming. I do hope you put Rodney in his place.”
“There was no point in it. I hope to never see that insufferable man again.” Viola picked up her needlepoint and set back to work.
Never seeing the man would be too soon, indeed. And she most definitely never planned to see Rodney again, his wrath was not something she’d anticipate experiencing. Connor would do a fine job of representing Foldger’s Foals in London, after all, his livelihood depended on the business’ success just as much, if not more, than Vi’s did.
She’d never truly thought of what Connor would do without his position and salary. Did he have a family home to return to? A savings, even a meager one, to help him get by until he found another position?
Connor must know how important this meeting was to them all.