CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“How long do you plan to make your father wait?” Ruby asked.
“I’ve no idea what you are referring to.” Had she been that easy to read? Viola had thought she’d been extremely subtle in delaying their departure for London.
“Truly? First, you insisted your father rest for a few days before our journey.” Ruby held up her fingers to check off Vi’s transgressions. “Next, you insist on seeing the sale of Foldger’s Foals through. And lastly, you demanded his barouche be brought from London to transport us.”
Vi avoided eye contact with her friend. “I only thought the journey would be made more comfortable for him in the barouche.” Maybe her actions had been a bit obvious, at least to Ruby, who had spent so many years with only Vi as a companion.
Ruby sighed.
Viola had no other choice but to meet her gaze.
“Your petty behavior may fool your father, but not I,” she scolded. “How dare you jeopardize all your hard work? Is this the impression you seek to make once we arrive in London? Still the selfish, self-absorbed debutante who caused the deaths of two young men?”
The comment stung and Vi wanted to scream that that was not what she wanted.
“You must make a decision, because once we arrive it is not only your reputation—or what is left of it—in jeopardy, but mine. If you are not going to be the person I know you to be, I will cry off and return to my own home.” The conviction in Ruby’s voice scared Vi. “Tell me you will take this seriously and give yourself a fair chance at a better future.”
“And if I do choose to be the old Lady Viola—is it your intention to abandon me?” She knew she was being unfair. Ruby didn’t deserve such an ultimatum, especially from Viola.
Ruby grimaced, her expression pained.
“Ruby, I did not—”
She waved her hand, cutting short Vi’s words. “Do not apologize for a question you are not sorry for asking.” Hard eyes met Vi’s and she continued. “Be advised that I could have forsaken you long ago. When I learned of your misdeeds, I could have written my mother and begged off from Foldger’s Hall, but I did not.”
Viola brushed away the tear that streaked down her cheek.
“I recognized the kindred spirit in you, so I stayed. It turned out to be the best decision my mother ever made on my behalf.” Ruby’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, mirroring Vi’s own.
“What shall I do now?” Vi asked. “My father must think the worst of me.”
Ruby shook her head. “No, he too has seen your transformation. It is Lady Darlingiver who has her concerns. And rightly so, I might add.”
The skepticism the woman held about Vi’s ability to win over the ton once more was no secret. “I care not what she thinks of me—or what the ton thinks of me, for that matter.”
“While I do not believe you in the slightest, I do have—”
The door to the morning room opened and the butler bowed low, first to Vi and then to Ruby. “Lady Viola, the post has arrived.” On his silver platter were several envelopes.
She took the offering and thanked him.
“Is there anything else, my lady?” he asked before he departed.
“No, thank you.” Vi flipped though the letters. Several were addressed to Foldger’s Foals, and were likely notes of condolence posted from former customers throughout England. The last was marked with a London address. One she remembered seeing once before.
“This one is from Brock.” Her words escaped on a sigh.
Ruby sat up excitedly, their earlier conversation forgotten. “Do open it.” She fairly bounced in her seat.
Vi slid her finger under the embossed wax seal. With a small tug, the H-shaped seal cracked and the envelope fell open, revealing a neatly folded letter. The parchment felt crisp and fresh in her hand as she unfolded it.
“Do get on with it.” Ruby scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned precariously close to Vi.
The letter held the usual condolences and good tidings for her future, nothing more.
“I am unsure what I expected…”
Ruby seized the letter from her hand. “Well, this states his regret that Foldger’s Foals is closing, but just a moment…” She leaned past Vi and grabbed the discarded envelope on the table. “We may be in trouble.”
“Whatever are you talking about?”
Ruby held up the confiscated envelope
Viola gasped.
Ruby nodded.
They certainly were in trouble.
The envelope had been addressed to none other than Lady Viola Oberbrook.
“Do you think he…?” Viola stopped. Certainly Brock would not have gone to the gossipmongers with her secret…would he? It was true, she did not know him or what he was capable of, but he should certainly hate her. He had every right to curse her name venomously to any person who would listen. Viola stood, the post slipping from her lap unnoticed. “Ruby, prepare yourself. We leave for London first thing on the morrow.”
Her friend only raised an eyebrow.
“His letter is addressed from London. If we hurry, we can waylay him while he is still in town.” The wheels were turning in her head. “He will definitely not expect me to travel to London.”
“You cannot be thinking he is responsible.”
She hadn’t the faintest idea what to think. “Do you have a better explanation?” When Ruby didn’t respond, Vi continued. “There is no one else. We were very careful. Do you not see the coincidence that Brock shows up here unannounced, and then all of London is abuzz?” Viola’s hands rested on her hips, her stance wide as if ready for a confrontation.
“Your father will be in high spirits with this change in plans.” Ruby handed the letter back. “I will ready my things.”
Vi pulled the bell cord to summon the housekeeper after Ruby closed the door.
If they hurried, Lord Haversham would not have departed town. She counted on his assumption that she would keep herself hidden away in the country, fearful of traveling to London to confront him.
While she waited, her thoughts ran to their second meeting, when he had come to collect his stock. Had he known then? Had he lured her into kissing him?
And what about that night—in the rain. Surely he knew, yet he said nothing once again. But damn him for saving her from further harm. That night had run threw her mind a thousand times since. She’d argued with her father and in her haste had fled the house in nothing more than her cloak for protection. The wind and rain had seemingly come from nowhere, taking her by surprise. Or had she been so distracted, heavy-hearted, that she’d failed to notice?
If she had stayed, engaged Brock in conversation, would he have told her all? Scolded her not only for her reckless behavior that night but also for her misconduct in her youth?
Did he seek to further embarrass her? How dare he! If she was her seventeen-year-old self, she just might have challenged him to a duel to defend her father’s name. Fortunately for him, she had grown up and did not have a violent tendency.
“Lady Viola?”
Viola looked up to see Mrs. Dale standing in the open doorway. “Oh, pardon my distraction. Can you inform my father that tomorrow morning will be perfect for our journey to London?”
The housekeeper immediately dropped into a curtsey. “Of course.”
If he thought she would cower in the country while society talked ill of her family, Lord Haversham had another thing coming. And if he entertained the idea that she was the same girl who’d turned coat and fled all those years ago, he would be shocked to find out the extent of her transformation.