Page 31 of More or Less a Countess
It all made perfect sense to Violet, but Hyacinth was shaking her head. “That’s nonsense, Violet. Why, he’s just as likely to fall in love with you as he is to give up the courtship. You’re lovely, and so clever and funny and brave. Even a rogue like Lord Dare can’t fail to recognize that.”
Clever, funny, and brave—oh, my, yes. Those werejustthe qualities every gentleman wanted in a wife, especially the handsome, fashionable, titled ones. “Gentlemen don’t fall in love with me, Hyacinth. You know that.”
Hyacinth didn’t often get into a temper, but now her brows lowered into a dangerous scowl. “I don’t know any such thing! Just because Lord Derrick fell in love with Honora doesn’t meannogentleman will ever—”
Violet let out a quiet sigh. She didn’t wish to have this argument again, so she squeezed Hyacinth’s hand to hush her. “Perhaps some gentleman will, someday, but it won’t be Lord Dare. He’s…well, he’s not the sort of man who will ever admire a lady like me.”
Hyacinth’s lips turned down in a frown. “I don’t see why not.”
Violet didn’t answer, because her sister didn’t want to hear that a man like Lord Dare—a man with such remarkable gray eyes and such a perfect, playful smile—would never look twice at a bluestocking like her. He was the sort of man who belonged with the belle of her season, not an odd young lady with ink stains on her hands who preferred dusty libraries to elegant dance floors, and whose playing sounded like an elephant stomping over the pianoforte keys.
Violet had accepted herself for who she was long ago. She’d never wished to be anyone else, but she also tried not to indulge in fairy tales of true love. She’d only ever done so once, and it had led to a broken heart. She didn’t intend to make that mistake again.
Love might make fools of everyone else, but it wouldn’t make a fool of Violet.
Still, fate had offered her other gifts to compensate for the lack of romance, and if she was a bit selfish in pursuing her love of learning, well…she wasn’t any more selfish than any other young lady in love, was she?
“Lord Dare intends to call on me tomorrow, to inquire after my health.” Violet turned pleading eyes on her sister. “You’ll have to be gone by then, so he doesn’t see you, and you’ll need to make my excuses to Iris, as well.”
“You expect me to hide from Lord Dare so you can continue to lie to him?”
Violet bit her lip. It sounded rather bad when Hyacinth put it that way, but it wasn’t, really. She didn’t intend to hurt anyone, after all. Lord Dare would doubtless be irritated to find she’d tricked him, but it wasn’t as if she’d break his heart. The very idea was ludicrous.
“I wouldn’t put it like that, exactly. There’s no need to make it sound so underhanded.”
“But itisunderhanded, Violet! How would you put it?”
“I, ah—I simply need you to keep out of sight so he doesn’t discover there are two of us.”
Hyacinth’s lips pinched together. “That’s what I said. You expect me to hide from Lord Dare so you can continue to lie to him. Why can’t you just confess the truth, beg his pardon, and send him on his way? He won’t want either of us once he discovers you’ve deceived him.”
Violet shot her sister a guilty look. “I can’t. I need him.”
Hyacinth groaned, and let her head fall into her hands. “I don’t suppose I have to ask for what. It’s the book, of course. He’ll think he’s courting you, when really you’re just keeping him about to scare off the footpads.”
“Something like that,” Violet admitted, an uncomfortable pang of guilt piercing her chest. Lord Dare really had done her a good turn tonight. She’d been terrified when she felt that blackguard’s hand close around her throat. There was no telling what might have happened if Lord Dare hadn’t defended her, and then he’d been so chivalrous about fetching her sketchbook…
Rake or not, didn’t he deserve better than to be lied to?
Hyacinth seemed to think so, because she was gaping at Violet with a horrified expression. “I’m shocked at you, Violet! My goodness, the lying is bad enough, but to use a gentleman in such a way? It’s not like you to be so devious.”
Heat rose in Violet’s cheeks, but at the same time a rebellious spark flickered to life in her chest. “I don’t see how my behavior is any more devious than that of the young ladies who crowd Almack’s in search of a wealthy aristocrat.”
Ladies all over England married gentlemen for their titles and fortunes—didn’t that also amount to using them? Why should she be held to a higher standard than other young ladies were, simply because her goals were different? And anyway, in a just society she wouldn’t need Lord Dare at all. It wasn’t her fault ladies weren’t permitted to go about the city as they pleased.
“I don’t care about other young ladies, Violet. I only care about you, and this preoccupation you have with your book is…well, as lovely as your book is, I’m afraid you’re hiding behind it.”
Violet tensed. Hyacinth had never said such a thing to her before. “How am I hiding?”
“After what happened last season, and then Lord Derrick…” Hyacinth sighed. “You’re afraid of getting hurt again, but don’t you see? A book is paper and ink only—it can never take the place of real life, Violet. You’ll only hurt yourself if you try and make it do so, and you’ll hurt those who care about you, as well.”
A bitter laugh rose in Violet’s throat. Perhaps Hyacinth was right—perhaps she was hiding behind her book, but it seemed she was destined to be hurt no matter what she did, and she’d rather bleed from her own hand than someone else’s, and Hyacinth should know better than to think Violet would ever hurt her family.
“No one will get hurt, Hyacinth. I promise you.”
“You can’t make that promise, Violet. Even if Lord Dare doesn’t come to care for you, what of our grandmother? She’ll be terribly upset if she finds out you’ve been sneaking around behind her back, and what am I meant to say to Iris when you don’t come with me tomorrow? Do you expect me to lie to our sister, too?”
“Grandmother won’t find out. Please, Hyacinth. I only need a week or two to get the sketches for the rest of the book. I’ll be done before she ever returns to London. As for Iris, just tell her I stayed behind to work on the book, and that I’ll be along later in the afternoon. It’s not a lie, after all.”
