Page 94 of More or Less a Countess
He was wildly, madly, frantically besotted with her. He could spend a lifetime with Violet and she’d never cease to surprise him. He could devote all his years to peeling back one intriguing layer after another in search of her elusive center, and she’d remain a mystery to him still, but he knew one thing with the kind of bone-deep certainty that wouldn’t be denied:
Hewasbesotted with her, and he had to tell her.
He’d been careful these past few weeks not to make promises to Violet he wasn’t certain he could keep. It was only in the past week he’d realized he’d never fully lose his grief over Graham. The memories of his father, the other ghosts that haunted him—he’d never be completely free of those demons. He’d carry some of that sorrow with him always.
And it didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was Violet, and she’d never asked him to be perfect. She’d never asked him to be anyone other than who he was. All she’d ever wanted was him.
He was hers. He had been from the start—he was just too confused to see it.
He belonged here, with her. She was his life now, and those distractions he’d thought so important at one time—his mistress, his villa in Italy—they’d never been anything more than pale substitutes for a life he’d thought he wasn’t worthy to live.
He’d wasted enough time on doubts and regrets. It was time for him to focus on his future with Violet, and even now his child might be growing in her belly…
“Never mind the cravat, Gibbs. I’ve changed my mind. I will go to Lady Dare at once. No breakfast.” Nick threw off the coverlet, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to see his wife. “Just a wash, and fetch my clothes. Oh, and Gibbs? That matter we discussed, about the surprise for Lady Dare? You’ve seen to the details?”
“Yes, my lord. The footmen will bring in the tables and shelving today, and the draperies and furnishings you requested.”
“Good. I’ll come see it this afternoon and give my final instructions. I intend to leave very early tomorrow for London, and I want the thing done before I go. I wish to present my gift to Lady Dare tomorrow night, when I return.”
“Yes, my lord. I believe she’ll be quite pleased with it.”
“Good man, Gibbs. I wouldn’t have trusted the thing to anyone else.”
“I—why, thank you, Lord Dare.”
Nick glanced up at the odd note in Gibbs’s voice, and his lips quirked. Dear God, it looked as if there was actually the hint of a smile on the old man’s face.
A brief silence fell, then Nick cleared his throat. “Ah, my clothing, if you would, Gibbs?”
Gibbs blinked, then recalled himself with a grimace. “Yes, of course. Right away, my lord.”
* * * *
“How much longer do you intend to keep up this charade, my dear?”
Violet didn’t like to lie to Lady Westcott, so she settled for feigned ignorance in place of a blatant falsehood. “Charade? What charade is that, my lady?” After all, Ashdown Park could be rife with charades Violet knew nothing about.
Lady Westcott crossed the room, sat down on the edge of the bed, and took Violet’s hand with a sigh. “My dear girl, it’s apparent to anyone who’s paying the least attention that you’re with child.”
Cold beads of sweat popped out on Violet’s forehead. If Lady Westcott had guessed her secret, then mustn’t Nick have guessed it as well, in spite of her silence on the subject? He hadn’t said a word to her, or even so much as hinted at it, but she spent nearly every moment with her husband, and God knew he paid attention to her.
A great deal of rather marked attention, indeed.
Lady Westcott went on as if she’d read Violet’s mind. “Nicholas is far from a neglectful husband. I daresay he’s well aware of your condition, but if not, then I imagine he must be concerned for your health by now. You don’t wish for him to worry about you, do you?”
“No. I wish nothing but happiness for Lord Dare, my lady.”
The trouble was, she wished for happiness forherselfas well, and all her happiness depended on Nick. And if Nick’s happiness should depend on an Italian villa furnished with a seductive Italian mistress, what then? All Violet’s hopes for a life with him would come crashing down the instant he discovered she was carrying his heir.
Lady Westcott patted her hand. “Then tell him, my dear. It’s such wonderful news. I’m certain he’ll be delighted.”
Violet didn’t doubt hewouldbe delighted. Delighted to escape England, and Ashdown Park, and a marriage that had disappointed him from the start.
Delighted to escapeher.
“Dash it, not again.” Violet wiped at her eyes with the back of a shaking hand. Dear God, she could hardly go an hour without becoming weepy and overwrought these days. She didn’t know whether it was the baby, or Nick, or if love reduced even the most unshakeable among them to whimpering fools, but she seemed to be forever dissolving into floods of tears, and that was to say nothing of the nausea and the dizziness.
