Arrogance, I do not particularly care for your opinion on the matter.” This hurt beyond bearing. She pivoted, blinking back rising tears. “
He grasped her wrist and pulled her to a halt and lifted her fingers to his mouth.
“Someday a man who deserves you will come around, Viola Carlyle.” His voice was low. “Do not settle for less.” He kissed her knuckles, then her brow. She gulped in the scent of him, his nearness and everything she dreamed of. He released her, then turned and strode toward the stable.
Viola went inside the house, locked herself in her bedchamber, and wept tears enough to fill the Atlantic basin.
Chapter 28
With Jane’s starchy assistance Viola managed to make her puffy eyes and pale face look presentable enough to join her sister and the others the following morning for breakfast.
“Is your megrim improved, Miss Carlyle?” Caitria asked kindly. “Lady Fiona and Lady Savege have worried about you. Mama and I too. And my brother, of course.”
Viola glanced at Aidan across the dining room. He looked tired, but he offered her a tentative smile.
Later, he found her alone in the library.
“I suppose a rainy day calls for a good book and a pot of tea,” he said as he came toward her.
She closed the volume she hadn’t read a word of in an hour and watched him take a seat on the chair beside hers. He was comfortable, decent, and she understood now finally why she had believed she loved him all those years; she’d needed a friend and hadn’t known what love truly was.
“What are you reading?” He drew the book from her hands and flipped open the cover. “Virgil? Isn’t this Latin?”
“Oh, is it?” She untucked her feet from beneath her and smoothed out her skirt. It was wrinkled, but she didn’t care.
He set down the book and reached for her hand.
“Viola, this is a terrible time for us all, with what Seamus did and how he is paying for it. I have asked Lady Savege’s pardon for bringing my cousin into her home, and she has been forgiving. But…”
“But?” She didn’t care what he had come to say. Mostly she wished he would leave her to solitude. Somewhere about the house Lady Fiona and Madame Roche were teaching Caitria how to braid rushes in the French style, Lady Emily no doubt sitting nearby with a book making clever comments. Her sister would be in the nursery with the baby. But she only wanted to be alone to lick her wound that would never heal.
His fingers tightened around hers. “Viola, Seamus will not be returning to the Indies with me. Nevertheless I must be on that boat when it leaves Bristol in six days. I want you to be with me. As my wife.”
“You are asking me to marry you now? To
“I know it has been a long wait for us. But I have always known you would be my wife, Viola. Always.”
She drew her hand away. “Aidan, why did you leave Trinidad two and a half months ago? I imagine it was difficult leaving the repairs and new building in another man’s hands. Honestly, it surprised me that so abruptly you decided to visit your family.”
His eyes crinkled in a tender look. “You must know that I came here because I did not wish to be apart from you.”
“After all those years of being apart, suddenly you could not tolerate it?” She frowned. “Did my father lend you the money for your farm on the condition that you would marry me and bring me back to England to live?”
His face slackened.
She stood, feet sore, heart sore, uncertain that any man could be trusted not to lie to her. They would all use her for their own purposes. Her father had used her for bait to win back his lover. The baron was now trying to use her to enliven the memory of that same woman. And Jin had used her for gain, and for pleasure. That she had wanted him to did not exonerate him. It only made her a tragic fool.
“That day at the inn in Port of Spain before you apologized to me about kissing Miss Hat and assured me of your lasting devotion, Jin told you the truth about my family. My whole family. Didn’t he?”
He came to his feet. “Violet, I have loved you since you were a girl, and yes, I promised Fionn to bring you to live in England, but I had no idea of your family then and I would have wed you still. What does it matter?” He gestured impatiently. “Marry me and let us put the past behind us now and make a new future together.”
Her throat was thick but her eyes dry.
“No, Aidan. I do not wish to marry you. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am not the same girl who followed you about deck ten years ago. I have changed.”
“I see,” he finally said, brow pleated. “Then I have lost my opportunity. I acted too late.”
She needn’t respond.
“If you wish to be rid of me,” he said stiffly, “I can be on my way this afternoon. My parents and Caitria must remain until Seamus is well enough to travel. But I will go if you wish it.”
“You needn’t.” In truth, she didn’t care where he was. He nodded reluctantly and left the library.
But his stiffness persisted and she didn’t care about that either. After two days, she greeted with relief Serena’s suggestion that they all remove to town.
“You will not miss Papa too much?”
“A little. But, Ser, he is… clingy.”
“Clingy? Is that another delightful Americanism?”
“Aren’t you impressed with my accent lately? I sound fabulously English.” She attempted a smile, but Serena’s clever gaze studied her a bit too intently.
She turned away. “When will we leave?”
“Tuesday. Fiona and Emily and Madame Roche are no doubt eager to return to town as well. Tracy will come with us and we will make a party of it.”
“It sounds delightful.”
She watched Aidan ride off down the drive alone. He had gone sanguinely, in the end accepting her refusal with resignation. Despite his broken bones and raw wounds, Seamus refused to remain after his cousin left, and the Castle family departed.
The following day five carriages laden with servants, gentlemen, ladies, and Viola started on their way to London. She had seen a little of the countryside during the rushed drive from Exmouth to Savege Park. Now they took the journey in slow stages, pausing at charming inns along the route and dining merrily each evening, all as if it were some sort of holiday. After the first day Viola managed to claim the carriage with Lady Emily each time, whose nose in her book and lack of conversation made the trip bearable.
London was to Boston what Savege Park had been to Aidan’s plantation. Sprawling, with endless streets and countless people and every sound imaginable-from animals’ snorts and neighs to the clatter of carriages and the shouts of vendors. Thick with coal-scented air, it teemed with motion and life. She stared out the window, pulling off her shawl and peeling away her gloves from sticky palms.
“The air in town is remarkably insalubrious this early in the autumn, Miss Carlyle,” Lady Emily said, finally closing her book, her green eyes bright. “But there are a great many places a lady may enjoy the finer pleasures of life.”
“Lady Fiona told me about Gunter’s confectioner’s shop,” she said distractedly. Far to the right the unmistakable points of ship masts clustered beyond the roof of a building. A trickle of relief went through her. London was not all alien.
“I meant museums and scientific exhibits and lectures, of course.”
“Are we near the river? I see ships.”
“Several blocks to the north. Are you fond of sailing, Miss Carlyle?”
“A little.”
A grand, elegant, and astoundingly large abode, Alex and Serena’s house sat on a corner of a square and seemed a veritable mansion. It boasted two parlors, a receiving room, a drawing room, dining room, broad foyer, a
