“Floating,” Rose echoed, and though Violet’s lids were closed, she could swear she saw her sister’s head nod knowingly. “Floating in a dream is supposed to be sensual in nature.”
“Rose!” Violet’s eyes flew open. “You are far too young to be saying such things!”
Rose raised a brow. ”Yet somehow old enough for you to show me Aristotle’s Master-piece?”
“I didn’t show it to you. You barged in on me reading it, and then you blackmailed me!”
She shrugged with profound unconcern. “Let’s read some more of it.”
“Not now,” Lily said, giving Rose a little shove. “I want to hear the rest of the dream.”
“All right.” Violet swallowed and rubbed her suddenly damp palms against her night rail-clad knees. “Ford’s carriage is rather ancient, as you know, but instead of the old leather, the interior was all plush red velvet. And I was leaning back against a cushion, and he was kissing me—”
“Did he kiss you really?” Lily sat up eagerly.
“He already kissed her,” Rose said. “In the library.”
Lily turned on the bed to face her. “That doesn’t count. You described it to me in detail, and it was a little peck, not a real kiss.” She shifted back to Violet. “Did he give you a real kiss in the carriage?”
“Well,” Violet hedged, alarmed to learn that Rose had been watching her in the library, “not on the way home. Lord and Lady Ailesbury begged a ride, and since they only live around the corner, we had no time alone together.”
“But after you dropped them off?” Rose pressed.
“The street out front is very rutted, you know—the springs in that old carriage might as well be nonexistent.”
“But he tried.” Rose’s gaze was much too piercing for Violet’s comfort. “Or he kissed you earlier, didn’t he? At the ball. Or later, when he saw you to the door.”
Violet looked away.
“Or both!” Rose concluded. “I knew it!”
Lily laid a graceful hand on the white cotton that covered her chest. “Goodness.” A theatrical sigh escaped her lips. “What was it like?”
“I never said he kissed me.”
Her two very different sisters fixed her with matching, demanding glares. Rose spoke for both. “Let’s hear it, Violet.”
“Oh, all right.” Violet crossed her legs and leaned forward conspiratorially. “It was very nice.”
“Nice?” Rose folded her arms.
“It was more than nice. It was marvelous.” Warming to her subject, Violet’s voice gentled. “The most amazing feeling. It made my head spin and my heart beat fast. His lips felt warm and squashy—”
“Squashy?” Lily looked taken aback.
Rose cocked her head. “Like an overripe peach?”
“Certainly not. More like…I don’t know…” Violet wracked her brains. “A hard-boiled egg?”
“An egg?” Lily’s fingers flew to touch her own lips. “I dislike eggs.”
“The white part or the yellow part?” Rose asked.
“Both!”
“No, I was asking Violet if his lips felt like—”
“Never mind!” Violet shouted over the din. “Forget about eggs. His lips were soft, all right? Warm and soft.”
“Oh. That sounds nice.” Lily’s eyes softened to a hazy blue.
“Gemini.” Rose fanned herself with a hand. “I must find someone to kiss. Tomorrow.”
Violet reached out and caught her wrist. “No, you mustn’t. You must care for someone before you kiss him.”
Lily gave another dreamy sigh. “Oh, Violet, that’s so romantic.”
That was taking things a bit too far. “It’s over now. We’re going home tomorrow, and he’s staying here to meet with his solicitor. And even after he returns to Lakefield, Jewel has gone home, so there’s no longer any reason for me to visit.”
“But you care for him. You just said so. And since he kissed you, he’ll be asking you to wed him, will he not?”
“It doesn’t always work like that, Lily. Some gentlemen don’t put such store behind a kiss. The Master-piece says that marriage is meant to restrain man’s wandering desires and affections.”
Lily frowned. “Does that mean all men prefer to keep wandering?”
“I’m not sure. But he won’t be asking me to marry him.”
“But if he did?” Rose pressed. “That would be splendid, wouldn’t it?”
“No,” Violet said flatly. “If he’s making a show of courting me, you can be certain it’s because of my inheritance. And I won’t marry for anything less than true love.”
“But Violet.” Concern filled Lily’s earnest gaze. “You must care. Or you wouldn’t have kissed him. You said a lady must care for a man before she—”
“I’m not looking for one-sided love, Lily. If I cannot have a love like Mum’s, then I’d rather live life on my own.” She turned to Rose. “And you can stop worrying—I don’t care if you marry before me. I don’t care if I marry at all.” And because that suddenly wasn’t true, she made a big show of yawning. “It’s very late. I have much to tell you both about the ball, and especially Mr. Locke, but it will have to wait until morning.”
Lily rose and placed a sisterly kiss on her cheek. “I would love to hear it all, Violet.”
Rose’s kiss wasn’t nearly as sweet. “I don’t care about Mr. Locke,” she said, “but you should marry Lord Lakefield.”
Long after her sisters had left, Violet lay awake, her heart and mind in turmoil.
THIRTY-SEVEN
LAKEFIELD HOUSE was quiet. Too quiet.
Hilda and Harry knew better than to disturb Ford when he was working, but Jewel had never quite mastered that bit of etiquette. Now Ford found his gaze straying toward the door, waiting for his niece to burst through, a grin on her heart-shaped face and a ribbon clenched in her diminutive fist.
Or a dead insect. One never quite knew what to expect from Lady Jewel.
But the one thing he hadn’t expected was to feel this sudden loneliness. Emptiness. For pity’s sake, he missed her.
Ford Chase missed a child.
Whoever would have thought? Wasn’t a family of his own the last item on his list of priorities? Though he’d always known he must have children eventually—Lakefield would need an heir, after all—he’d never been able to envision them in his life. Having a family had seemed so dreadfully adult.
But now,
