Theo sat in his room, wondering what made Lady Violette so blasted interesting. She was the sort of proper lady he’d be best to avoid. A mother and daughter of Violette’s age travelling to an appointment likely meant she was attempting to make a match.

He shuddered. Not because Violette wasn’t attractive. Some man would be fortunate to have a bride like her. Just not him.

But he’d gone and requested they have dinner together despite knowing it was a wretched idea. He should have said his thanks and goodbyes and never looked into the deep brown eyes of Lady Violette again.

Those eyes were one of the features that made her dangerous. Along with her plump lips and the vulnerable tilt to her chin.

Underneath all of that however, was something else, though she’d done her best to hide it. He didn’t yet know what it was but he was drawn to whatever she kept guarded under the very proper tilt to her chin.

He pulled the bell cord next to the door, hoping to have a scotch brought to the room. Perhaps it would provide some clarity or at least a little relief from his thoughts.

Two drinks later, he found himself at the table across from the ladies. Both silently watching him. They’d already exchanged greetings and commented on the continuing rain and now they seemed to have run out of topics to discuss.

Violette had on a simple gown of sturdy wool, but it fit her well. In addition to her lovely face, her figure could tempt a saint. He closed his eyes for a moment. I’m no saint.

When he opened them again, it was to find her eyes upon him, her brow crinkled just a touch as if she were puzzling something out. As soon as he met her gaze, a blush stained her cheeks and she averted her eyes. She made a man want to chase her. “Lady Violette,” he began, not certain what he wanted to say. “Have you participated in a formal season?”

She gave a soft shake of her head. Of course she hadn’t. Her mother would not be charging for carriage rides if she could afford to outfit her daughter for society. “No, Mr. Riley. This might have been my first season but my family has chosen a different direction for me.”

The statement told him several interesting pieces of information. She was eighteen or possibly nineteen. It wasn’t her choice to not partake in the season and likely not her choice to marry. It only intensified his curiosity. What was it she’d like to be doing? “I see.” He gave her a short nod. “I myself would not be here but my family has requested I return home.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned in just a little. It only made her more beautiful. “Where were you that you must return?”

“Barbados.” He gave her the tiniest wink as her eyebrows flew up and her mouth parted. Damnation, the woman was tempting.

“How delightful.” She gave a tinkling laugh, coming alive before him. “Tell me what it’s like.”

He chuckled despite himself, her enthusiasm infectious and interesting. He’d discovered another facet of her. A frightened doe turned adventurer. “It’s wonderful. Warm, bright, sunny. There is often an ocean breeze so as not to be too hot. I have to confess, I should have taken a carriage today. I’d forgotten how often it rains here.”

She let out the softest sigh. He wanted to stroke the column of her neck and feel that breath vibrate through his fingers while it blew across his cheek. “It would be wonderful to see such a place.”

“Violette,” her mother interrupted. There was a chastisement in the tone and Violette immediately straightened away from him. All affect returned to what it had previously been. Before him once again sat a perfect lady.

He swallowed, clearing the rest of the words he’d wanted to share about Barbados out of his mouth. It would only do to upset Lady Bradford and make Violette more at odds with her mother. “A lady like you would have a dreadful time keeping her skin that lovely shade of ivory in such a place. The sun can be relentless.”

She dipped her chin in acknowledgement and silence fell again. He searched his mind for an acceptable topic. He wished, for the first time in years, that he was at a ball. He’d never had much patience for those sorts of affairs, but he’d gladly dance with Violette. Rather than talk, he could imagine holding her in his arms, the feel of her tiny waist clasped in his hand.

“Did you have a particular reason for being in Barbados?” Violette asked, her voice even, more reserved than it had been before.

“One of my investments is a sugar plantation,” he answered. “I went down a few years ago to check on its operation and found the weather suited me.”

“How delightful,” Mrs. Bradford said. It was the older woman’s turn to lean in. “One of your investments, Mr. Riley? Do you have many?”

Her sudden attention made Theo clear his throat. They most certainly were trying to make a match, or Lady Bradford was, and she was now considering him an option. Her interest had perked up the moment he’d mentioned having an income. “I have a small shipping company I’m building on the islands as well.”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes keen upon him. He was glad when the innkeeper brought their plates of food. “How convenient to not have to pay someone else to ship your goods. Very economical.”

It was. He had several other ventures as well, though it didn’t seem prudent to mention them. He’d peaked Lady Bradford’s interest enough. “Quite.”

“Tell me, Mr. Riley.” Lady Bradford hardly touched her food as she cocked her head to one side to assess him. “Are you married? Have any children?”

Here it was. Did he lie? Make up a wife? But he glanced over at Violette to find her gaze also fixed on him. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. “No, my lady, I am not.”

Lady Bradford’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” Her lips curved into a small smile. “A man with your business holdings must want an heir.”

“My mother certainly thinks so.” He took a bite of his food, hoping to end the conversation. He had no intention of allowing a marriage-minded mother to try and coerce him into a match. He had his own mother for that.

“She’s right, of course.” Mrs. Bradford nodded, agreeing with her own point. “And the right wife could increase your business holdings and standing in society all the while aiding you…personally.”

His lamb stuck in his throat. The words were suggestive but he had a sudden image of Violette’s more personal attentions. He’d only just met the woman. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

Three men walked into the tavern. The tallest swept the room with his gaze and then stopped on Violette. He understood the man’s interest. She was lovely but all the same, such attention was rude at best.

They took a table just behind Violette, with the tallest staring at her back. Theo looked to her. Her posture was still perfect, but her mouth had turned down. She took a delicate bite of her food and then gave a subtle glance backward.

All three men had turned to her. He didn’t want to think about what he was about to do. “Darling,” he rumbled and all three sets of male eyes focused on him. “How’s your dinner?”

Both women started in surprise, but Violette recovered first. “Quite good.” Her brown eyes held his, a question turning down the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.”

He gave a nod and then glared at the largest man in the group. Their attention was too focused and he wanted them to know he could and would challenge them. The other man stared at him for several seconds before finally looking away.

They finished their meal in silence and then Theo tossed several coins on the table. As they stood, Theo circled the table offering Violette his arm. He’d worry about the ladies’ expectations from his words and actions later.

Violette slipped her hand into the crook of his arm feeling the muscle that lay underneath. The touch made her flutter inside. Those men had been looking at her. Their unwarranted attention had, quite frankly, filled her with discomfort. She had appreciated Mr. Riley’s intervention, though just hours ago he’d been the man she had been concerned about. Odd how quickly that had changed. Now, she felt safe in his company. Protected.

Her mother apparently approved of him as well. She was attempting to secure another meeting with him to assess him as a suitor. Her mother had wanted a titled gentleman. One who would raise their social standing but, as their funds diminished, she was sure her mother would consider someone who could help carry their financial burden.

She gave him a sideways glance and her insides fluttered again. He was tall and handsome, strong, with just a touch of danger about him, or perhaps it was simply excitement that he exuded.

But he was not interested in getting a wife. Or perhaps just not her. It had been in his words, the way he’d slumped back in his chair as her mother prodded.

She understood. He was free to travel the world, move to Barbados. Why would he want to be saddled with a wife, and then children, along with her family? Her sister would need a suitable dowry in order to make a match, her brother help with his earldom. Frankly, she’d be fortunate if any man agreed to take on her troubles.

They approached her door and she turned to Mr. Riley. There weren’t words to express that she understood he wouldn’t want her and how she appreciated his help this evening. “Thank you for a lovely meal.”

He gave a terse nod. “And you as well.”

As she inserted her key into the lock, he turned on heel and disappeared down the hall. Her mother followed her into her own room, which didn’t surprise Violette in the least. Their rooms connected and her mother would want to discuss the evening. “What did you think of him, darling?” Her mother smiled as she used Violette’s pet name.

“Don’t be silly mother.” She set the key on the desk and then settled herself in a chair. “He doesn’t want to marry; it was in every word he didn’t say.”

Her mother gave her a pointed look. “Men never want to marry. And he is interested in you. Did you hear the way he defended you?”

Violette tried not to huff. “He only said that because of the gentlemen behind me.”

“Jealousy is the first clear sign of interest.” Her mother gave her a knowing smile.

Violette took a steadying breath. “We’ve two appointments already.”

Her mother crossed to where she sat and took the chair opposite her. “A woman can’t have too many options. I can see by the cut of his coat, the quality of his horse, that he is successful. I know he isn’t titled but he might make a better match for you in several ways. I know you’ve wished to travel and he’s quite handsome. You could be happy.”

Violette blinked, then blinked again, a few tears stinging her eyes. Was her mother concerned about her future? About her happiness?

She stood, wishing to hug her mother, but the other woman held up her hand. “Don’t get all sentimental. If the Duke of Waverly offers, we will take it and not look back.”

Violette sat again, her momentary bout of emotion tucked back under its lid, the thought of the unknown duke stealing all her excitement. What would the Duke of Waverly look like or be like that she was his first option? It nearly made her shudder. “I understand,” she whispered.

Her mother gave a tense nod. “I know you are making great sacrifices for all of us.”

Violette waved her hand. “It’s all right.” Then she turned her face away. “I am tired after a long day of travel. If you don’t mind, I think I shall retire.”

Her mother stood. “Of course. I will see you in the morning.”

Violette waited until the door closed and then she slumped back in her chair. She’d like to toss it across the room. Instead, she rose and began undoing the buttons of her dress. Perhaps being out of this clothing would make her feel less trapped.

But it didn’t help. It wasn’t the dress that was making her skin itch, it was her destiny. After taking off her layers of clothing, she pulled the pins from her hair and raked the brush through her long dark tresses. It pulled at her scalp but she didn’t stop. In fact, the pain was an outlet for her frustration. She changed into her night rail, then crossed the room to braid her hair. It was a routine she followed most every day. They’d let go most of their servants and she found she liked attending herself.

Tonight, however, as she twisted her hair into submission, she dropped the brush on the hardwood floor. Letting out a cry of annoyance, she swooped down to pick it up. Her future didn’t normally irritate her so much but something about meeting Mr. Riley had stirred her longing for more. Then her mother had to go and dangle the possibility in front of her before pulling it away again. She snapped up the brush, and bumped her head on the dressing table as she moved to stand again.

“Bullocks,” she cursed, a good deal louder than she’d meant to. She rarely used such words but she couldn’t seem to hold it in tonight. The bump smarted terribly, making her even more frustrated.

A soft knock sounded at the door and she said another curse, mentally, anyhow. Her mother had likely heard her and was, at this very moment, preparing another lecture on ladylike decorum. But the next sound stopped her dead. Mr. Riley called from the hall. “Violette. Are you all right?”

She jumped up from where she sat. “Fine.” She stood next to the desk, her limbs filled with unused energy, not sure if she should race to the door or sit back in the chair.

“Are you sure?” he called again. “That was a very loud thump.”

She began crossing the room. “It was just my brush.”

“And then your head.” He chuckled. “I know the difference. I’ve heard a good many sailors hit their heads. The beams on the ship are quite low.”

Well that was blasted convenient. She brushed her head to find a lump already forming. “I’m fine. I will seek my mother if I am not.”

“Should I get her?” he asked.

“No,” she called back, far too quickly. Her mother would have a great many questions as to why Mr. Riley knew she’d bumped her head. The last thing she wanted to do, as her temples began to throb, was answer them. She’d been with her mother enough for one day.

He twisted the knob. “Then open the door and let me have a look. Head injuries can be serious business.”

“No really, I am fine.” She’d reached the door then and she stood just on the other side imagining she could hear him breathe.

He was silent for a moment and then he said. “I’m afraid I either need to have a look or get your mother. Someone should attend you to be on the safe side.”

Her breath caught. She could not open the door for a man but she absolutely did not want to see her mother now. She couldn’t stand any more lectures today. “You’ll stay in the hall?”

“I just want to look,” he answered.

Turning the lock she slowly opened the door, hoping she wasn’t making a giant mistake.