“Wherein our lovers make bold plans - and conflicting arrangements.”

 

Aubrey felt his breath catch as he turned and found himself face to face with the loveliest green eyes in the whole country.

“Violette!” he exclaimed, quite unable to keep the ridiculous grin from his face.

“I had to see you, Aubrey,” she said, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I-I’ve missed you terribly.”

He let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding, and a little of the tension that he’d carried for the last weeks fell away. He glanced around, knowing that people would be watching them, and no doubt her brother would discover them at any moment.

“My feelings haven’t changed, Violette,” he replied, the need to grasp her by the hand and run with her now, away from here, away from all of them, so fierce that he didn’t know how he stood still.

“How is your leg?” she asked, such concern in her eyes that his heart ached, and then he realised that running anywhere would be quite beyond him for several weeks yet. Reality had an uncanny knack of knocking his romantic imaginings off course.

“It’s mending well,” he said, smiling at her and wondering if she could tell that his heart was beating out of his chest. The urge to reach out a hand and touch her was so strong his skin ached with it. “The doctor thinks I won’t even limp in a few months, good as new,” he added, just in case she should be put off by the idea of it. He scolded himself for that, knowing that Violette was above such shallow thoughts.

“That’s wonderful,” she said, and then looked up at him through her lashes. “But you look rather distinguished with a cane, you know.”

He laughed then, wondering at her ability to always make him feel ten feet tall. He felt the overwhelming desire to prove to her just what he was capable of. His project was gaining momentum and he had a letter burning a hole in his pocket from Stephenson himself, inviting him to come and visit and see the locomotive and all of his plans. If only he had a little more time.

“I saw you dancing with Ranleigh,” he said, quite unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, and he studied her face as he spoke. He told himself that if he saw a trace of doubt, the slightest suggestion that she would favour the duke’s attentions, that he would leave her be. It was a lie, nonetheless. But at his words Violette just grinned at him.

“He’s a very charming man,” she said, with a mischievous glitter in her eyes. “But I still have every intention of being Mrs Russell one day. The Duchess of Ranleigh is such a mouthful, don’t you think?”

Aubrey stared at her, hardly able to speak past the lump in his throat.

“You’d make a wonderful duchess,” he replied, his voice soft, but Violette shook her head, her golden curls bouncing in a jaunty manner.

“No,” she said with a twisted smile and utter conviction. “I would make an appalling duchess, and well you know it.” The fact of it was given over with such a frank manner that he couldn’t help but laugh, and then she smiled. “But I plan on being a perfectly wonderful Mrs Russell,” she added in a breathless whisper.

Aubrey hoped that everything he felt was visible in his eyes as there were no adequate words to be found to reply to that statement.

“Oh,” she cried, her face falling and becoming the picture of indignation. “My brother is coming. I must leave now, but don’t give up on me, Aubrey.” She couldn’t say anymore as Aubrey could see the scowling face of Lord Winterbourne crossing the ballroom like an angry bear, and people scattered before him.

The big man drew level with Aubrey, his green eyes so like his sister’s but so very different too. These eyes seemed always full of anger. “Leave her alone,” he growled, his voice low. “She’s to marry Ranleigh.”

Aubrey stared up at the man, remembering with deep satisfaction the moment when he’d run the fellow head first into a wall. He only wished he could do it again.

“And what about what Lady Greyston wants?” Aubrey demanded as his own anger grew.

“She’s just a woman,” he replied with an impatient snap to the words. “She has no idea what is good for her. Ranleigh is a fine man and it’s a brilliant match. I won’t let you get in the way.”

Aubrey clenched his fists, every muscle tense with fury at this callous man and his power over Violette. “Don’t you care for her happiness at all?” he demanded, quite unable to withhold the fury from his voice.

Winterbourne stepped closer and Aubrey knew he should feel threatened. The man was a decorated war hero, a terrific swordsman, a superb shot, and he had a devastating right hook ... all of these things ought to give him pause, but he was far too angry now to give a damn.

“I care enough that she be well looked after and not married to a penniless rake with at least one bastard to his name. Ranleigh isn’t a monster, she’ll be happy enough,” Winterbourne barked, his green eyes flashing with the kind of fury that suggested he really might hit Aubrey, here in the middle of the ballroom.

“And that’s enough, is it?” Aubrey replied with a sneer, too angry to even bother to defend his own reputation. “That’s enough to convince you that you’ve done your duty to her as her guardian?”

“She’ll do exactly as I say and you ... you will not get in the way. That is an end to the matter!” The violence behind those words was quite stunning, but before Aubrey could reply, the marquess had turned on his heel and walked away.

***

“Are you really quite sure?”

Aubrey leaned a bit heavier on his cane as his leg began to throb, and nodded as he met his cousin’s concerned grey eyes. “Quite sure, Alex,” he said, even though just talking about it was making him feel perfectly nauseated.

Alex let out a breath, but to Aubrey’s relief, he didn’t reprimand him for being a fool, a scoundrel, or a black guard, anyone of which he would have admitted to feeling like.

Could he really do such a thing?

Glancing across the room he saw Violette in conversation once again with the handsome and sophisticated Duke of Ranleigh. If Aubrey was any kind of a man, perhaps he would do as her brother demanded and walk away. She would make the match of the season, a duchess no less. Except that he knew in his heart of hearts that Violette truly didn’t care for such things. She loved him. As extraordinary and ridiculous as it was, she said she loved him, and he believed her.

“There will be the devil of dust kicked up,” Alex warned, fixing Aubrey with a fierce look that was obviously meant to drill that fact home.

Aubrey swallowed. “I know it,” he replied, surprised that his voice sounded so sure and certain, when inwardly he was quailing like a blancmange. He took a breath and stiffened his spine. Violette was the bravest person he knew, so if he was to be worthy of her, he needed to buck up and take matters into his own hands.

“You’ll need a licence,” Alex mused, frowning as Aubrey grasped his arm and let out a sigh of relief.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Alex,” he replied, grinning like a madman.

“Somehow I feel I’m going to hear those words again after you demand for me to be your second when her brother calls you out.”

“Oh, well,” he said, feeling almost cheerful suddenly, ridiculous as it was. “He can’t very well shoot his brother-in-law can he?”

Alex snorted and shook his head. “Well, let us hope not, at any event,” he replied, his tone dry. “Very well then, what is the plan exactly?”

“Well,” Aubrey replied, “I thought perhaps early Friday morning ...”

***

“It has to be Friday morning,” Violette said the next afternoon, sitting in the back parlour by the fire with Celeste’s spaniel curled up over her feet. “You must invite me to go out with you and to stay the night here and somehow we must contrive that Alex gets Aubrey here, too, whilst we are out,” she said, frowning a little over that puzzle, as she didn’t know how it was to be contrived without Alex suspecting. “If he were to drink a little too much and fall asleep here, perhaps ... well, you’ve said yourself, he’d done it before. Then if we happen to leave in the carriage together the next morning, he’ll think he’s just accompanying me going home, and we’ll be at the church before he realises what I’ve done.”

“Oh,” Celeste cried, abandoning her embroidery and throwing it to one side. “Mais alors, nothing could be more perfect. Alex ‘as already said Aubrey will be dinning ‘ere Thursday night. They ‘ave some business deal to discuss.”

“Oh!” Violette cried with excitement as Bandit leapt to his feet in alarm. “Is this the locomotive project that Ranleigh was speaking about? Do you know, I overheard the Duke of Sindalton talking about it too! He was saying that he thought Mr Russell a very perceptive man and that he’d go far! Ranleigh as good as promise me he’d be investing, too.”

Celeste snorted and waved her hand. “Bah!” she replied with toss of her golden hair. “We ‘ave known this forever, and they only just discover it.”

Violette laughed, feeling happier and more carefree than she had in months. “Oh, but he needs it, Celeste. He is a proud man, and it will hurt him if people think he married me for my fortune.”

“There is no need to worry,” she said, her tone firm and decisive as she fixed Violette with her blue eyes. “Aubrey, ‘e ‘as needed something to fight for. That stupid father of ‘is takes all of ‘is confidence and undermines ‘im. Until now, ‘e ‘as drifted with no direction.” She reached over and grasped Violette’s hand, squeezing her fingers, her lovely blue eyes bright with affection. “You ‘ave given ‘im a purpose, ma chére, and now we see that ‘e is a man like Alex. It ‘as already begun. Me, I see it. I see the change in ‘im.” Her lovely face changed then, a sly smile growing as she regarded Violette. “And now, you must tell me ‘ow you persuaded Ranleigh to procure a special licence!”

“Well, in fact, as we are still to be married in Aubrey’s parish, not that he knows it, Ranleigh said we only needed an ordinary, not a special at all. It was rather disappointing, actually,” she replied with a scowl.

“But ‘e arranged it all for you!” Celeste said again.

Violette laughed and shook her head, still not quite believing it herself. “He said he thought it all terribly romantic, and as he’d never eloped himself, he thought he’d rather like to help someone else do it!”

“‘E never did!” Celeste exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment. “Well, I always thought him a rather proud and stuffy man. I wronged ‘im I think.”

“Yes,” Violette replied grinning at her friend. “I rather think you did.”

Celeste fell quiet for a moment and picked up her embroidery again, tracing the pattern she’d been working on with one finger. “Um ... Violette?” she said, still looking at the pattern with a small frown at her brow.

“Yes?”

“‘Ave you ... ‘ave you ever been ... intimate with Aubrey?”

Violette felt her cheeks heat and stared at Celeste in alarm.

“I mean,” Celeste hurried on, “do you know what to expect on your wedding night?”

“Oh!” Violette replied. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what to admit to before taking a breath. “Well ... in answer to the first question, yes, at least ... a little,” she murmured, wondering if her cheeks could get any hotter before she spontaneously combusted. “And to the second ... not exactly.”

Celeste grinned at her, her blue eyes full of mischief. “Alors, then as your maman is not ‘ere to advise you, I think it is time you knew, hein?

To Violette’s astonishment, Celeste continued to give her the benefit of her experience as a married woman, and some very good advice. A lot of advice. Violette proved to herself that great temperatures could be endured by the human body without bursting into flames, and felt she’d never be able to look Lord Falmouth in the eye ever again.

Goodness!

The only problem now was that she couldn’t help but feel a great deal more impatience for her wedding night.

Celeste had rung for tea and was on her third slice of cake before Violette felt anywhere near composed again. She regarded Celeste with amusement.

“I’ve never seen anyone eat as much cake as you do,” she said laughing. “How on earth do you stay so slim?”

“Oh dear,” Celeste replied, looking at the crumbs on her plate with chagrin. “I never used to. But it’s the only thing I seem to like to eat now,” she added with a laugh. “Everything else turns my stomach.”

Violette looked at her with a frown.

“How strange.”

“Isn’t it?” Celeste replied with a private little smile as she looked away. She sipped at her tea before turning back to Violette with a frown. “Violette, I’ve been thinking. What about your brother?” she asked, worrying at her lip with her teeth for a moment before she spoke again. “Won’t ‘e suspect something if you ask to stay the night here?”

“Oh, of course,” Violette replied with a bright smile. “And he’ll ask me to swear upon my honour that I’m doing just as I say I am. I’ve had to swear on my honour that I’m not up to anything wicked on and off my whole life! Though, of course, I never have been before,” she added, smoothing out her skirts while the naughty spaniel raked a paw at the fabric, demanding attention. “Well, not since before Eddie disappeared,” she amended.

“Mais alors!” Celeste replied, eyes wide with horror as she sat forward on her seat. “And what will you do then?” she demanded.

Violette stared at her in surprise, as to her mind, the answer to that was perfectly obvious. She shrugged and gave Celeste a look of quiet glee. “Lie,” she said.

***

Aubrey stared at the thick slices of meat on his plate as his stomach churned.

“Buck up, young Romeo,” Alex said with a grin, cutting a thick slice of his own dinner with relish. “If you’re to be married in the morning, you’ll need all your strength,” he added with a wink.

Glowering at his cousin, Aubrey picked up his knife and fork.

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” Alex asked, frowning a little now.

Aubrey shook his head. “No, of course not. Only, I hope Violette doesn’t change her mind,” he said, the idea tying his already fragile stomach in a knot. “I mean, it’s one thing to talk about eloping, quite another to actually do it!” he added, watching as his cousin dug into his meal.

“I don’t think you need have any qualms there,” Alex said, picking up his glass of claret. “Violette doesn’t seem the sort to shy at the last fence.”

Aubrey laughed at that and shook his head. “No. She’s full of pluck, that’s for sure. More than me I think,” he added with a rueful smile.

“Nonsense,” Alex replied, his tone brisk as he reapplied himself to his dinner. “You’ve already got this project of yours further in a few days that I could ever have believed. You’ll do fine, Aubrey,” he said with grin. “And if Winterbourne doesn’t kill you first, we shall all reap the rewards of your hard work.” He paused then, chewing thoughtfully. “I think perhaps we should offer him a good deal on an investment, as a brotherly wedding present.”

Aubrey snorted but didn’t disagree. “If it means I don’t have to meet him at dawn in Hyde Park, I’m all for it,” he muttered.

The meal was finished in a companionable manner as they discussed the final details for the morning’s journey to St James’ in Picadilly.

“Sindalton has arranged for you to have the house in Harrogate for as long as you want it. From there, you can go onto Glasgow and your meeting with Stephenson easily enough.”

Aubrey stretched as he got out of his seat and shook his head with a fond smile. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

His cousin gave a snort of amusement. “If this project of yours is anything like as successful as I suspect it will be, you’ll be repaying me many, many times over and more besides for years to come. And anyway,” he added as they adjourned to his study. “Sindalton owed me a favour.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Aubrey replied, his tone wry.

“Because I’m such a likeable chap, of course,” Alex replied with a white-toothed smile that was pure cutthroat.

Aubrey snorted and stretched out in a chair in front of the fire, smothering a yawn. “Yes, that would be it,” Aubrey mumbled. He supposed it was the combination of good food and wine, but he felt most dreadfully sleepy and closed his eyes.