“Wherein an ogre is slain, in a manner of speaking.”

 

“I’m coming with you.” Violette leapt to her feet, determined that Aubrey would not face her brother alone. She had been frightened by the change in Eddie the last few times in his company, and she realised, with a jolt of alarm, that she no longer trusted him. This saddened her more than she could say, as her brother had been her hero as a child. He’d been a rather wonderful, golden figure who was the source of sweets and treats and a great deal of laughter. But the man he’d been seemed to have gotten lost somewhere, perhaps on the filthy, harsh streets of the Seven Dials, perhaps on the bloody fields at the battle of Waterloo. Wherever he was, she’d not seen him since he’d returned.

“Bring Lord Winterbourne in,” Lady Russell said to the butler, her imperious tone overriding the possibility of any argument. “We will face Lord Winterbourne as a family, Aubrey,” she added, her rigid, upright figure one of such dignity that Violette felt a swell of pride in her, especially as the old lady had particularly included Violette in that statement. That unswerving determination and loyalty was evident in both Aubrey and his cousin Alex, and she smiled to herself, knowing that this was not a family who would ever let her down, who would ever abandon her, whether through carelessness or mistake, and certainly not by design. There was a sense of safety and belonging here, the like of which she had never experienced before.

Violette felt she was holding her breath, waiting for the door to open, when the imposing figure of her brother strode in.

The air of anger about him was tangible, the air fairly crackling with it as Aubrey stood to face him. Violette stood too, grasping his hand, though Aubrey moved so she was shifted behind him, as though he could shield her from the force of her brother’s rage.

“Well, a fine celebration you are all having here.” The Marquess of Winterbourne seemed to live up to his name at that moment, the words dripping ice. His eyes were cold and hard as green marble, his face pale and harsh as the winter landscape outside.

“We are,” Aubrey agreed, his voice mild. “And we would be honoured if you would join us.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” Winterbourne replied, his voice a growl of menace, the sneer behind the words perfectly audible.

“Yes, certainly,” Aubrey continued, and though Violette could feel the tension in his body, his words were calm and assured. “It would make Violette very happy, and I would think you’d like your sister happy after the misery she has suffered for the past years with the absence of your protection.”

Aubrey paused and Violette could see the jolt of what might have been guilt as her brother froze, his jaw rigid.

“However, if you have come here to make her even unhappier by demanding satisfaction or some such nonsense, I shall have to ask you to leave,” he continued, still in the same perfectly placid voice, though Violette sensed Alex moving behind them, coming to stand closer to his cousin. “And before you threaten it to me, by all means, withhold Violette’s dowry. I will not touch it, whether you do or not, and it will remain her money to do with as she so pleases. So do be aware that you will not injure me in any way, but only once more hurt your sister, who I believe has suffered enough because of your failure to put her interests first and keep her safe.”

For a moment, the whole room seemed static, frozen into an atmosphere so charged that if the spark of the marquess’ anger lit, they would all go up like a tinder box.

Violette stared at her brother and frowned. It looked to her like he was in pain, his stance was so rigid, the expression of his face so tortured behind the mask of anger.

She let go of Aubrey’s hand.

“Eddie,” she said, her voice low and soft, as though speaking to something wild. “Eddie, please don’t do this. I know you’re angry with me, and I know you don’t understand. There is no reason why you should, after all, you’ve never loved anybody before - well, other than me - and I think perhaps it worries you ... that there won’t be anybody now because I love Aubrey. I do love him, you see. I think you know that, but I still love my brother, the brother I used to have, at least.” She stepped a little closer, pausing to give Aubrey a reassuring smile when he would have reached out and held her back. She felt certain now, her brother wouldn’t hurt her. The man he was, he was still in there, somewhere, but he was hurt and angry - only it wasn’t towards her at all.

Her brother’s face was a mask, and if she didn’t know him so well, she would have believed him capable of murder, or madness, but she could see the fear lurking in his eyes, and so she stepped closer. She stood face to face with him now and curled her fingers around his like she had when she was a child, staring up at her giant big brother and demanding a piggy back.

“You should have married Ranleigh,” he said, his voice rough and angry still, though his face showed signs of anguish. “He would have protected you, he could keep you safe. He’s wealthy, powerful ...”

“Yes,” she replied, nodding and squeezing his finger. “He was all of those things, and I liked him. He was a kind man, I think; you made a fine choice for me.”

“Then why?” he demanded, the rage and confusion behind the words only too raw.

She smiled, then, and put a hand to his face, truly seeing the brother who had left and disappeared for the first time as she saw that the fear in his eyes was for her. “Because I don’t love him. I love Aubrey, and he has not ever let me down. He protected me from the moment I came to London. He put me first, even though it ruined his good name and made him the focus of a lot of gossip, which he hates more than anything,” she added, glancing back at Aubrey and feeling her heart swell as she saw the look in his eyes. “He saved you for me, Eddie. He knew losing you again would be devastating for me, and he didn’t hesitate to put his life at risk, for both you and me.” Violette experienced a rush of anger that her brother couldn’t see how very much they both owed her husband. “Money isn’t everything and neither is a stupid title,” she said, her voice rather harder now. “You’ve got titles enough for both of us, for heaven’s sake.”

“He cannot support you,” he ground out, somehow determined not to be convinced, though she knew she had won just the same. There would be no duel, though she could still see the violence lingering in his body, the need to vent the anger that had taken him over. “I failed to protect you when I left,” he said, his voice anguished. “But I vowed that would never happen again. I vowed to put you into the care of a man who would do what I had not. Are you telling me he can keep you safe and happy and support you?”

“Yes.” There wasn’t the slightest doubt in Violette’s mind as to that, but now she felt a swell of relief as she realised what had motivated her brother to act as he had. It hadn’t ever been a lack of love and care, he’d been motivated by guilt and fear. She only had to make him see that he had been wrong. “He can, actually,” she said, trying hard not to sound smug. “I believe he’s going to be a very wealthy man, and the Duke of Sindalton, Ranleigh, and apparently…” She turned back to glance at Alex who supplied the name she was looking for.

“Ware,” he replied, grinning his wolfish grin and reminding her of Aubrey the night they had arrived. She bit back a grin of her own.

“And the Duke of Ware,” she continued. “All these powerful men believe in my husband - Mr Russell. They are investing a great deal of money into a project of his devising. I don’t believe they are stupid men, do you, Eddie?”

“And you believe I am, I suppose?”

She looked up into her brother’s eyes and could only find pity at the anger she saw there, as she realised now that it wasn’t directed at her, it wasn’t even directed at Aubrey. Her brother, Edward Greyston, the Marquess of Winterbourne, was angry at himself.

“No, Eddie,” she said, lifting his big, scarred hand to her cheek and kissing it. “I know that you are not. But I think you have assumed a great deal, and never stopped to think about what I wanted, only about what you thought I needed.”

He said nothing, but he didn’t pull his hand from her grasp.

“I’m not going to ask you to apologise,” she said, knowing that he would never have done it in any case. Apologising was not something Eddie was adept at. “But I am going to ask you to make up for your appalling behaviour.”

His eyes widened a little in horror, and it was all she could do not to laugh.

“You will throw a grand party to celebrate our marriage, and to show the world how pleased you are to welcome Aubrey to the family.”

“Vi ...” he began, a warning note to his voice that she blithely ignored. “We are going to Harrogate, and then to Scotland, but we will be back for Christmas, and I expect a lavish welcome home party. That should put to rest any gossip or scandal about our hurried marriage.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Seymour said, beaming at Violette as she got to her feet. She walked over and, to everyone’s astonishment, took Lord Winterbourne by the arm. “Now, my lord,” she said, her voice grave, giving his arm a gentle tug so that he was duty bound as a gentleman to accompany her on a turn about the room. “If you should need any help at all planning the party, I do hope you will call on me. I was quite a notable hostess in my days ... Oh, the parties I used to host! The baron and I ...”

Violette watched, deeply impressed, as Seymour took an appalled-looking Winterbourne aside for a lecture on exactly what form the celebrations for Violette and her grandson should take. What was even more surprising was that her brother seemed to be bearing it with ... if not exactly good grace, then forbearance.

“Well, would you look at that!” Aubrey exclaimed, watching his grandmother wag her finger at Winterbourne in a manner that was producing an expression of pain in his lordship. He sent a pleading glance in his sister’s direction but for the moment she decided she was happy to let him suffer. She wasn’t entirely sure Seymour was still talking about the party, and felt it would do her brother good to endure a severe dressing down.

“Should you rescue him?” Aubrey asked, casting a wary eye towards the old lady and the marquess as he slid a hand around Violette’s waist.

“No,” Violette replied.

Aubrey snorted. “You’re a hard woman, Violette Russell.”

Violette turned to look at him, eyes wide. “He came here to call you out or some such nonsense,” she pointed out with a huff.

“Well, yes,” Aubrey replied, rubbing his nose and staring at Winterbourne with sympathy. “But that’s my grandmother tearing him off a strip. I mean, dash it all ...it’s not cricket.”

Violette looked back at her husband and shook her head in amusement.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Aubrey muttered with a sigh as Alex strolled over to them.

“Should you rescue him?” he said, jerking a head towards the increasingly beleaguered looking marquess.

“Oh, don’t you start!” Violette complained, rolling her eyes. She gave a haughty sniff, putting up her chin. “It’s his own fault,” she said with dignity. “Serves him right.”

Alex’s lips twitched a little, but he rather manfully held his tongue for almost thirty seconds.

“Mind your step, lad,” he whispered to Aubrey in an undertone.

Aubrey snorted. “Too late that for, Alex. She’s led me a merry dance these past weeks, I shall just have to try and keep in her good books.” He paused and took a moment to twitch his cravat into place. “I mean,” he continued, deadpan. “She ruined my reputation, and then bullied me into marrying her once she knew no one else would want me ... I mean, what else could I do, I was trapped into it!”

“Aubrey Russell!” Violette spluttered as Alex roared with laughter.

“Oh, don’t worry, Violette,” Alex replied grinning at her. “You may have done your damnedest to ruin him, but in the end, I think you were truly the making of Aubrey Russell.”

Aubrey pulled her into his arms and was smiling at her with such love and affection that she could do nothing more than give him a playful tap on the shoulder for his cheek.

“Rude man,” she muttered, though there was so little heat in it that she struggled to keep the smile from her face.

“Terribly rude,” he agreed, nodding at her. “Oh, and don’t forget a rake and a libertine,” he said, but with such an endearing grin that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh Aubrey, you are absurd,” she said, wondering if life could possibly get any more perfect. “But I do love you.”

“Well, I should think so too,” Aubrey replied with a huff. “After all I’ve been through ...”

Violette rolled her eyes and knew there was only one way to stop any more of this nonsense.

So she kissed him.