Another fifty pounds had allowed Ethan to buy Violette from Madame DuChamps. After all, hed been a customer there in the past and knew she wanted his return business. Back on the street, he ushered Violette into a cab, which took them to where his carriage was being kept. He left word with a valet at his club to have his things sent, rather than go to his room to retrieve them himself. He did not want to risk leaving her alone anywhere, lest her father or Graves have detectives about, and had his carriage readied. Within minutes, they were on their way out of London.
Violette was quiet during the journey, and Ethan stole glances at her. She kept her hands folded primly in her lap, and her somber-hued clothing of grays and blues, along with her subdued expression, completely belied the passionate, lusting woman hed lain with just a short time earlier.
The mere flash of a memory set his blood heating and his groin tightening again. He fought not to remember the rose scent of her skin and its pale softness, the way it practically melted under his lips and tongue. He tried, unsuccessfully, to block the echoes of the soft sounds of delight and satisfaction shed made and the way her entire body trembled when he brought her to orgasm.
Good God, how was he going to stay away from her while she lived under the same roof with him? And yet, that was what he must do. She had no intention of staying in England, understandably, and he had no intention of falling in love. He had too large a burden of guilt toward Charlie to reckon with, not to mention his own apprehension about romantic involvement. The situation was far too complex. There was no allowance for falling in love. However, if he gave in to his desire, that was exactly the danger.
He turned abruptly and stared out the window. The carriage had passed out of London, opening up to the green of the countryside. He wondered briefly what Charlie would think of the situation. What he would think of Violette.
Charlie. Of course! He glanced quickly at Violette, but her gaze remained on the passing scenery. Perhaps, just maybe, Charlie would take a liking to her...
"Captain."
Ethan turned at the sound of her soft voice. Her wide-eyed gaze was now turned on him. The sadness in their blue-green depths stirred him, making him starkly aware of the losses and betrayals shed suffered. God help him, he didnt want to cause her any more pain. "Yes, Violette? You dont mind if I call you by your given name, do you?"
A tiny smile curved the corners of her dusky lips. "I do not mind at all, my lord."
He fought to keep his breath steady. By God, she was enchanting! He tamped down the desire to have her call him Ethan. He needed the bit of distance the formality gave him. And besides, there was already enough affection in her voice when she addressed him. He didnt want to invite more. "Did you have something to tell me?"
She nodded. "Oui. I ... wanted to thank you again for all you're doing. Maman would have been so grateful, too, if shed known. You are a very kind man."
Her words sent a flush of warmth through him, and he knew it was already too late. He was more than half in love with her. "You needn't thank me, Violette. I believe you'd have done the same for me if the situation were reversed."
She looked at him steadily for several moments. As usual, a million thoughts and feelings seemed to pass through her eyes. "Of course I would. But even so, Captain, I insist on repaying you whatever it cost to buy me from Madame DuChamps."
He smiled at her, at the earnestness in her tone. He also doubted she had a penny to her name. "I appreciate your sentiment. However, I don't wish for you to do such a thing.
Her pretty face crumpled to a frown. "But it is the proper thing to do."
"First of all, Violette, I'm very wealthy. I wont miss the money. And secondly, I dont think you'd have wanted repayment either, if the tables were turned. Would you?"
She stared at him, her posture erect as she braced herself against the swaying and bumping of the carriage. "No, I would not, of course. Her brow furrowed. But the tables are not turned, and I insist you allow me to do something kind for you in return."
Ethan sat back and sighed. He let his gaze rest on her face. As far as he was concerned, the way she'd shared her body with him, her openness and wholehearted giving and enjoyment of their lovemaking had been more than enough repayment. He sensed, however, that she wouldn't find that answer acceptable to her pride. He also knew that if he were in her position, he would feel terribly obligated. He cast about in his mind for some way she could show her gratitude.
In moments, he had his answer.
He looked at her. "There is one great service you could do that would help me immensely."
Her heart-shaped face brightened. "What is it, Captain?"
He took a deep breath. "Well, I would like it very much if you would spend time with my brother, Charles."
A flicker of disappointment passed through her eyes. "Your brother lives with you?"
Ethan bit back a pang of guilt. "Yes. Since he was wounded, I've looked after him. His spirits have never recovered from what happened. Queen Victoria knighted him for his bravery, but that hardly matters. A medal, of course, no matter how prestigious, cannot heal his wounds. He's been in a wheelchair ever since. The doctors have told him repeatedly he could walk if he tries and works up his strength." He paused and sighed, glancing out the window. This part always made him feel hopeless, as if he were descending into an abyss of sadness. But he doesn't have the heart to try. "I was hoping that friendship would give him encouragement. Friendship, with someone sweet and good, like you."
For several long moments she looked at him, the same myriad of emotions passing through her eyes. "That is terrible," she said softly. "I feel for him. But it must be very sad for you, as well. You seem to care so deeply for him."
Her sensitive assessment and sincere tone moved him. "It is sad for me. I love him very much. He's all the family I have left. Which is why Im asking of you what I've asked."
A look of deep longing came into her gaze, as if she wanted to reach out and touch him and was holding back. Of course, he sensed that his lack of affection after making love to her was giving her reason for caution.
"Of course I will extend friendship to him, Captain. But I cannot promise that he will respond."
He nodded, admiring the wisdom and understanding in her response. He sensed a depth to this young woman that was beyond her years and suspected strongly it was her mothers influence in her character. "Thank you, Violette. You know, I had the pleasure of seeing your mother perform onstage many years ago. She was a wonderful actress."
A tiny smile crossed Violettes lips and her fathomless eyes lit up at the mention of her mother. "My mother was a wonderful woman in so many ways." Her smile faded. "She never stopped loving my father, even after all the cruel ways he treated her."
He nodded. "I'm sorry you lost her," he said gently.
Her bottom lip trembled and sadness filled her eyes. "Thank you." Her voice escaped in a whisper and she turned to the window, giving him the sense she didn't want him to see her tears.
The captains estate was magnificent. After a sweeping driveway Violette thought was endless, the carriage came to a stop in front of a mansion. Wide steps, many tall windows and balconies sat amidst manicured lawns and gardens with footpaths. The gathering dusk provided a magnificent backdrop of pinks and purples, giving the scene a magical glow. She realized immediately why hed been so anxious to get her out of London. This place looked like it had many nooks and crannies in which to hide.
The captain descended and held out his hand to her. A small thrill of heat ran up her arm at the touch of his hand, even through her glove. Her gaze locked onto his briefly, just before she stepped down onto the graveled driveway. With her feet on the ground, the captain released her hand. "Come," he said gently.
He led her up the steps, drawing her attention to the bustle of servants gathering to greet their master. At the entry he introduced her to the assembly as a long lost cousin come to visit her relations. A strange tingle burned in her stomach when he referred to her as Viola Carrick.
An elderly man in a butlers uniform stepped forward, informing the captain that Sir Charles had gone to the Hazletons estate to settle a dispute between two of their servants.
Thank you, Mason." The captain turned to her, a small grin turning up one side of his mouth. "Charlie is a natural diplomat. And he is well liked over there. They'll probably have him stay to supper. You probably won't meet him until tomorrow."
She nodded and followed him into the large foyer. The house was as magnificent inside as outside, with marbled floors, chandeliers, and gilt-framed paintings. Violette imagined a person could spend days exploring all the rooms of this vast structure.
"Welcome to Carrick Manor," the captain said.
She gave him a shy smile. "Thank you."
"Now, Ive ordered supper for us. Charlotte, here, will show you to a room where you can rest first, if you'd like."
She nodded again, her calm exterior belying a rising panic. The thought of being alone in her room frightened her, as if her father or Graves could be lying in wait to snatch her away from the safety the captain was offering.
He seemed to sense her distress. I won't be far away. He touched her arm briefly, a look of sympathy warming his dark eyes. "If you need me, Ill be in my study. Charlotte will attend you, and you need only ask her. All right?"
Reassured, she nodded.
Slowly he turned and left her with the maid called Charlotte.
Charlotte took her satchel. "This way, miss." She ushered her through the foyer into a hallway. "Well have a bath for you, miss, and then change your dress."
"I ... dont have any other dress." Violette watched the maid work to hide an expression of surprise. Obviously, the young woman hadn't been expecting Violette to be a poor relation of the Carrick brothers.
Charlotte smiled. "No worry about that, miss. I'm certain your trunks will follow."
Violette nodded. "Yes, they will." Even though, of course, all her dresses and effects were in her bedroom at her fathers house, a place from which she certainly could never retrieve them. A heavy sadness enveloped her as Charlotte held open a door for her.
The bedroom was large and airy. A huge four-poster bed of carved mahogany stood against one wall. Two large windows draped with gauzy curtains lined the walls, along with a pair of French doors.
"You have a beautiful view of the back lawns, miss." Charlotte set down her satchel and hurried over to the French doors. She opened them to the view of the sunset on the lawns.
Violette stepped out onto the balcony and caught her breath. How lovely!
A large reflecting pool surrounded by gardens ran the length of the back lawn. The setting sun was reflected in pinks and oranges on the still water as it sank behind the canopy of a forest in the distance.
When Violette finally turned back into the bedroom, she saw Charlotte standing nearby with a towel draped over one arm, smiling. "Come, miss, theres a nice hot tub waiting for you."
At Violettes insistence, the maid left her to undress and bathe by herself. She'd never liked having someone fuss over her and had made an exception only the night before when dressing for the engagement party. Her strategy had been to appear as if she were happy about everything her life presented to her so no one would ever suspect she was planning to run away.
Sinking into the hot water, Violette lay back against the tub and closed her eyes. The scent of roses curled up with the steam and the heat seeped into her bones, making her aware of how exhausted she actually was.
She shifted in the water, becoming aware of the soreness between her thighs. The sensation brought back memories of the captain, of the way he touched her and kissed her. Her breasts tingled as if his hands still caressed them. She could still almost feel the flickering moist heat as he feathered the tip of his tongue on her bare skin. A pulse began in her sex at the remembrance of the way hed filled her, carefully, gently, bringing her to orgasm with his fingertips before taking his own pleasure...
Opening her eyes, Violette busied herself with soaking a washcloth in the tub and lathering it over her skin. It wouldn't do to indulge in fantasizing about the man. He didn't have any real feelings for her except for sympathy. He was helping her to escape her father and Graves. Hed made that abundantly clear. He obviously had no intention of making love to her again or deepening their relationship. His strange request to befriend his brother had only confirmed that. Something in the way he spoke about Sir Charles had given her the sinking feeling he was doing a bit of matchmaking. However, she couldn't become attached to either of them, seeing as she intended to leave England. Besides, even if she weren't leaving, how could she possibly know that Sir Charles would feel anything for her? She hadnt even met the man and wouldn't until the following day.
Violette remained in the tub until the water began to cool. She stepped out and toweled herself off. The clock in her room showed that she still had nearly an hour until supper. Exhaustion overcame her and she put on her pantalettes and slipped on her nightgown that the maid had hung in the garderobe.
Her shawl hung next to the nightgown. She pulled it off the hanger and draped it around her shoulders, then sat on a settee in the sitting area by the fireplace. Normally, she would have wanted to dress and explore this magnificent a house a bit before supper, but her lack of sleep and the tension of her escape caught up with her.
A light breeze stirred outside, wafting in through the open French doors. The summer evening was comfortable and mild. Violette put her head back and closed her eyes, just for a minute...
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