Wedding Violet (Fair Cyprians of London 4)

Two minutes later, with that ordeal behind her, she waited in even more trepidation as the parlourmaid knocked on the drawing room door to announce her.

And she was fully braced for Max’s surprise—or was it shock?—when she was admitted.

What she wasn’t expecting, however, was to become the focus of not just Max, but an elderly gentleman and a plain but pleasant-faced young woman.

“Forgive me the intrusion, but I am a friend of Miss Thistlethwaite,” she explained, before elaborating on the nature of her visit. “I couldn’t leave her alone, unattended, without seeking someone’s assistance, yet I have another important engagement I must meet.”

She glanced at Max when she said this and saw the telltale clench of his jaw. He knew exactly what she meant, and she suddenly longed for him to stride across the room and take her in his arms before declaring to the gathering that he’d decided to make her his wife.

In name, and in reality.

Of course, it didn’t happen. However, he did thank her, and then announced to the man whom she was not surprised to learn was his grandfather, and to Miss Dulwich—whom she was certain was the infamous Mabel—that he’d accompany Miss Lilywhite to his aunt.

“That was a clever way of garnering my attention,” he remarked when they were alone and walking briskly towards the park, though it seemed Max didn’t believe Violet was motivated by concern for his aunt until she told him she really did have to go.

The furrows between his eyes deepened. “I thought this was a ploy for us to be together.” He sounded genuinely disappointed.

Violet laughed as she pointed towards the gated park. “Go to your aunt, Max. She needs someone to help her back home, and I can assure you Madame Chambon would not think that a good enough excuse to keep me from earning her the diamonds and furs needed to add to her consequence.”

Her tone was light, but the set to Max’s mouth was grim as he suddenly gripped her hands.

“I care for you, Violet,” he muttered. “Is there nothing I can do to help you es

cape that dreadful woman’s clutches?”

“You’re marrying me tomorrow.” Violet strove for lightness as she tossed back the thick brown ringlet that fell over her shoulder. “And you’re paying me well for it. Now, good night and send my good wishes to Miss Thistlethwaite for I should have been at Madame Chambon’s ten minutes ago.”

Chapter 12

Max was glad to find only the ladies when he returned to the townhouse for the old men had left for their club. It was, he decided, a good sign. If they’d suspected anything between Violet and himself, his grandfather would have had no compunction in grilling him on it in front of everyone.

“Miss Lilywhite is very lovely, Max,” Mabel remarked with a sly look as he accepted the tea she poured him. “Where did you meet her?”

“At a mutual friend’s establishment. She is a very modern young lady and believes a chaperone unnecessary since she works for her living.” It was easy to trot out the lines he had ready. Not so easy when Mabel asked him, “Are you very much in love with her?”

He barely knew what to say, and Mabel laughed when he had to tip the tea from his saucer back into his teacup.

“I hope you’re less clumsy as an escort,” Mabel said. “Miss Lilywhite looks as regal as a queen. I can’t believe she has not been snapped up already and must work for her living.”

“My understanding is that her family hails from Middlesex. Ruislip, I believe.”

Max sent a sharp look at his aunt. “She is estranged from them,” he said quickly, “and they will not be coming to the secret ceremony.”

“Ceremony!” Mabel gasped. “Why Max, you sly thing! You’re going to elope? Goodness, your grandfather—”

“Must not suspect,” he shot back.

Mabel’s sudden blush and Aunt Euphemia’s evasive look prompted him to ask suspiciously, “They made no remark about my accompanying Miss Lilywhite part way home? I’d have made such an offer to any unaccompanied young lady; they must surely know that.” Nervously, he straightened his collar. “You won’t say anything, will you, Mabel?”

“Of course not.” She bit her lip and nodded vigorously. “I’m sure everything will be fine, Max.”

“At least I know Miss Lilywhite will not leave you at the altar, my dear boy.”

“No, I don’t anticipate it.” He only realised that the sentiment might be misinterpreted by Mabel when his old friend said, “And I have done you the greatest service, Max, and will do everything in my power that you win the love match you deserve.”

His aunt sighed. “If ever there was a young lady in love.” Her voice trailed off, and she dabbed her eyes.

It was hard not to be affected by Aunt Euphemia’s emotion, which was touching, and Max had to admit it, curiously painful. But while he’d set out to please her, and it was gratifying to see her vicarious pleasure in helping facilitate a happiness she’d never experienced, Max felt a scoundrel for duping her.