‘Yes.’ That thought at least made her smile. ‘It’ll be good to see Ianthe again.’
‘I have to admit I’m rather intrigued by the sound of her. What was it about her that your father disapproved of? You said he forbade you to see her.’
‘You didn’t hear the rumours?’
‘I might have. Mrs Gargrave feels it her duty to regale me with the comings and goings of Whitby society, though I try not to listen. Being the subject of so many rumours myself, I have a certain amount of sympathy for the victims.’
‘Well, Ianthe is the victim. She was pursued and blackmailed by Sir Charles Lester.’
‘Lester...’ He drew his brows together. ‘Wait, I do remember something about that. He fell off the cliff, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t just a fall. He was trying to shoot Robert and lost his footing. I saw the whole thing from their house. It was an accident, but there were still rumours. People said that Ianthe must have done something to encourage his attentions and that Robert attacked him in a jealous rage.’
‘Neither of which was true, I suppose?’
‘No. Lester was obsessed with Ianthe, and Robert only fought back in self-defence, but my father hated any hint of scandal. He was going to sell Robert his shipyard until that happened, but afterwards he refused to have anything to do with either of them. He sold it a few months later for half the price.’ She looked at him askance. ‘I don’t suppose Mr Rowlinson mentioned that when he told you about the will.’
‘No, but I’m not greedy. You’re still pretty good value.’
‘How amusing.’
He chuckled softly. ‘Then I’m even more intrigued by your friend. Though under the circumstances I suspect she might not be so delighted to see me.’
‘No, maybe not.’ She had to admit she felt mildly apprehensive about that herself. Considering how determined she’d been in planning her escape, she wasn’t sure what Ianthe would think of her sudden decision to marry. She’d tried to explain in the letter Martin had delivered to Whitby, but she had a feeling her friend might not be completely convinced.
‘I just need a few moments...’ she unthreaded her arm from his gently ‘...on my own, if you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not. I’ll take a walk along the front. Slowly, of course.’
‘Are you afraid that I’ll bolt at the last minute?’ She smiled ironically, but he only looked sombre.
‘I’ve put all my cards on the table, Violet. I know what I want, but you must do whatever you wish. When you’re ready, if you’re ready, we’ll go to the Felstones’ house together.’
She watched him limp away, feeling a rush of gratitude. There was still time to change her mind, he was saying, if she wanted to—but she didn’t want to, she realised. Whatever else, life with him wouldn’t be dull. He might never be entirely respectable, but he wasn’t the man she’d feared he was either. Reprobate or not, he had more depth than she’d previously suspected. More pain, too, however much he tried to conceal it. He seemed to understand how she felt about her father as well and he did seem to have changed. He was prepared to change even more to marry her. She hadn’t seen him touch a drop of alcohol since the night she’d agreed to marry him.
Most importantly, he wanted to use her father’s money to build something, not just for himself, but for the good of others. He had a plan, a purpose, and he was prepared to let her live her own life, too. Most of all, he’d been honest with her about the nature of their relationship, hadn’t deceived her by pretending that his heart was involved. As long as she protected hers, too, they ought to be content.
‘Lance?’ she called out before he’d gone barely ten paces, pointing towards the Royal Crescent on the other side of the promenade. ‘That’s their house over there.’
He turned around slowly, meeting her gaze with a look of such searing intensity that she felt as if all the breath had left her body suddenly. He’d removed his hat and the combination of sun and sea breeze made his hair seem to glow with golden tints, making him look more ruggedly dishevelled than ever. He even looked younger, too, though his expression was stern, as if he’d been bracing himself for her to refuse him at the last moment.
She forced herself to start breathing again. He was, without any doubt, the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on—a realisation that seemed to be having a disturbing effect on her body, making her breasts and stomach tighten, so that she wondered if she were making a terrible mistake after all. She didn’t want to feel any kind of effect. That wasn’t part of their arrangement, not for seven years anyway. How mortifying would it be to want a man who didn’t want her back? Especially when that man was a renowned libertine!
Then he smiled and she forgot everything else.
‘Come along, then, Miss Harper.’
He started towards her and she found herself drifting forward to meet him, her feet seeming to move of their own accord.
‘You won’t regret it, Violet, I promise.’
He took hold of her hands as they met on the pavement, lifting them slowly to his lips and kissing each in turn. She felt a thrill of pleasure, unexpectedly touched by the gesture. He really did want her to be happy, it seemed. Maybe that in itself would be enough. Whatever other unsettling physical effects he might have on her, she could control them. There was certainly no need for him ever to know about any of it.
They walked arm in arm along the crescent to the Felstones’ house, though they’d barely entered the hall before Ianthe came hurtling out of the drawing room, enveloping her in a none-too-gentle embrace.
‘Violet! I’ve been so worried!’
‘I’m sorry. I got word to you as soon as I could, but the snow...’ She hugged her back just as tightly. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’