Heir to the Duke by Ashford Jane

Author:Ashford, Jane [Ashford, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9781492621560
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2016-01-04T08:00:00+00:00

Twelve

“Your grandmother actually had some good ideas about amusements for girls,” Nathaniel said to his wife that afternoon. “Not too dreary at all.” He’d been eager to tell her this, and more, to hear what had occurred with her mother. Violet had been out far longer than he expected. He’d finally found her in her bedchamber, sitting at the dressing table, gazing into the mirror. When she said nothing, he added, “I succumbed to the temptation to ask her about her friend the bishop.”

Violet sat curiously still.

“Are you listening?” he said. She certainly gave no sign of it.

“What? Yes.”

“For Randolph,” Nathaniel added.

“Randolph?”

“The bishop. Your grandmother actually said that he might take an interest.”

“My grandmother!” An odd sort of laugh escaped her, like a hiccup.

“What’s wrong?” Nathaniel felt awkward standing behind her, seeing her face in the mirror rather than directly. The room was not large. There was no place else to sit except the bed, and that didn’t feel right somehow. “Come out to the parlor,” he said. “Tell me what happened with your mother.”

He held out a hand. She took it and rose and went with him, but it felt as if she was hardly there. Nathaniel led her over to the sofa and sat beside her, keeping her hand folded in his. “Shall I ring for some tea?”

“If you want some,” she replied absently.

“Did it go badly with your mother?” He squeezed her fingers.

She turned to him¸ and finally seemed to return from a great distance. Her gray eyes focused on his face. Emotion flickered in them, but he couldn’t interpret it.

“No,” said Violet. Her chin came up. She sat straighter, cleared her throat. “No, not at all.”

“What did she tell you?”

“About?”

Nathaniel supposed it was quite unsettling to force a conversation on one’s mother after years of avoidance. It was nothing he’d experienced, of course, but he could imagine the difficulty. So he suppressed his impatience. “About your grandmother’s conduct. Everything we discussed.”

Violet blinked. She looked down at their linked hands. Gently, she pulled hers free. “She…she…”

It was as if his wife had lost her knowledge of words. Nathaniel frowned.

“She simply doesn’t like me,” Violet said. “She never has. It is one of those…inexplicable aversions. You know. Occasionally you meet someone and dislike them at once, for no apparent reason. You…just do.”

Something in her voice sounded false. Bewildered, Nathaniel said, “You’re telling me that your grandmother took a dislike to you at birth? Like an annoying stranger encountered at a club?”

“Stranger,” murmured Violet. “Yes.”

Nathaniel gazed at her. It was obvious that she was shaken, and impossible for him to accept this explanation. “This is all you have to say?”

“Why…yes.” Sitting very still, she suddenly looked apprehensive, like a child braced for a thundering scold.

For the first time in their long acquaintance, she was lying to him. It was plain in her tone and her posture and…in the whole feel of the connection between them. Nathaniel couldn’t comprehend it. “Whatever she said, it is quite safe with me,” he tried.

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