The Lord Trap by Judith Lynne

Author:Judith Lynne [Lynne, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781953984197
Publisher: Smart Cookie Books

The instant Viola opened the door, Cass took over the room with her height, her basket, and her curious eyes.

“His Grace has dispatched a clergyman and a license!” Cass plopped onto the unmade bed, her basket silently landing beside her. “I hope that’s good news!”

Viola wanted to hide behind her hands. Or the door, or possibly some large, solid building. She’d been awake and hiding in this room in her morning wrapper for quite some time.

Was it good news? She couldn’t think. The haze of pleasure in which she’d fallen asleep lulled her into dreams more unearthly than any drug, and still hung in the air when she woke up.

Last night simply could not have happened. She could not have taken that position atop that man and done those things. It wasn’t possible.

Nor was it possible for her sister-in-law to be here so early with such news.

The room held no clock, but Viola felt time ticking away.

Cass pulled a folded gown from the basket, a cloud of lavender lace. Without thinking, Viola shook her head. “My mother put me in so many lavender dresses.”

“Because of your name. I understand.”

“I prefer blue.”

“I am trying to devise something for your wedding day, Viola.”

Her tone conveyed that she knew Viola had plenty of evening gowns, but doubted any of them had the right sort of flavor for a bride.

That reminded Viola of all the simpering fools setting their caps for Lord Callendar. White was so virginal, so false. More so on her, after last night.

Though she was vehemently aware that she still had more innocence to lose.

Cass studied her with a gentle but measuring look. “Are you with child?”

“No!”

“Heavens, you needn’t howl!” Cass rustled again in her basket. “You of all people must know that all of London will assume so, after your disappearance. And a special license on top of that.” She pretended to be absorbed in her trimmings, but her voice was kind. “I would understand. So would Oliver.”

“I’m sorry to say Oliver does not understand me. He never has.”

“Perhaps not, but he does understand how with passion, one can be carried away.”

Ugh. Viola did not want to contemplate her brother and passion at the same time. But Cass was close-mouthed, married, and possibly her last chance at the kind of womanly advice her mother would never give.

Viola sank to the edge of the bed.

“I am not carried away with passion. My decision to marry Mr. Waite came of long, careful deliberation.”

Cass’ face fell. “Oh dear.”

That sent Viola back on her feet. “Shouldn’t it have?”

Cass’ light eyes clouded over, and her expression was one straight from a Grecian statue. One of the goddesses who had seen too much. “Lady Viola—”

“For pity’s sake, we are related. Call me Viola.” One more careful performance and Viola would scream.

If nothing else, she’d spent a night and a day free of society watching her, expecting things of her, and she was not ready to submit to more surveillance.

Cass dropped the lace into her lap, her hands rising as if to speak with them, then she dropped those too.

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