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Chapter Two
TWO YEARS LATER
“ O h! We forgot to tell you,” Lady Cecilia Hargrove exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands together. “Stephen and I are to go away next week. Isn’t that exciting?”
“You are?” Violet blinked, taken by surprise. “To where?”
“Oh, nowhere too extravagant,” Lord Stephen Hargrove spoke up. “Scotland for the week, just outside of Edinburgh. I have some land there, and we thought it would be nice to get away.”
“It is a beautiful country,” Cecilia agreed as she took her husband’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “And so peaceful.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Cecilia said.
“Does a husband need an occasion to spoil his wife?” Stephen added with a chuckle, at which point his wife kissed the back of his hand. “I have been telling Cecilia for months that I was going to take her somewhere. No time like the present.”
“Oh…” Violet trailed off, doing her best not to sound despondent or upset.
Which I am not. I am simply… annoyed. And not for any reason that makes sense.
“You always spoil me,” Cecilia purred, reaching out with her other hand and stroking her husband’s face lovingly. “Perhaps if you are lucky, I will return the favor.”
“Do not tease me.” Stephen winked.
“I thought you liked it when I teased you.” Cecilia winked back.
Urgh! While I do enjoy their company, and I am truly happy for how in love they are, I also wish just as much that they would tone down the affection. At least when they are in company.
Despite these feelings, Violet laughed at her friends’ fawning, rolling her eyes as she did because, as said, she enjoyed their company immensely and did not want to give them pause the next time they thought of visiting.
Visitors were one thing she coveted highly in this life she had made for herself, and it would not do to scare them away.
With the exception of her friends’ heavy petting, the day was lovely.
Summer having just started, the weather was warm, and the sun shone brightly overhead.
For this reason, the three of them found themselves in Violet’s back garden, sitting in the shade of a large oak tree, enjoying tea and some cakes she’d had made in advance.
It was not a ritual, but she entertained often and always made sure to put her best foot forward.
“Perhaps it is time I go on a trip,” she mused as she took a sip of tea. “The Lord knows it has been an age. As in, never.”
That had Cecilia dropping her hand and grimacing, a shared look with her husband that suggested whatever Violet had said brought to mind a topic the two had discussed before.
“What?” Violet prompted. “What is wrong?”
“Is that such a good idea?” Cecilia began carefully.
“Why would it not be?” Violet asked, her tone sharper than she had intended.
“My wife means nothing by it,” Stephen was quick to interject. “It is just that, well, a lady like yourself, traveling alone… It is not safe.”
“Oh, it is perfectly fine.” Violet waved him off. “I have meant to ever since… well, the wedding,” she snorted. “Time has simply gotten away from me.”
“It is more than that…” Again, the couple shared a look before Cecilia continued. “It is one thing to live here on your own, Violet, away from judgmental eyes and gossip. Easy to explain where your husband has gone off to when unexpected visitors drop by.”
“And your point is?”
Cecilia sighed. “If you go on a trip by yourself, people will be bound to ask why . Why has His Grace not joined you? Why has he allowed such a thing in the first place? Questions without easy answers, sure to lead to more questions…” She raised an eyebrow, her point plain.
Violet pursed her lips. “That is… So what? Let them talk. I care not what people say.”
“But does His Grace?” Stephen asked rightly.
It was so unfair! Worse that Cecilia and Stephen were right in their worry, even though Violet was too stubborn to cede victory and admit defeat.
For two years now, she had lived free of her husband, seeing him rarely—a handful of times by her count, which was a handful too many. As he had promised, once wed, she had been left to her own devices, living alone on his estate, able to do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted.
It was a type of freedom that most young ladies could only dream of having… which was why it came with a catch.
A catch that two years later, I am starting to wonder if this marriage was such a good idea in the first place.
The particulars of their marriage were still to be kept a secret.
The Duke had been at pains to remind Violet that if their secret got out, there would be hell to pay.
The ton was a most judgmental crowd, and if they were to learn of how she had been left to live her life, the consequences would be dire for the Duke and his reputation. He would not have it!
It was thus that she was a prisoner, albeit in a rather luxurious setting.
A handful of her friends knew the truth, as did her family, but those who did not were always told a lie when they came to visit or saw her in London when she was on her own.
That His Grace was busy, that he was away on business, too ill to go out today.
It was a lie that was becoming tiresome.
“Do I look like I care what my husband thinks?” she said sullenly, snatching a cake and biting into it rather viciously. “If he was here, I might ask him. But I have not seen or heard from him in well over six months. No, more than that!”
“We are only telling you the truth of it,” Stephen said. “Do not shoot the messengers.”
“I know,” Violet sighed, feeling guilty. “It is just…”
She looked around the verdant garden and back toward her manor. A truly picturesque home, befitting her station in every way she could ever dream of. Yet, it wasn’t enough.
“I am so bored,” she groaned, her shoulder slumping. “I was even considering attending a few balls this Season.”
“Violet…” Cecilia grimaced. “Is that such a good idea?”
Violet scoffed. “Perhaps not. But that just tells you where my mind is at.”
It had not always been this way. In fact, the first year of her isolation had been a dream. Free to do as she wished. Able to spend her days however she wanted. She had coveted her freedom and thought this whole marriage business to be a most wonderful thing.
Alas, times had changed. And always, there was that nagging worry deep within, an awareness that this was her life from now until forever. She would never meet another man and fall in love. She would never have a family of her own.
As blessed as I am, I cannot help but admit that things could always be better.
“Perhaps we can take you to Scotland?” Cecilia suggested, reaching across the table and taking Violet’s hand.
“Cecilia…” Stephen grimaced.
“What?” Cecilia asked. “If she is with us, that might negate the strangeness of her husband’s absence.”
“It is fine,” Violet said. “I will not burden you.”
“You could never be a burden.”
“She said it is fine,” Stephen was quick to remind his wife, widening his eyes at her because no doubt he had zero desire for his romantic trip to be ruined by a third wheel.
“If you change your mind…” Cecilia looked sorrowful as she squeezed Violet’s hand.
About to answer, Violet spotted Mr. Jenkins hurrying across the garden. He was the head of staff, a kindly old man she adored. And while she brightened to see him, the look of abject worry on his face gave her pause.
“Your Grace!” He reached the table and bowed quickly. “I am so sorry to disturb you, but?—”
“What is the matter?” She perked up, looking past him and toward the house as if expecting a monster to fly from the doors. “You look as if you have seen a ghost.”
“You are not far off the mark, Your Grace.” He sucked through his teeth. “It is just that…” He bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder. “It is your husband, Your Grace.”
“Roderick? How fun, we were just talking about him.”
“But he is here , Your Grace,” Mr. Jenkins pressed, his eyes wide in panic. “He quite literally just walked through the front doors and was asking for you.”
Her stomach plummeted, as did her mood. “Oh.”
“Oh good!” Cecilia brightened. “Perhaps you may ask him about the trip.”
Violet scoffed. “Believe me, if His Grace is here, it is not a visit where I will be asking for a favor. He wants something, no doubt.”
Indeed, the few times he had visited her these past two years, it was always because he either needed something or was checking that she was behaving herself.
As if he should even care!
“Should we…” Stephen indicated that he and his wife should leave.
“Alas, I think so,” Violet sighed. “For the best, for you do not wish to see this.”
She quickly bid her friends farewell, escorting them to the side of the house, from which they made for their coach without having to walk through the building proper.
Once that was done, Violet braced herself to go and speak with her husband. It had been over six months; she could not imagine what he wanted, nor did she care. For a man who told her explicitly that he wanted nothing to do with her, he had a nasty habit of proving the opposite.
She hurried indoors, and as she did, she reminded herself to be brave.
Roderick was not a cruel man, nor was he malicious.
But he was powerful and determined, the type who was so used to getting his way that he did not understand the concept of being told no.
And what was worse, rarely did he realize when she was upset.
I used to think that he did not care, but now I know that he simply does not think about the possibility that his words, often harsh, might hurt me as they do.
Violet found him waiting for her in the foyer.
She paused by the back door, taking a moment to observe her husband, as it had been a long time since they’d last spoken.
Even after all this time, she still found herself struck by how handsome he was.
His dark features. The sharp lines of his angular face.
And his tall, imposing figure. But it was his eyes that she liked most. While the rest of him was always cold and distant, behind those dark brown irises there was a…
Not a warmth, for that is impossible.
More a sense that there was more to her husband than she dared to hope.
He was standing in the foyer, his back straight, his chin pointed, looking over the manor with the sense that he owned the place. Which he did, but it annoyed her to see nonetheless, as this was her home, not his. She supposed in this way, nothing had changed.
She sighed and decided it was time to get this over with.
“Roderick…” She walked into the foyer, her head held high. “This is a surprise.”
He shifted his gaze to her as she approached him. And then, in a most shocking display, he smiled. “Not an unpleasant one, I hope.”
She came to a halt, taken aback by his tone and words. “Ah… excuse me?”
“You look well, wife.”
He made for her, still smiling. She frowned, seeing her husband but not recognizing him at all. And then, when he reached her, he took her hand, pulled her into him, and planted a kiss on her lips.
The kiss had two effects.
The first was the most unexpected. When his lips pressed against hers, she thought to pull away.
Only, her body seemed to melt into him. A warmth spread through her arms and legs—lit a fire inside her, it felt like!
They had never kissed before. They had rarely touched each other!
And this was beyond how she thought it would feel.
The second effect was her coming into herself, gasping, pushing back that fire, and wrenching her lips away.
“What do you think you are doing?” she snapped.
Her husband frowned. “What else? I am kissing my wife.”
“Not that—well, yes, that.”
She frowned, trying to summon her anger, but realizing slowly that something was wrong. Again, it was his eyes, that same warmth. Only for once, he didn’t seem to be fighting against it.
“Why are you kissing me?”
“How else should a husband greet his wife?”
Has he lost his mind?
She looked at him as if he had, a look that grew more concerned as he continued to speak.
“Not that you made it easy for me,” he said. “I was wondering where you were, truth be told. And you have no idea how hard it was to find this place…” He looked around. “What on earth are you doing here? Why are you not at home?”
“This is my home.”
“Well, it is one of them,” he relented. “But you do not live here.” He frowned again as he took in her most perplexed expression. “Oh, I see…” He shook his head to himself. “We both live here. Is that it? I forgot that summer has started, so I suppose it makes sense to move closer to London.”
“Roderick!” she cried in exasperation, ignoring the way her lips tingled because right now, she had more pressing matters. “What has gotten into you? What are you saying? You know this is my home. Just as you know you have no business walking through my front doors and kissing me!”
On any other occasion, had she raised her voice like that to her husband, he would have let her know that she was to never do it again. At that moment, however, he did not seem to notice her rancor, just the confusion on her face.
“I have no business kissing you?” He studied her, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Am I not your husband?”
“You are, but?—”
“Then what is the problem?”
She looked at him as if he was speaking a different language, for he might as well have been.
The man standing before her was certainly the same one she had married. He looked the same. He was as arrogant as ever. But there was something else…
Again, it was his eyes that did it, nowhere near as sure as they always were. He almost looked worried.
“What is going on?” she asked, trying to calm down. “This is not you.”
“Ah…” He pressed his lips together, appearing frustrated. “I was afraid of that.”
“Afraid of what?”
“The truth is that a part of me wondered if it might be avoided. For that would have been easier.”
“Avoided? What are you talking about?”
“The thing is, Violet, weeks ago, I had a bit of an accident—I am fine,” he added quickly. “I do not remember the thing, but the effect has caused somewhat of a problem.”
She looked him over, searching for some sign of this accident. He looked perfectly fine, at least on the outside. But the rest of him…
Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be more than I can take?
“It seems that I have lost my memory,” he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “And not just some of it, but all of it. In fact, when I first walked through the doors, I was not even sure who you were.”
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