Page 10 of Most Sought-After Scoundrel in London (Wicked Widows League #31)

T he children were frolicking about in the gardens as they did every afternoon.

Cameron watched from the drawing room window in awe.

The Earl of Hadfield, the head PORF, had stripped out of his jacket and waistcoat and was chasing his children about the lawn, his arms high in the air.

Egad, was the man pretending to be… a bear?

Cameron shook his head. Not a bear. Bears didn’t wave their arms and jump about.Whatever creature Lord Hadfield was, he had the children running in peals of laughter.

A tug of jealousy pulled on his heart.

About to turn five-and-thirty, his closest mates had one by one decided to marry over the past two years.

Cameron had believed he still had time before finding his match and having a family, until now.

One of the Neale boys zigzagged around his father and darted away from the others.

Cameron’s gaze followed the boy until Violet and Lady Hadfield came into focus.

Violet. Even when dressed in a simple modest day gown in her favored color blue, the woman fully captured attention.

He dreaded her afternoon strolls with their hostess when she was fully out of his reach and purview.

Every minute she spent away from his side was agony.

He had become accustomed to her company, and from the moment he awoke, Violet preoccupied his thoughts.

Initially, his preoccupation with Violet stemmed from the need to successfully train her. Needing to understand the woman’s strengths and weaknesses was key to completing his task, except comprehending Violet evoked emotions within him that were unrecognizable.

He had assumed that when it came time to marry, he would live a life of duplicity.

Not ideal, however, over the years, he had come to accept the fact that the priorities of the ladies of the ton and those of a member of the Network were not in alignment.

There had been a time or two when he considered the possibility of marrying a woman raised within the Network, only to discover they regarded him as a close friend and a brotherly figure.

Fear of rejection had prevented him from ever declaring his feelings but as he watched Violet from the window, he began to question the true nature of his affections from the past. Had he simply been infatuated, or had it been love as he had believed at the time?

The unsettling questions continued to plague Cameron’s thoughts as he observed Lady Bronwyn and Violet stroll along the garden path that led back to the house.

He presumed it was Lady Hadfield’s doing, but regardless of whose intent it was, the ladies never ventured close enough to allow him to lip-read.

Not knowing what the pair discussed each day, since his pride prevented him from asking, had his curiosity driving him to the brink of sanity.

The careful, steady footsteps alerted Cameron to Lord Hadfield’s arrival.

He didn’t bother to turn to greet the man who joined him daily to enjoy the view from the window.

There was much Cameron could still learn from his host, but the man’s ability to make his wife of over five years still blush was a skill at the top of his list.

Lord Hadfield's devotion to Lady Bronwyn was abundantly clear to all, which placed Lady Bronwyn in peril and required various members, at the discretion of Lord Hadfield, to be assigned to guard her for varying lengths. Cameron had not forgotten nor neglected his duty to see to Lady Bronwyn’s safety while training Violet.

However, he would be lying if he didn’t admit that there were moments when Violet was a dangerous distraction, particularly each evening as he walked her to her chambers and especially on the nights he succumbed to his urge to kiss her.

To his dismay, each interlude had left him wanting more rather than satisfying his thirst for her touch.

“Have you and Lady Violet made any progress?” Lord Hadfield asked.

Distracted by the vision of Violet in the distance kneeling to give Lord Hadfield’s son a hug, Camron echoed the last word he could recall, “Progress?”A jolt of jealousy had him firmly crossing his arms over his chest.

“The Network Council is eagerly awaiting to hear Lady Violet’s ideas.”

Accompanied by a long sigh, Lord Hadfield stepped in front of him. The gentleman's large form blocked his view of the ladies, who were diminishing in size.

“Hadfield, how am I expected to keep an eye on your wife if you are obstructing my view?” He took a side-step only to find that the blasted PORF had anticipated and mirrored his movements.

“Three days is all you have remaining before we return to London. I suggest you focus and do what is right.”

Right? Was Hadfield implying he had done wrong?

Cameron narrowed his gaze and studied the man before him, Landon Neale—a barrister by trade prior to becoming the Head PORF and inheriting the Hadfield earldom.

Word choice had been one of the heavily debated topics that Cameron and Violet had revisited many times over the past ten days as they attempted to devise new methods of mass dissemination of messages.

He found himself becoming more and more acutely discriminatory when simple terms that sounded straightforward were phrased in a certain manner that could convey multiple meanings.

Lord Hadfield placed a hand upon Cameron’s shoulder. “We all live by a code that we…”

The scamper of small feet preceded the entrance of Lord Hadfield’s son, David, the middle child, who ran up to them and, between heaving breaths, said, “We…we…need…”

Lord Hadfield knelt on one knee and placed his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Take your time.” The Neale’s had a family history of shortness of breath with heavy exertion.

Eyes closed, David followed his father’s advice and managed to regain control over his breathing. When the young lad opened his eyes once more, his gaze fell upon Cameron. “We need your help, Lord Hurlington.”

“Is something the matter?”

“We…we were playing hide and seek, but now we can’t find Lady Violet.” David looked out the window. “Mama is helping us, but Lady Violet is the best among us all at hiding.” The young boy tugged at Cameron’s hand but he didn’t need any further prompting.

Cameron picked up the lad and ran through the house and out into the gardens. When he didn’t hear Hadfield following him, he looked back over his shoulder. Where in the blazes was Hadfield? Violet was bloody missing, and as host, Hadfield should be out here searching for his guest.

Cameron looked down at the boy still clinging to his side and asked, “Where did you last see Lady Violet?”

David pointed in the direction of the path that Cameron had last seen Lady Hadfield and Violet.

When Lady Hadfield emerged from behind a tree, led by her youngest child, Sarah-Eloise, David wiggled until Camron set him down. “I’ll go see if Mama has found her.” Before he set off in the direction of his mother, he pointed to the east and said, “We haven’t looked over there.”

Cameron shook his head at the young boy’s clear and authoritative tone.

David was a Neale, and a PORF, through and through.

His initial panic that something had happened to Violet had relented the moment he realized he had overreacted.

If Violet was in real danger, Hadfield would have been hot on his heels.

After all, the ladies had been playing a children’s game, and perhaps Violet was putting her training to the test, to see how long she could remain undetected.

He stared in the direction David had pointed to and noted the position of the sun.

The east would be the most shadowed. Clever woman.

It was gratifying that Violet had been paying attention.

He crept forward, navigating through the tree line, careful not to make a sound. When he heard whispers, he stopped to confirm that he was indeed headed in the correct direction.

“Lady Violet, shouldn’t we return to the house?” The soft, no-nonsense voice of Hadfield’s oldest daughter, Abigail, wafted through the trees.

Unable to hear Violet’s response, Cameron continued. The idea of sneaking up on Violet had him grinning, but when a twig behind him snapped, he turned about and almost knocked the lady he’d hoped to surprise down.

“Violet!” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but her name came out a shout.

He caught her as she jumped backward and hauled her close to him.

The hollow feeling that had been grating on him vanished and was replaced with a balminess.

Hadfield’s words came to mind, “...what is right .” Violet in his arms felt right .

Violet’s heart raced as it tended to do whenever Cameron was in her vicinity.

She had attempted to ignore the man’s effect on her but in his constant company, it was extremely difficult.

With his arm wrapped around her, her body wanted to sink into his while her mind warned her to keep her distance.

“L-lord Hurlington.” She flattened her palms against his chest, and the twitch of muscles beneath had her again tempted to kiss the man. The soft touch of his lips against hers plagued her mind all through the night and into the day.

“Oh, I know that look,” Abigail mumbled from behind her.

Violet righted herself. What a terrible example she was setting.

Cheeks ablaze, Violet turned to face the little girl, who was twisting from side-to-side at the waist. “Don’t worry, Lady Violet, Lord Hurlington is a man of honor.

He’ll do the right thing.” Abigail delivered her message with a maturity that was far beyond her years.

Violet had no doubt she would be a PORF worthy of the protection of the Network.

Violet flickered her gaze up to Cameron and caught the man giving Abigail a wink. Scoundrel.

Abigail reached out both her hands, one for Violet to take and the other for Cameron.

Like her mother, Abigail had the natural ability to lead others, and Violet was more than happy to follow the girl's lead.

With Abigail between her and Cameron, she might be able to achieve what she intended, and that was to share her ideas of how to best accomplish their task.

When alone with Cameron, her mind was pulled in too many directions, and she had sought the counsel of Lady Bronwyn as to how best handle her rioting emotions and thoughts.

Over the past few days, with the aid of Lady Bronwyn’s strategies on how to remain focused rather than be distracted by the man’s charms, Violet had finally managed to master the art of walking without detection and masking her facial expressions.

Cameron glanced over at Violet. “Your ability to go undetected had David worried.”

What a peculiar statement. Lady Bronwyn had sent the boy to find Cameron. Was this another test?

Careful to ensure her features appeared relaxed so as not to give away her confusion, Violet replied, “You have taught me well.”

Abigail squeezed her hand tightly. When Violet looked down, the girl was smiling brightly up at Cameron. “Lord Hurlington, did you know Lady Violet can play the pianoforte?”

“I wasn’t aware that Lady Violet knew how to play any musical instruments.”

What was Abigail up to? Earlier, Violet had shared her idea, which had nothing to do with music, with the girl and her mother in detail in hopes they could assist in the discussion with Cameron.

She snuck another look down at Abigail, whose big brown eyes were bright with excitement.

Thinking back on their earlier conversation, neither Abigail nor Lady Bronwyn had expressed enthusiasm or support of her notion of embedding invisible messages in art pieces.

For the moment, she would have to be patient and see how Abigail proceeded since it was evident that the young PORF had a plan.

“Papa can play too. Do you know how, Lord Hurlington?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m ready to take the stage, but I can fumble my way through a piece or two,” Cameron answered with a smile. He didn’t show any signs of suspicion, yet Violet would have wagered every penny to her name that Abigail was scheming.

She shared a glance with Cameron over Abigail’s head, who was happily humming a non-recognizable tune. As they reentered the house through the terrace doors, Abigail led them through the house and to the music room.

Releasing Violet’s hand, Abigail said, “I shall see you both at supper.” Without a backward glance, the girl who was set to inherit a heavy burden skipped out of the room as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Except Violet sensed Abigail was far from as untroubled as she presented herself.

Violet turned to face Cameron. “I must succeed in becoming a member of the Network.”

“Why?”

“For Abigail,” she answered and then added, “And for me.” Needing space from Cameron and time to gather her courage, she walked over to the pianoforte and sat.

“After spending a little over a week here, my opinions on some matters have altered, and some things that I never dreamed of attaining all seem possible.”

“Would you care to share specifics on what these matters and things are?” Cameron joined her, but rather than sitting next to her, he remained standing.

“Not yet. First, we should focus on our task. And while Abigail might have spurred an idea, I’ll need your help to refine it.” She twisted her hands in her lap. Asking for assistance from another was extremely hard for her.

“I shall forever be at your disposal, Violet.” Cameron’s teasing tone held a heaviness that made Violet’s pulse race even faster.