Page 35 of The Duke Steals a Bride (Stolen by the Duke #5)

Chapter Thirty-Five

“W hat is going on?”

The two figures sprang apart at the sound of Christine’s astonished voice. Grace flushed, turning the color of a beetroot, smoothing down her hair with shaking hands.

Quickly, the maid bobbed a curtsey to Christine, before rushing past her, exiting the room via the adjoining door, which led to a small ante chamber. The maid didn’t look at her.

Slowly, Violet turned, facing her sister. Her expression was impassive.

“So,” said Violet eventually, her eyes flickering. “Now you know my secret.”

“I-I do not understand,” stammered Christine, trying to make sense of the scene she had just witnessed. “What do you mean? What secret?”

Violet laughed. A shaky laugh.

“Come and sit down, Christine,” she said, in a quiet voice. “I will explain everything.”

Christine nodded, her mind spinning. Violet turned, walking to the window alcove and sitting down, gazing out at the day. After a moment’s hesitation, Christine joined her. There was a tense silence.

I have sat here like this with Violet a thousand times. And never have I felt so utterly confused. Who is my sister?

“I can see that you are shocked,” said Violet, with a wry smile. “You never suspected it, did you? Not in a hundred years.”

Christine gulped. “I-I do not think so. No.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, just tell me.”

Violet gave a short laugh, looking down at the floor, before gazing up at Christine again.

“I can love only women, Christine,” said her sister, at long last, in a flat voice. “I love women in a way that society tells me should only be reserved for men. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” stammered Christine, trying to hide her shock. Her mind was spinning again. She had never heard of such a thing. “Can you explain further?”

“Of course,” sighed Violet, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, with a trembling hand. “You must have noticed that I never felt any affection for my suitors. Not one whit.”

“Yes,” said Christine, frowning. “I just assumed that you had never met anyone you had strong feelings for—just like me.”

Violet smiled ruefully. “If only it were that simple,” she said, her face twisting. “But I am afraid it goes much deeper than that.” She hesitated. “I can never fall in love with a man, Christine. I only feel that strong romantic attachment to women. To—to Grace.”

Christine could barely breathe. She was still shocked—as shocked as she had ever been in her life—but she didn’t feel anything else, other than pity for her sister’s hardship.

“You love Grace,” said Christine slowly, turning the shocking idea around in her mind. “You love her like you would a gentleman. Is that true?”

Violet’s face contorted again. Silence fell, as heavy as a thick curtain. Outside, the laughter of children walking along the street reached them, as if from very far away, snatched on the wind.

“Yes, it is true,” whispered Violet at last, her beautiful blue eyes shimmering with tears. “Grace and I fell deeply in love. But we knew that there was no future for us here – that we could never be together. That we could never live our lives side by side… except in secrecy.”

Christine nodded. “I see.”

“Do you?” Violet stared hard at her sister. “Do you truly see what agony it was for us, to think that we could never live openly, and declare our affection for each other to the world?”

Christine was silent. She didn’t know what to say. She felt like crying. The pain in her sister’s voice was palpable.

“And then our father betrothed me to the Duke of Ironstone,” continued Violet, biting her lip hard. “I tried, Christine. Lord knows, I tried so hard to accept it.”

She paused, gazing out the window, a faraway look in her eyes. “Up until the day of our double weddings, I thought I had accepted it. I was dressed in that dreadful, stuffy wedding gown, ready to go down to the carriage and then walk down the aisle…and I just couldn’t do it. I felt as if I was going to my death.”

“Oh, Violet,” said Christine, reaching out to take her sister’s hand. “What did you do? Where did you go?”

Violet gave a tremulous sigh. “I told Grace I wanted to be with no one but her,” she replied. “I told her that it was now or never – that if we wanted to make a life on our own terms, that we must escape this instant .”

Violet abruptly stopped, gazing out the window. Christine waited for her to resume her story.

“I told Grace to leave and wait for me at Regent Dock,” continued Violet. “Then I gathered all the pin money I possessed— which turned out to be quite a bit. I had no idea if it would be enough to start a new life, but I was determined to try.”

“Go on.”

“I told them I was stepping out for some air and managed to slip away,” said Violet, grinning at the memory. “I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, still wearing that awful wedding gown. People were staring at me as if I was mad. I was quite convinced someone would alert Bedlam Insane Asylum and have me carted away.”

Christine smiled. It was a desperate tale, but it had its amusing side. The picture of her sister fleeing in her wedding gown, running down streets while people gawked at her.

“I found Grace and we went searching for a ship,” continued Violet. “I didn’t care at that point where the ship was headed, just that we must get on the first one we could—get as far away from England as possible.” Her grin widened. “It could have been Scotland, or Ireland, or even Arabia. But the first ship we found, which was leaving within the hour, was to Genoa in Italy. And so, we got on the ship…and we didn’t look back.”

Christine shook her head incredulously. “What did you do in Italy?”

“For the first week, we did nothing but bask in our freedom,” admitted Violet, her eyes growing dreamy at the memory. “We took a room in a cheap pensione , right on the river, ate copious amounts of spaghetti, and drank gallons of wine, celebrating our love. It was magical.”

“And then?”

“It became clear that the money I took wasn’t going to last,” replied Violet. “Grace could have taken a position as a maid again, but that wasn’t going to give us the life we wanted. And so…I became an opera singer.”

Christine gasped. “An opera singer? A real opera singer?”

“Yes,” said Violet, laughing. “I always adored singing, as you know, and everyone told me I had the voice of an angel. I thought I would make good use of it to support myself…and Grace, of course.”

Christine shook her head again. This part of Violet’s story was just as shocking, if not more, than the revelation of her love for her maid. Ladies simply didn’t become opera singers. It was tantamount to becoming a prostitute in high society.

“It wasn’t easy,” said Violet, with a heavy sigh. “Late nights. Dreadful patrons, who tried to take advantage of me. But I managed to secure a permanent position at a small opera house in Venice for a reasonable wage. We leased a house on a canal…” her voice faded away, then resumed. “And that is where we were found and dragged back to England.”

There was a taut silence. Christine squeezed her sister’s hand. Tears were running down Violet’s face now.

“The man who found us was hired by the Duke of Ironstone,” said Violet, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “He burst in on us in our house. He caught us kissing—much as you just did.” She hesitated. “He was so scandalized, he basically kidnapped us, bundling us on the first ship back home, under threat of a pistol. And here we are.”

Christine flushed with shame. She was the one who had entreated the duke to find her sister. Their father would probably have never found Violet. And look at what she had done. Her sister was miserable and literally entrapped, locked in her chambers, forced to abandon the life of freedom she had made with the one she loved.

“I am sorry, Violet,” she said, her voice catching. “So very sorry.”

Violet shrugged, her eyes filled with sorrow again. “Father bribed the man who found us to keep our secret,” she said slowly, her voice hard. “Grace was cast out, of course—she managed to sneak in this morning with the help of another maid. And I am a prisoner in this room, taken out occasionally to spout lies about my mysterious disappearance , and awaiting my fate—which will probably be a hasty marriage.”

Christine was silent. She didn’t know what to say. Tears were streaming down her face now, as well.

“It is so exhausting being a perfect lady, pretending to be someone I am not,” whispered Violet, her face a mask of grief. “I never realized how draining it was…until I was finally free to be myself.” She laughed bitterly. “And now, I must pretend again. For the term of my natural life.”

“Maybe you can escape again…”

“No.” Violet’s voice was hard. “There is no chance of it. I am under lock and key.” She gazed at Christine. “I am sorry that my actions resulted in your marriage to the duke, sister. I never foresaw that would happen.”

Christine bit her lip, not knowing what to say. How could she tell her sister that she felt the same way about the duke as Violet felt about Grace? That against all odds, in the strangest, most unexpected way, that twist of fate that had led to her marrying the duke instead of Lord Trentham had opened the door to another world?

I cannot tell her. Not yet, at any rate. It is not the time or the place. And besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. The duke doesn’t love me in return…and never will.

Her heart twisted in pure pain for a moment, before she shrugged it away, focusing on her sister again.

At that moment, the door to the antechamber opened. Grace walked into the room. Violet sighed, reaching for her hand.

“Christine knows the truth about us,” said Violet, her eyes shimmering with tears.

Grace nodded, her eyes flickering to Christine, looking fearful.

“May I ask you a question, Grace?” asked Christine, her heart turning over in her chest.

“Of course,” murmured Grace.

“Do you truly love my sister?”

There was a tense silence. Violet shuddered. Grace sighed.

“Yes, Your Grace,” said the maid, visibly swallowing. “I love her with my entire heart.”

“Then that is good enough for me,” said Christine, in a firm voice. “I will help you leave the house so the earl will not see you.” She turned to Violet. “Thank you for sharing the story of your love with me. And I am so very sorry it did not have a happy ending, sister.”

Violet shuddered again. Christine threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Violet clung to her, weeping copiously, for a long time. Grace stood and watched.

Christine pulled back, turning to Grace. “Come along. We shall go through the secret passageway between the rooms. Follow me.”

She led the maid through the passageway and down the servant’s stairwell toward the back of the house, before bidding Grace farewell and watching her slip out of a side gate. For a long time, she just stood there, gazing at nothing, her heart so full of pain she could barely stand it.

Violet was back. But her beautiful, exalted older sister was a shell of her former self…and didn’t want to be here at all. Apart from losing Grace, Violet didn’t want to lead the life of a society lady. She never had.

And I always thought everything was so effortless for her. How wrong I was.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, before turning away, walking back into the house. Anger was zinging through her veins now. She was going to find her father—and she was going to give him a piece of her mind. Her eyes narrowed.

She was a duchess. And he was going to listen to her. At long last.