A Marquess for Christmas (22 page)

Kit
bit back a smile. Violet’s eyes were wide and round like chestnuts and she
coughed into her napkin.

Freddy
flashed a grin. “She races faster than a thoroughbred. Sometimes it is useful,”
he winked at Kit. “Sometimes, you cannot get a word in edgewise. But she means
well. She tells me it is in the very nature of a Gemini to be loquacious.”

“It
is!” Bella commandeered the conversation again. “We cannot all be so judicious
in our speech as you, Freddy. But then you are a Libra. It is in your nature to
be diplomatic and congenial to everyone.”

If
only Mrs. Norris would hurry with the duck. If the main course wasn’t served
soon, Bella would harangue them all about their stars and spout nonsense about
destiny and fortune.

“Freckles,
take a bite of bread and let someone else get a word in. Can you not see that
Violet looks as alarmed as a rabbit trapped by a fox?” Kit goaded her, knowing
she wouldn’t be able to resist. Bella
hated
to be called Freckles. She’d once tried to set his toys on fire for using her
nickname in front of a beau.

“Daniel
Cosgrove, if you call me that one more time, I swear I shall go into your
trunks and take a scissor to all of your crisp white shirts.” The smile she
gave was fit for the devil. She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving
his.

“I
would not have to resort to such tactics if you would behave in a civilized
fashion.”

“Civilized?”
Bella’s crystal glass clinked loudly when she slammed her glass onto the table.
“You—the gambler, the boxer, the whoremonger—you would dare call me
uncivilized? I should grab you by the ear and lock you in a closet without
supper.”

Kit
and Freddy laughed. Even Violet tried to cover up her chuckle, but didn’t quite
manage it.

“I
am not ten years old, Bella.”

“Have
you grown up then? Does the hair on your chest and your baritone suddenly make
you an adult when you have the manners of a child?”

Freddy
took his wife’s hand and stroked it between his. “He only teases you,
sweetheart. You know that is his way. He means nothing by it. Do not give him
the thrill by behaving offended. It only encourages him.”

Bella
sighed. “I am sorry, Violet. That was rude to have such discourse at your
dinner table. It is only that Kit’s favorite pastime is to vex me and cause
trouble. You do not know how hard I have tried to make a gentleman out of him.
Marquess he may be, but that is by birth, not by behavior.”

Violet
leaned toward Bella. “Do not worry yourself. I, too, have a brother. And while
he is not nearly as mischievous as Kit, he certainly does enjoy teasing me.”
When her gaze met his, Kit felt his heart pound. The one sideways glance
brought the color back into this monochrome evening.

Bella
fanned herself. “If I did not have Freddy, I should die of grief looking after
Danny. He will send the march and the earldom to ruin. No matter how many
pretty countesses and heiresses he meets, he’ll have none for a wife. By the
time he finally walks to the altar, I shall be on my deathbed.”

Not
this. Not now. Why did she have to bring this up? She could not leave well
enough alone. Bella could never once see his side of it. He did not object when
she wanted to marry Freddy, despite the fact that Freddy had been a charmer and
a rake when she’d set her cap for him. He could have made the responsible
choice and insisted that she marry the Conte
d’Messina
or their cousin, Stewart Elliot, who was set to inherit a fortune on his
mother’s side. Instead, Kit had honored her wishes, respected her to choose her
own life, which any other man in his place would never have done.

“The
marquess is still quite young,” Violet said. “He may yet marry.”

Bella
shook her head. “But who will have him if he waits until he’s old and furry and
so rotund from his port and whisky that he can hardly sit atop a horse? And
knowing Danny, he will offer the march to some actress or opera singer who will
spend all of our money before he can get an heir by her.”

Bella
had gone too far. Again. When would he learn? She would never change. “That is
it, Bella. I have had enough. Why do I bother to make nice with you? Why do I
sit around and let you insult me every time I visit? Now you disrespect me in
front of—” He stopped himself before he said
the woman I love
. “—Of Violet, who you just met
today
. What will she think of me if my
own sister hates me that much?”

Kit
stood up from the table. This time, he did not bother to say a word to Freddy.
However, he did go to Violet and bent to take her hand. She’d removed her
gloves during the first course, so his lips brushed over her supple skin. “I
apologize to you, my sweet Violet, for such rude behavior in your fine home. I
hold you and
Welbury
in the highest regard, even if
my sister does not. Please do excuse me as I have no appetite at the moment.”

Her
parted lips were an invitation and he wished that they were alone so that he
could kiss her. But as usual, Bella had decimated every hope he had for a
pleasant evening.

Kit
turned to the door and did not look back.

* * * *

Violet
was speechless. A thunderstorm had begun with no warning. Kit was gone. Bella
cried. Freddy gave her an apologetic look and tried to make Isabella smile.

From
the corner of her eye, Violet saw Avery against the wall, dutifully waiting for
instruction. His normally blank face was still, but his eyes gave him away. He
appeared as nonplussed as she’d ever seen him.

“I
am sure Kit will calm down,” she said, more to placate her guest than anything
else. “He has been sensitive since his injury. I am sure he will be well on the
morrow and you can laugh together as siblings do.”

“But
you do not know Danny,” Bella said, sniffling into a delicate monogrammed
handkerchief. “He has a temper. This isn’t the first time he’s walked out in
the middle of supper.”

Violet
was suddenly grateful for her brother,
Westley
. For
all of their teasing and disagreements, they could never stay angry with one
another.

What
should she do? She wanted to go to Kit. He was clearly very upset and while
he’d perhaps overreacted, the duchess was quite a handful. Violet had never met
a more vivacious—and garrulous—person in all of her life.

“Kit
is a man used to having command of everything and everyone,” Violet said. “It
is not in his nature to relinquish control to anyone. But you are his elder,
and may I presume that your parents died when he was young?” Bella nodded. “I
think he does not know how to communicate with you as an equal. In your eyes,
he will always be Danny rather than Lord
Kittrick
.”

It
had taken John’s death for
Westley
to accept the fact
that Violet was a grown woman and could make her own decisions. When their
mother and father died, he’d taken on the entire responsibility of her
well-being onto himself, though she never expected that of him.

Violet
stood and patted the duchess on the shoulder. “He must love you dearly,
Isabella. He would never let me reprimand him as you have done. And were you a
man, such an argument would have come to blows or pistols at dawn.”

“You
know him very well, don’t you, Mrs.—Violet,” Freddy said, biting his lip
after correcting himself. “
Kittrick
is just as you
said. But it took me a good deal longer to understand him.”

“Kit
is who he is. He’s a boy who grew up very fast, who wants his family’s approval
even as he rails against it. He knows he will never live up to his sister’s
expectations, so most of the time, he refuses to try.”

“I
am only trying to help him.” Bella looked up into Violet’s eyes and this time
she did not see a duchess, but a frightened girl in the midst of a storm. It
was hard to be angry at such an effervescent creature, despite her injudicious
behavior. Isabella and Kit were both wounded by the absence of their parents
and each tried to compensate for it in imprudent ways.

“Let
me go and talk to him,” Violet offered.

“I
will go with you.”

“No!”
Both Freddy and Violet yelled. They exchanged a knowing glance. Bella was too
mercurial and Kit needed a calm, reasonable person to talk with right now.

“I
will see to him, do not worry.” Violet gave Bella’s hand a squeeze as she walked
from the room.

She
headed toward the stairs until she saw Adam pointing down the hall. Violet
found Kit in the study, helping himself to a glass of brandy.

“Pour
me a glass.” Violet came into the room and sat down. As she watched his face,
she saw the blackness in his eyes, which had nothing to do with the faint
candlelight in the room.

His
hand shook as he dipped the decanter and filled her glass. When he set it down,
she touched his hand, which was warm under her own.

“You
do not have to say anything,” she told him.

“Good.”

His
look made her shiver. Should she take him in her arms and kiss him—as she
wanted to do? Or should she proceed gingerly and let him speak on his own time?

She
listened to the sound of his breathing, heard him gulp down the fiery liquid.
He poured another glass.

After
a few minutes, Violet decided to speak. “I am sorry that you had a fight with
Isabella. I know that upset you and while she only wants to help you, she made
things much worse.”

“Aye.
She did.”

His
pursed lips gave nothing away. The tension in him was as tangible as a bow
string, pulled back and ready to aim.

“She
will never forgive herself for not being the perfect mother. Maybe you should
forgive her.”

“I
never expected her to be.”

Violet
licked her lips and watched him. His hair glistened in the soft orange light
and the side of his face was masked in shadow.

“You
want her to treat you as a friend, but you have to understand that she will
never be that. Not to you.”

“Why?”
His dark eyes looked like polished onyx and the break in his voice gave the
tear away.

“Bella
will always be your guardian, the meddlesome sister who expects more of you
than she expects of anyone else.”

“I
am the head of the family, Violet. I am the one to make the decisions. Yet she
argues with me at every turn.”

“She
loves you. She feels responsible for everything you do. Every choice you make,
good or bad, reflects on her.”

His
voice sliced the air, a thick sword cutting through the fabric that held them
together. “You would take
her
side?
Over mine?”

“I
have taken no one’s side, Kit. Your sister is distraught and crying. I only
hoped you would understand why she does as she does.”

“What
I understand is that she has no respect for me.” His glass jostled as he threw
it down. “What I understand is that you came in here to defend her. She was
rude to you. She disrespected your home, taking over everything in a few hours
as if she were the queen in residence. Why would you defend her?”

Violet
stood to stroke his face. “We are all afraid of something, Kit. She is afraid
of losing you, losing her parents, of not living up to whatever promises she
made to take care of you. Though she goes about it the wrong way, her
intentions are good.”

As
she spoke, Violet thought of her troubled relationship with her own father.
She’d spent so much time trying to please him, trying to be the perfect
daughter and when he’d begun losing his mind at the end, he fought her
tooth-and-nail though she only sought his safety and comfort. But she had
promised her mother and
Westley
that she would take
care of him and no matter how rude he was, she could not break that promise.

Kit
sighed. “I can forgive ill intentions. I cannot forgive her continued
disrespect.”

She
knew he was hurting and she wanted to help him. But she could not hide the
truth from him. It was not in her nature. In the war, she’d learned that there
were times when the bullet, or the bandage, must be torn off.

Kit
was responsible to his family and title. It was something he had to accept,
whether or not he agreed with his sister.

“Consider
that perhaps if you acted as the marquess, if you showed some inclination
toward your responsibilities, then Bella would not act this way.”

“And
you think I should just throw off my life, marry some vapid, dimwitted
Countess, resign myself to boring days at court and parliament and a wife I
cannot stand, all so I can have two heirs and be a proper marquess?”

His
face was in hers, his breath reeked of alcohol. “I said none of that. Kit, all
your sister wants is for you to grow up. I realize that your title is not a
choice you made. But like it or not, it is yours and cannot be passed off to
anyone else until you die. Do you not want to honor your father’s legacy?”

“My
father loved whores, dice, and cards. Sometimes he loved stable boys, too.” Kit
waived his hand. “Do not tell Bella that. Bella has this memory of our father
as a hero, as a man who fought for his country, to subdue the brash Americans
and restore the great and noble rule of Britain.” His voice slurred as he spat
the words out.

“Then
do better than he. Be better than he was.”

Violet
realized now that the reason he didn’t tell her about his past had more to do
with his family than it did her. Why would he want to go home if he only felt
reproach and ridicule from his only sibling and caretaker?

“I
am my own man.”

“Yes,
you are, Kit. But being a man also means doing things you do not want to do.
Because it is right and necessary, not because it is pleasurable or expedient.”
She’d learned that in the war, with her family, even with John.