Dating Two Dragons (58 page)

“How awful,” Violet said, unable to picture the man she knew Dalton to be as one who was capable of such love.  She had seen a glimpse of it, she supposed, when he had shown her his studio but it had faded as quickly as it had revealed itself.

“Yes.  After that, his paintings took on a much darker tone,” his sister explained sadly..

“To match his soul,” Violet whispered sadly.

“Yes, she quite broke him,” Gwen continued, her love for her brother apparent.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Violet responded, not sure what else to say.

“I will not say I am sorry she threw him over. A marriage to her would have crushed his soul slowly.  At least the quick slice of heartbreak will heal with time and he remains free to find a true love,” Gwen said, smiling suddenly at the thought.

“How long has it been?” Violet asked, not entirely sure why she felt such a deep need to understand what had hurt him so deeply.  The question, which she had worried would offend Gwendolyn with its boldness, had the opposite effect.  She smiled and eyed Violet in a calculating fashion.

“Nearly a year,” Gwen said, smiling like the cat that got in to the cream.

“Oh my,” Violet said, trying to imagine how Dalton had been when the pain was fresh for him.

“He will come through it.  He just needs to find the right woman to distract him,” Gwen said, smiling at Violet in such a way that Violet finally realized what his sister had in mind.

“You are a conniving one!” she exclaimed, unable to keep from smiling at her new friend’s plan.

“I do try to be,” Gwen said with a playful wink.

Chapter 6

A few days later, Violet was enjoying a particularly lovely afternoon outside in Gwen’s garden when Dalton arrived to disrupt her solitude.  Violet hated the fact that the sight of him made her heart skip a beat.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, making no effort to greet him civilly.

“I am here often to visit my sister,” he said defensively, clearly uncomfortable by her lack of fawning over him, but she could not pretend that she was not hurt by their last encounter and the knowledge that his heart was still so deeply affected by a past love.

“Your sister is not here,” she said, rising from the bench she had been sitting on and walking deeper in to the garden, thinking that he would make his way inside to find his sister.  For some reason, it pained her to be near him now that she knew the truth of what had made him so suspicious of woman.

“No but I owe you an apology for how abrupt I was with you the other day,” he said, suddenly looking shy.

“No you don't.  I promise you, I understand how personally you are connected to your art.  I should not have looked at pieces you did not intend for anyone to see,” she said, doing her best to put the sinking feeling that developed in her stomach every time she thought of his love for the beautiful woman in his paintings. 

“Thank you for understanding but I was still rude,” he said, following her as she continued to walk along the path towards the heart of the gardens.

“An artist is entitled to be temperamental,” she said, hoping to placate him so that he would feel he had finished making his amends and move along.

“I brought you a peace offering,” he said with a grin as he reached in the sack he had hung over his shoulder.

“You did not need to do that,” she said without stopping or turning to face him.  She could not deny that seeing him in his studio had awakened feelings in her for him and she knew that she could not indulge them.  Being there, alone, with him was not going to help her to push away the attachment she had begun to feel for him and she knew that she needed to because it was clear that his heart belonged to another.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said, looking quite proud of himself as he hurried in front of her and began to walk backwards, holding out a package to her that was wrapped in brown paper.

“Alright,” she conceded, stopping her walking and taking the package from his hands.

“Go on, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes lit up in anticipation.  She sat down on a nearby rock wall and lay the package in her lap.  Slowly, she began to remove the paper to reveal a leather case and what she found inside made her heart soar with joy.

“Oh my,” she whispered as she opened the case to reveal all the paints and brushes that one could possibly need.

“I think it is everything you will need to start painting again,” he said with genuine excitement.  “I had the canvases put in the solarium.  Gwendolyn said that you can use it as a studio if you would like.  If not, I am sure we can find you another place in the house that will work for you to paint in.

“This is too generous,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.  The thought of being able to create again meant so much to her, more than she could even have imagined it would.

“My sister told me that she offered to buy you paints while you wait for a response from your family but you would not let her,” he pointed out.  It was true, Gwen had after their conversation about Dalton’s studio.  She could not allow it though, not after all that she had given her.

“She and her husband have already been too generous,” she said, trying to keep her tears from falling.

“It brings her joy to fuss over people,” Dalton said, smiling with a clear fondness for his sister.

“I already feel terrible for taking advantage of her kindness,” Violet explained, knowing that there was no way that she could ever repay their kindness.

“I did not mean to make you feel badly,” he assured her, kneeling in front of her and taking her hand in his as he spoke.

“I know, I have just always taken care of myself.  I hate feeling helpless here,” she explained as her tears began to fall in earnest.

“I get the distinct impression that you could never be entirely helpless,” he said as he smiled at her with admiration.

“Thank you,” she whispered, unable to keep from smiling through her tears at his words.

“Most ladies would not take that as a compliment
,” he smirked, rising from the ground to take a seat beside her on the stone wall.

“Did you not mean it as one?” she asked with a giggle that she could not keep from escaping her mouth.

“Oh I most definitely meant it to be a compliment,” he said with a tone of heat in his voice that thrilled her.

“We Americans enjoy self-sufficiency,” she said saucily, trying to put her sadness aside.

“Do you know at all how you came to be here?” he asked, leaning towards her as he spoke.  The sweet smell of coffee and tobacco surrounded her and she could not remember a more appeal scent in all of her like.

“I truly have no idea,” she murmured, leaning towards him instinctively.

“Whatever it is that brought you here I am glad,” his said, his eyes looking deeply in to hers.

“Suddenly, so am I,” she whispered, biting her lip as she stared at his mouth.  She knew with every fiber of her being that he was about to kiss her and she could hardly stand the anticipation.

When he finally did press his lips to hers, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.  She had expected that he would be timid, treating her like a gentile lady of his time.  Instead, his mouth crashed down on hers as though he was trying to stake a claim on her and her body responded eagerly.  Her arms wrapped around his neck and, in one motion, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her on to his lap to give himself better access to her mouth as his free hand began to explore the curves of her body. 

When his mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck, she whispered, “Fireworks!”

“What did you say,” he asked, causing her to moan in disappointment as he lifted his mouth from her neck.

“Nothing,” she assured him, leaning in to him and savoring every inch of his body against hers.

“We better get down to lunch before my sister comes looking for us,” he said, though his mouth immediately returned to hers.  He seemed to be unable to keep himself from kissing her and that was just fine with her.

“Yes, you are right,” she muttered after a few more moments of passion, not wanting to attract suspicion from Gwen.

“Can I see you again soon,” he asked, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Yes,” she said, pressing her forehead to his and biting her lip in an attempt to keep her desire for him in check.

“Would you like to go to the park tomorrow? Perhaps we could paint together,” he suggested with a smile.

“I would love that,” she cried aloud as she kissed him on the cheek, full of joy at the thought of a day of painting with him. 

“I will arrange it with my sister.  We will need her to be our chaperone,” he explained, though he did not look happy at the thought of not being alone with her.

“Really?” she asked, surprised that he was bound so much by propriety when it was clear that they both wanted to enjoy each other without watching eyes.

“Do proper American ladies not need chaperones?” he teased, his eyebrows raised in mock horror.

“I suppose it is proper, though inconvenient,” she said, doing her best to look as though she was pouting.

“I like your spirit,” he laughed as he pulled her close again for one more long, lingering kiss before they made their way back to the house.

Chapter 7
 

The next day Dalton arrived early in his carriage to collect Gwendolyn and Violet for their excursion to the park to paint.  His loving sister met him in the foyer, her eyes sparkling.

“It is a beautiful day,” Gwen observed after embracing him.

“Yes, the light is lovely to paint in,” Dalton remarked, though his eyes were not on her as he spoke.  He was looking about, waiting for Violet to arrive.

“Yes, I am sure painting is what you have on your mind Brother,” Gwen smirked.

“I do not know what you mean,” he replied, though he did finally look away from the staircase long enough to give his sister a warning glance.

“I think you do,” she said with a knowing look.

“Where is Violet?” he asked impatient to see her again.

“She is upstairs.  I have not sent a servant to fetch her yet,” his sister explained, though she usually would have upon hearing his carriage arrive. 
She needed a few moments alone with her brother first.

“Why on earth not? We will lose the light,” he demanded, annoyed to be so close to Violet and yet unable to see her.

“What are you doing with her?” his sister asked, her chin raised as though she was challenging him to lie to her.

“Not a thing. I am just trying to make her feel welcome,” he said, though he did not meet her eyes when he spoke.

“Is that all?” she asked, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips.

“Of course,” he said, much too adamantly to be believed.

“Because if you cared for her, it would be one thing,” she began, but he was quick to interrupt her.

“How could I care for a strange woman that we just met days ago?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air as he spoke.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “if you cared for her it would be one thing, but if not then you need to be careful. She is alone in a strange place and she is a part of my household.  She is my responsibility and I will not see her taken advantage of.”

“I would never do that.  I would never hurt her,” he said, betraying with his eyes just how much he cared for Violet.

“I have seen the way you have burned through woman since Celeste broke your heart.  It's like you have been on a mission to break as many hearts as possible,” Gwendolyn accused, unable to ignore her brother’s past.

“I would never do that to her,” he vowed.

“Why not?” she pushed, forcing him to face his feelings.

“She is different,” he explained, but his sister was not content with his vague answer.

“Why? What makes her different?” she continued, her eyes unblinking as she stared at him and awaited his response.

“She is special,” he said, smiling at the thought of Violet and all the things that made her so different than any woman he had known before.

“That seems a lot like caring,” his sister said with a gentle smile as she placed her hand gently on his arm.

“I do not like where this conversation is going,” he said, shaking his head and trying to push away the thought of how sweet it would be to have Violet as his own.  He had sworn when Celeste broke his heart that he would never give another woman the power to do it again and he had no intention of breaking that vow.

“Just be sure you know what you are doing.  She is in a vulnerable position here. I will not see her hurt,” Gwen said, looking very much like their mother as she scolded him.

“What if I did not hurt her?” he asked, unable to shake the image of Violet from his mind.

“Then I would be very glad that you were letting yourself care for someone again,” she said as she hugged him tightly.