Ours Is Just a Little Sorrow (14 page)

When my stomach settled, Min told me I'd best get home before I got into any more trouble.

The problem was that trouble seemed to be everywhere I looked.

Chapter 11

I
T WAS ONLY a night later that brought yet another ghost to Thornfield.

"Where is she?" Gideon's voice boomed from the entryway. "Violet! Violet where are you?"

I stood warily from my perch at the kitchen table where I'd been keeping vigil with Claire and Jeannette, his shouts thundering through the house as he
closed in on my whereabouts. He slid into the room, spinning in a typhoon of dark emotion, his hair in disarray, his unbuttoned coat flying behind him like
a sail.

He stopped dead in his tracks, panting and red-eyed. "Violet," he said simply, my name a prayer on his lips as if he hadn't just roiled through the night
to find me.

"Yes, Mr. Winston?" I glanced at the two maids I'd been sharing tea with, hoping they didn't deduce too much familiarity from Gideon's manner. "What can I
do for you?"

His jaw clenched and his throat worked mightily around words that would not form. "There is a problem. Come with me."

Not waiting for me to comply he steered me to the door by my elbow.

"Is it Phillip? Is Phillip all right?"

My feet barely touched the floor as he herded me into the first empty room he came across, closing and locking the door behind us.

"Gideon, is Phillip well? You're scaring me."

"I'm scaring you?" He shoved me against the door and took my lips in crazed ravishment, his arms like iron bands holding me still. The dark storm seized us
both, throwing us overboard into a heady sea as he kissed and kissed me.

As if he were suddenly spent, he slumped against me, breathing into my neck, pulling the pins from my hair.

"Gideon?" He didn't answer but for the hoarse breaths he drew. "Gideon, did you know…had you heard? Marisol has gone missing."

"Marisol," he said into my skin. He shuddered, great racking quakes that shook us both. "They found a body, Violet. They said…they said they'd never
seen anything like it. They found it in pieces."

Bile threatened, churning in my stomach, making me take deep breaths. "Marisol?" I whispered.

"I don't know." He raised his head and examined me as if committing my face to memory. "I was standing at a street vendor when I overheard two constables
talking about their gruesome find. One said he thought she was a maid from Thornfield." He paused and began to shake anew. "I didn't know Marisol was
missing, Violet. I went crazy thinking it might be you."

"Oh, Gideon." I pulled his head to my chest and stroked his hair, whispering into the downy softness of it. "I'm fine. I'm here."

He squeezed me as if to prove I was really there, in his arms. "I couldn't…God, Violet. I barely remember getting here. I couldn't take the time to
even call. I was afraid….afraid that if I didn't see you for myself, that if I tempted fate with the question, then surely the answer would be you."

"Shh." I held him close and we slid down the door. He laid his head in my lap and I stroked his locks, whispering nonsense words to comfort us both from a
truth that would not find relief.

The world had gone mad, but this time, this time I had someone I could hold on to.

When he was calmer, he checked the hall for witnesses and led me to my chambers, locking the door behind him. He undressed me so carefully, as if I were
made of porcelain and my clothes fragile silk. He stepped back and explored me with his eyes, my skin heating everywhere his gaze touched me.

"Is it right to do this tonight?" I asked. It was never right, but felt disrespectful, somehow, to Marisol.

"We have to find grace where we can, sprite." He was more ruthless with his own attire, and by then I was grateful for him to speed up.

I needed to feel him naked against me, naked inside me. I needed it like I needed air.

Gideon didn't, however, speed things up. A calm had prevailed over him, the quiet eye of the tempest, and he kissed me sweetly, tempering my heat with his
cool. I arched into him, willing him into my body, but he took his time, murmuring sweet words into my skin, imprinting what had been mine into his. When
at last he entered me, he did so achingly slow. He held my hands pinioned to the pillow on either side of my head, and he looked into my eyes and he held
us in that infinite moment without moving.

I'm afraid I gave him everything then. My eyes betrayed the things I'd left unsaid, and he took it all in, knowing me in a way I'd been trying to hold
back.

"Jesus, Violet, you're the heart before the break."

I couldn't ask what he meant, for he began to move slowly, deliciously between my thighs, and I gave up the worries that tethered me to this world so I
could fly with him on another. Time held us in a place apart from the rest. There was only the slide of skin, the heat of love, and the crash of souls.

I watched him as he let go, all the powerful man and beast roaring into the night. And when he returned to me, he laid battle weary on my chest. I couldn't
imagine returning to what we once knew for I was changed…he was changed. We'd ripped down the seam of our world, tearing the stitches out, never once
thinking what would become of us without the very fabric of our lives.

"There you are."

I found Gideon in the library pouring himself a drink. He turned, glass in hand. It was filled near to the top, not the two to three fingers most gentlemen
used. I blinked my surprise, but made no comment.

I made sure the door was closed firmly behind me. It had been two days since Gideon had made love to me last. I tried to remember I had no claim to his
time, but I missed him.

I crossed the room, conscious that my drab brown dress covered all the parts that might entice him. "I have a free day coming up. I thought I might visit
the cemetery. Shelby's employer paid for a marker. I wondered if you'd like to go with me."

He said nothing for a long time and shook his head. "I don't think so."

"It wouldn't be prudent, I know," I answered, trying to swallow back against the rising of my heart in my chest. Something was wrong. "I didn't mean we
should leave the house together. I thought perhaps you could meet me."

"I'm sure John will be happy to take you."

His words were a slap in the face. "Why would John go with me?"

Gideon downed half his drink in an angry swallow. "He's sweet on you, surely you can see that? He'd be a better companion for such a thing."

I tread carefully across the words he'd thrown out, searching for an accusation or an explanation of what had troubled him so. "John is my friend, but it's
your company I was seeking."

"Did you know that my father hates women?" It seemed a rhetorical question, so I waited for more. "He hated my mother most of all. She died giving birth to
Phillip, but what nobody ever says is that she gave birth at the bottom of the stairs." He stared into the fire grate, though no fire was set. "He thinks
all women are whores. I remember him saying that to her more than once."

"Gideon-"

"I don't think that's true, but I do believe that all men are bastards. Especially me. I'm the worst kind. I pretend I'm different when I'm not. I'm a
right bloody bastard, just like him."

He was scaring me. "Perhaps I'll leave you to your brandy and we can speak later."

My hand was on the door. "It's over, Violet."

I didn't move, didn't turn, didn't breathe. "I see."

"Do you? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I pivoted with the handle of my escape firm in my grip. The color rose and fell in my face as the heat prickled into ice that first covered my skin, then
journeyed inward. "I take your meaning, sir."

I thought I felt cold, but it was nothing compared to the expression on Gideon's face. "Well, you always were a smart girl."

Nay, not a smart girl. A very foolish one. I'd risked my career for a chance to touch the stars, but forgot that they were light already dead. I let my
chin have its due, thrusting proudly as if the world weren't caving in around us. "Were you expecting histrionics then?"

He laughed that sharp, mirthless noise he makes in the company of those he holds no respect for. "I should have known better. No smelling salts for our
Miss Merriweather." He downed the rest of his chosen poison. "Though my pride may require a tear, I'm glad of your pragmatism."

His pride.
His
pride? And what of mine? Was I to have none? Of course not. This was what I earned by allowing my pride and heart to reign my
sense. I was a servant. A woman. An orphan. I'd had the good fortune of a station in a good home, and I threw it away to dally with my employer. "Perhaps
the next governess can hold your attention longer."

Gideon shook his head. "There will be no new governess. Your position here is safe. Nobody need know."

Every word from his mouth transferred more frost to my heart, so I decided to keep him talking. The more encased in ice it was, the less likely it would
ever thaw again, and that was my new goal. "The way you bellowed my name through the manor the other night made sure that the household does indeed know
something. It won't be long before I'm gone, Gideon. At least you won't have to be reminded of your mistake at every meal, though, right?"

"I am
your
mistake, not the other way around, Violet."

None of it made sense. The last time we'd been together, he'd been unraveled with need. How could he change his feelings like a new shirt? I wanted to ask,
wanted to beg for explanation, really, but would not. I would learn my lesson from this and learn it well. I'd promised myself after Shelby's death never
to allow another into my heart and look what I'd almost done. Had any more time passed on our love affair, surely I would have fallen in love with him, and
then where would I be?

"If that is all then, Mr. Winston?"

He narrowed his eyes at me in a thinly veiled glare as if I were the one causing this scene. He shook his head berating himself in an argument taking place
where only he could hear. He turned back to his precious decanter to refill the ache that no human alive could do for him. "Marry John, Violet. It won't
take much. A few smiles, a fleeting glance or two. He'll fall over himself to secure your future."

"John deserves a woman who loves him. As it happens, I am barren in more ways than one."

I didn't cry as I quietly left the room. Not one tear. Not that night or any night after. Gideon would simply have to find another way to heal his wounded
pride.

If Minerva was surprised to see me on my next free day, she didn't show it.

I handed her a parcel.

"What's this," she asked.

"Lily's belongings."

She cocked her head for a better explanation.

"A dress, some coin, a very old, yet still working PEAD, and a letter of recommendation from her last employer. Everything she'll need to get a fresh start
once she's regained some of her health."