The Viscount Always Knocks Twice (Heart of Enquiry Book 4) (16 page)

Violet scratched her ear. “I suppose I’d better get cleaned up, hadn’t I? Next to both of you, I look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Silly girl,” Thea said, smiling. “We’ll get you shipshape in no time.”

Back in Chudleigh Crest, the Kents had no servants. They’d done their own chores and helped each other dress. As her sisters fussed over her, Vi was reminded of those times, so simple and good. Now that Em and Thea had married, things had changed; these moments together were becoming more rare and precious. She could feel her own girlhood slipping away—torn away, in truth, by new experiences.

Mere days ago, all she’d desired was freedom. To carry on as she wanted, with no one to judge her or tell her what to do. Now she was tantalized by a different possibility, and she couldn’t deny that Carlisle had been the one to plant the seed. To awaken a dormant longing inside her.

Kents had a tradition of falling passionately in love. Although she couldn’t label her feelings toward Carlisle as love, precisely, she couldn’t deny that they were passionate. All her life, she’d adored physical activity for the way it made her feel: fully present in her own skin. Carlisle had the same effect on her… only
more
so.

Being with him was more exhilarating than any sport. And it wasn’t just the lovemaking. Thinking about the unexpected gentleness beneath his gruff exterior made her pulse speed up.

Could she have misjudged his character all along? But there was what Wick had said about him. What sort of man would force his brother into an unhappy marriage to correct his own mistakes? Yet Carlisle was clearly concerned for his brother’s welfare. Thunder and turf, he was
concealing evidence
to protect Wick.

She couldn’t reconcile these facts. Clearly, she didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle. She resolved to ferret out the truth at the first opportunity.

“Breathe out,” Thea said.

Air whooshed from Vi’s lungs as her sister knotted the corset strings.

“So tell me more about Lord Carlisle,” Thea said. “It sounds as if things have changed between the two of you.”

Crumbs.
Her emotions already felt raw and exposed; she didn’t know if she wanted to share them. “Um, changed?”

Emma jumped in. “Before the party, you couldn’t stand him—and understandably, given the gossip he’d started. But now the two of you seem as thick as thieves. In the study this morning, Carlisle appeared inordinately protective of you and concerned for your well-being.”

Em’s observation gave Vi a little thrill. She was beginning to see that perhaps her judgement hadn’t always been sound when it came to Carlisle. It was comforting to have her sister’s opinion. Hmm, maybe she ought to try confiding a little more.

Testing the waters, she ventured, “What if I said Carlisle’s not as bad as I once believed?”

“What changed your mind?” Em said.

His kisses… how kind he can be… the fact that we’re presently concealing evidence together?

“I think he and I got off on the wrong foot,” she said.

Em’s brows lifted. “That’s it? A simple case of misunderstanding?”

If she wanted her sisters’ advice on relationship matters, she couldn’t furnish them with half-truths. They needed to know how she and Carlisle had started off.

She sighed inwardly.
Time to face the firing squad.

“Do you remember the Yuletide ball where Carlisle fell into the fountain? He, um, sort of... had some help. From me.” Her breath held as she awaited their response.

Thea paused in the adjusting of petticoats to look at Emma. “You were right after all.”

Instead of looking surprised, Em looked pleased with herself. “It wasn’t difficult to deduce.”

Vi stared at her siblings. “You mean you
knew
the entire time that I was responsible for Carlisle’s fall?”

“Well, not for certain,” Em said. “But I guessed.”

“How?”

“Let’s face it, dear, you were never good at prevaricating. Your accounting of your time at the Yuletide ball was always a bit suspect, and there were those champagne stains on your gown.” Her sister’s tone was dry. “Then there was the way you leapt to Carlisle’s defense when we were making light of the accident. It smacked of guilt.”

“I was that obvious?” Vi muttered.

“Only to someone who knows you.” Em canted her head. “Why didn’t you just tell us what happened, dear?”

Vi studied her toes. “I was embarrassed. And I didn’t want you to be cross at me, Em.”

“Why would I be cross?” Her sister sounded puzzled.

“Because you’re always reminding me to act less like a hoyden. To curb my behavior.” Vi hitched her shoulders in a self-deprecating shrug. “You know, to be less, well,
me
.”

“But that’s not true. I want you to be you. I’m just worried that—”

“I know you have my best interests at heart,” Vi said quickly. “It’s just that sometimes I can’t help being who I am.”

“Who else would you be?” A notch formed between Emma’s brows. “The
ton
—it’s not a forgiving place, and I don’t want you to get hurt. But neither do I want you to change the essence of who you are.”

A tremulous warmth crept through Violet’s chest. “You mean that, truly?”

“I do. Darling girl,”—Em reached out, tucked a stray curl behind Vi’s ear—“you’re special and wonderful. Can’t you be that…
and
a little more careful?”

Vi loved her sisters. She truly did.

“You’re right. I really ought to think before I act.” Expelling a breath, she confessed, “I didn’t
intend
to push Carlisle into the fountain. But I lost my temper, and the next moment he was bathing in champagne. I felt horrible about it for days.”

Her sisters looked at one another—and erupted into gales of laughter.

“It’s not amusing,” Vi protested.

“I know, dear,” Thea said between gasps, “but I can’t help it. If you felt horrible, imagine… imagine how poor Carlisle felt!”

“Felled by a female. I’m sure that was a blow to his pride,” Emma said with a chuckle.

Feeling lighthearted now that a burden had been lifted from her chest, Vi gave a snort. “He’ll recover. After all, he has plenty of pride to spare.”

“He is a bit of a stuffed shirt, isn’t he?” Em said.

“He has good qualities, too,” she protested.

“What are they?” Thea said slyly.

“Although he can be a bit old-fashioned… he’s an honorable man.”

As she said the words, she realized the truth of them. Carlisle had protected her reputation after she’d made him a laughingstock. After they’d kissed, he’d made her an offer—true, it was the worst marriage proposal in the history of Christendom, but it was the intention that counted, wasn’t it? He’d even owned up to his mistakes, apologizing when he realized that he’d hurt her.

“And despite his bluster, he’s kinder than he lets on,” she mused.

Thea returned from the wardrobe with Vi’s evening gown. “According to Lady Blackwood, her husband has the highest opinion of Carlisle. Says he’s a gentleman’s gentleman, the kind of man you’d want at your back in a battle.”

She thought of the Priest Hole, how he’d found it before she had. He was competitive, a man of action, and she admired that. And as annoying as his stubbornness could be, there was no denying his strength of will and commitment.

“There
is
something reliable about him. And he’s a solid, quick-witted chap.” Why hadn’t she recognized his good qualities earlier?

“Some gentlemen improve upon acquaintance,” Thea said as if reading her mind. “What we think of as pride might in actuality be a reserved nature. A sort of discomfort around others. I should know: when I first met Tremont, he seemed standoffish as well.”

“His reserve didn’t last long around you, Thea,” Em said with a wink.

Thea blushed.

Emma adjusted a floaty sleeve. “Now, Vi, are you forming an attachment to Carlisle?”

Leave it to her sister to hit the nail on the head. In the past, Violet might have tried to evade the question out of embarrassment. She was still far from comfortable sharing her feelings, but she was learning the benefit of being more open.

“How would I know?” she asked. “How did the both of
you
know?”

“I was attracted to Tremont from the moment we met. He was so handsome, and I felt tingles whenever he was nearby,” Thea said dreamily.

Vi started a mental list.

Tingles. Check.

“Did you feel tingles too, Emma?” she asked.

“Yes, but they were overshadowed by a strong desire to throttle Strathaven. His Grace was, without a doubt, the most frustrating man I’d ever met.” A grin tucked into Em’s cheeks as she worked on the buttons on the back of Vi’s dress. “He still is, bless him.”

Frustration. Double check.

“I know what you mean,” Violet said with feeling. “At times, Carlisle and I seem to bring out the worst in each other.”

“In what way?” Em said.

“Well, he has a tendency to be domineering and conservative. Whereas I’m, you know…
me.
I’m not exactly a run-of-the-mill miss
.
”

“A hereditary condition, I’m afraid. Luckily, normality is an overrated quality.” Em shook Vi’s skirts into place. “Just ask our husbands who couldn’t give a whit about it.”

“Tremont thinks I’m normal,” Thea said.

Emma’s brows lifted. “You… who foiled the plot of a nefarious spy?”

“Well, I can
pass
for normal.” Thea’s smile was demure. “Under exigent circumstances.”

“The point
being
, the most important thing one can be in a relationship is oneself. Who else can one be after all?” Stepping back, Em inspected Vi. “I think you’re ready, dear. Go have a look in the looking glass.”

Vi trotted over to the long oval mirror—and her lips tipped up in her reflection. She loved the rich hue accomplished by layering pale golden gauze over saffron satin. When she moved, the golden threads caught the light, glimmering. As the
coup de grace
, tiny golden blossoms had been embroidered onto the gauze, drifting playfully over the full skirts and piling up richly at the hem.

Twisting this way and that, she breathed, “This gown is the
utmost.
”

Her sisters’ smiling faces appeared behind her.

“How lovely you are. The gown suits you perfectly,” Thea said.

“And, in the end, finding the right husband is no different from finding the right dress. One must consider the fit,” Em said prosaically, “and whether or not he accentuates one’s best qualities. In his presence, one ought to feel confident and at one’s best.”

Memories of Carlisle’s kisses and his warmly possessive touch caused a melting sensation in Violet’s midsection. Those times with Carlisle had been sublime. Despite the sisterly confidences shared this eve, however, she wasn’t quite up to revealing
that
tidbit.

Passion aside, she wasn’t sure of the fit between her and Carlisle. Their connection felt both vibrant and fragile, like a breathtaking gown that could snag at any moment. She was beginning to recognize his good qualities… but was he seeing hers? When it came down to it, she wasn’t even sure he
liked
her.

Swallowing, she said, “Given how we started, do you think it’s possible that Carlisle and I could learn to bring out the best in one another?”

“Conflict is oft the prelude to romance,” Thea said in philosophical tones. “Remember how Emma and His Grace were when they first met?”

“We’re still that way,” Em put in cheerfully, “but we have learned to compromise and that makes all the difference.”

Compromise.
Well, she would try. And that reminded her of something else.

“Em, may I ask you a favor?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you speak to Ambrose about letting me join the investigation? I promise I’ll be guided by you, will act under your supervision. Please, Em,” she pleaded, “I
know
I can help, and I want to be a part of this.”

Her sister studied her. “It’s that important to you, Violet?”

“Remember how
you
felt when you were barred from helping Strathaven?”

During the murder investigation that had brought Emma and His Grace together, the former had had to fight to be included in the proceedings. To be taken seriously… as Violet wished to be.

“I remember. All too well.” Em gave a brisk nod. “I’ll talk to Ambrose, but I’m not guaranteeing anything will come of it.”

“Thank you!” Vi threw her arms around her eldest sister. “You won’t regret it.”

Em returned the hug, sighing, “I hope you’re right.”

Chapter Sixteen

Richard stood with Blackwood in the ballroom after supper. The mirrored walls made the grand space appear even larger, magnifying the effect of the pink marble floors and crystal chandeliers. The night was surprisingly balmy, and the balcony doors that lined one side of the dance floor were left open, navy curtains stirring in the breeze.

Whatever one could say about Billings, the banker did indeed know how to “handle” situations. As he’d predicted, the guests seemed remarkably blasé about the fact that Madame Monique had passed away the night before. The rough-and-tumble portion of the crowd was enjoying the fine victuals as if nothing had happened. The bluebloods, on the other hand, were speculating with titillated abandon over the cause of the “accident.” No one appeared distressed by the fact that a woman had been found dead in the library.

“No reason to let a little thing like death get in the way of a good time.” Blackwood’s dry observation echoed Richard’s own. “Now if my sons were here, they’d be in tears. They adore Astley’s and Madame Monique in particular, God rest her. Speaking of which, how are you holding up, old boy? It can’t have been pleasant… finding her.”

Although Kent’s plan was to keep details from the general public, the Blackwoods, being trusted friends, were an exception to the rule.

“I’m fine.” Richard straightened as he saw Violet enter the room. By Jove, she was a vibrant bloom. The now familiar yearning gripped him. They’d been seated apart at supper, and he’d found himself missing her company. “It’s Miss Kent I’m worried about.”

“Changed your opinion of her at last, have you?”