place by his master. He’d dealt with a lot of those issues through hard work and determination but he couldn’t help feeling Violet still had to face hers. Although he still had an axe of his own to grind with her, he wasn’t totally unsympathetic. It was best he try to make this as normal as possible for her. As if they were walking into any other family home and not the country pile of her ancestors. Easier said than done when there was a huge chandelier dominating the space in front of them.
‘We do have modern-day conveniences like central heating.’ She was still resisting his attempts to phase her into her surroundings gradually with his assistance, but he was used to dealing with difficult patients and bolshie family members.
She was more defensive than he remembered. He guessed years of independent living had toughened her up. A definite plus given his aversion to needy people outside the workplace.
‘And kettles?’
It amused him to watch her flounce away the way she used to when his teasing went too far. It was further proof her fiery spirit was very much alive. She was going to need it to see her through the next days, whatever they held.
‘Milk, no sugar,’ he called after her as he headed for the study.
It was the closest and smallest room on the ground floor, and easier to heat. The pale blue walls and ornate white ceiling of the entrance hall were pretty and in keeping with the period pieces dotted throughout but they didn’t make the cool atmosphere any more inviting. Okay, they had no practical need for a fire but there was something homely about a real fire. It was cosy and welcoming, something this house was sadly lacking.
He could sense the disapproving stares of past earls staring down at him from the walls as he trespassed into the inner sanctum. They all had the same stern features of Samuel Dempsey. Nate wondered if not smiling was another one of the house rules Violet had deigned to disobey. Ruling with an iron fist might have worked in the olden days but, as far as he’d seen, all it had succeeded in doing in recent times was shatter the family.
‘Is this where they found him?’
He hadn’t heard Violet enter the room as he’d knelt to set the fire in the hearth. It wasn’t until he turned around again that he understood why she’d sounded so pained.
Her father’s papers littered the mahogany and brass writing desk and spilled onto the floor, his chair toppled over in the corner of the room with a whiskey tumbler lying next to it—the contents of which had seeped into the antique rug long ago.
‘I’m so sorry, Violet. I had no idea. We can move into the drawing room and I’ll get this tidied up.’ Regardless of the painful history between them, he would never have purposely exposed her to this scene. He took the rattling cups and saucers from her shaking hands before she slopped the tea on the expensive furnishings too.
‘It’s all right. It was just a shock.’ She righted the heavy chair and Nate set down the tea things so he could help.
They both bent down to reach for the upturned glass at the same time, Violet’s bracelet clinking against it in the process. He reached for her wrist, curiosity getting the better of common sense.
‘Is this the one I bought you?’ It was only a cheap turquoise bead bracelet with a dainty seahorse charm hanging from it. So unlike the diamonds and pearls her mother had favoured on occasion. He was surprised it had stood the test of time, even more so to find she still wore it.
A trace of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘Yes. From the day at the aquarium.’
The day things had changed between them for ever.
‘You were fascinated by those damn seahorses.’
She’d stood for ages watching them as if she’d found her peace there and he’d wanted her to have a souvenir of that summer afternoon together. He hadn’t known it would be their last.
‘They’re just so...serene. I envy the simplicity of their life. And, of course, it’s the male who gives birth. The female seahorse has a much freer life than most women, she transfers her eggs and goes back to her own place—the onus isn’t on her to carry on the family line.’ It was a tragic narrative of Violet’s childhood when she’d been jealous of a fragile species trapped in a tank. At least now she was free of some of her burden even if it had cost Nate a piece of his heart in the process.
He flicked the charm up with his thumb so it rested on his nail. So small, so inexpensive, so evocative. If that day had meant nothing to her, if he’d meant nothing to her, why would she still be attached to it now? He felt her pulse quicken beneath him, met her eyes with his, and they were back in that bubble where nothing mattered except the chemistry.
He didn’t know who’d leaned closer to whom but suddenly they were no more than a breath away from kissing. Violet’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips were parted and waiting for him. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to give into temptation. Despite how much she’d hurt him in the past, he’d wanted to do this the minute he’d seen her again but this was typical Violet behaviour. She couldn’t drop him and pick him up when the mood took her. Not any more. Especially when she still hadn’t done him the courtesy of an apology or an explanation, never mind simply acknowledging what she’d done to him.
Unfortunately physical attraction couldn’t always override common sense. A kiss was much more than that when it was with your first love, the woman who’d broken your heart without a backward glance.
He let go of her wrist and stepped away from temptation. As he began to collect his thoughts away from her lips, the Earl’s collection of antique clocks chimed the late hour and sounded the death knell for this...whatever the hell it was.
* * *
When he didn’t swoop in and ravage her, Violet was afraid to open her eyes and face him. She’d done it again—gone with her heart instead of her head. Thank goodness one of them had been thinking clearly this time. She shuddered at how close she’d come to making another monumental mistake when she’d yet to address the last one she’d made with Nate. Her world was complicated enough now without resurrecting old emotions like zombies wandering through her life with no real purpose except causing eternal misery for everyone in their path. She needed to remember that every time she was tempted to lose herself in his embrace, that one place she was able to forget her troubles.
In her defence she’d been under a lot of pressure today and Nate had been her one source of comfort, the only familiar thing from home that didn’t make her want to run screaming. Even in his current indifferent state. She blamed her faux pas entirely on stress. Apparently making moves on hot doctors was a side effect of tangled emotions no one had warned her about. They hadn’t covered that in her course. Then again, Nate was the professional—he should’ve known he was in danger simply by being in the room with her.
In fact, he seemed to have found the best treatment for her particular case by continuing to pick up the debris around them and ignoring the latest addition to the elephant herd now parading around the room.
‘No wonder Mum was so frantic about getting this place tidied up before you set foot inside. I guess they just locked up the house once the ambulance left.’ Nate in cleaning mode was as efficient as his mother and Violet decided to follow his lead. Time and distance hadn’t made this any more feasible.
They worked quietly together, sifting her father’s correspondence into manageable piles. The quicker they got this sorted, the easier it would make it for Nate to leave. She knew him well enough to know he’d see this out until the end, when he’d fulfilled his obligation to her and his parents.
‘Violet?’ After some time he drew her attention to a stack of letters headed with bold red lettering.
‘Mmm?’
‘These are all bills. Most of them final demands.’
‘Let me see.’ She snatched a few from his grasp and confirmed it. All correspondence, most of it threatening action against him, was leading to the conclusion her father was in dire financial trouble.