wanted Violet to meet his brothers’ wives before the ball. Maybe he thought it would be easier if she was surrounded by family when they arrived.
Violet halted before they reached the door. “Do you think this dress is all right? It isn’t cut too low?” It was fashioned of topaz silk with a full, gold-shot overskirt ruched up on the sides. The same gold-shot fabric draped over her bosom, which was low enough to expose a glimpse of her cleavage. She was a married woman, no longer a child, and she had decided to dress accordingly.
“Are you joking? The gown is delicious. I like it even better than my own.” A deep blue velvet that set off Caroline’s pretty blue eyes. “Now let’s go. We have kept them waiting too long already.”
Violet took a shaky breath and followed her cousin out the door. When she reached the top of the stairs, she spotted Rule waiting for her at the bottom. Her breath caught. Dear Lord, it ought to be a sin for a man to look that good. Dressed head to foot in black except for a silver waistcoat, white shirt and cravat, he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. She might have called him beautiful if it weren’t for his solid jaw and the slight indentation in his chin.
He looked up at her, his blue eyes so intense she felt as if he reached out and touched her.
“You are staring at him like a schoolgirl,” Caroline whispered, making Violet blush. “Go on down and join him.”
Violet took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and started down the stairs, thinking how ridiculous it was to let a man’s appearance make her feel light-headed. She was back in control by the time she reached the bottom of the staircase, Caroline a step behind.
“You ladies look lovely,” Rule said, his eyes running over her but never once straying toward Caroline as a lot of men’s did. Her cousin was blonde and lovely and far more the coquette than Violet.
Rule offered an arm to each of them. “Come. I want you to meet my brothers’ wives, Elizabeth and Lily.”
Violet ignored a sweep of nerves. She wouldn’t be Rule’s wife for long, but still she wanted his family to like her. Her heart raced as he led them into his elegant drawing room. The brothers rose at their entrance.
Violet looked past them to the women at their sides. Gowned in sea-green silk, Royal’s wife, Lily, was as blonde and fair as he. Reese’s wife, the Countess of Aldridge, was a petite woman dressed in sapphire-blue with alert gray eyes and her husband’s same black hair.
Introductions were made, both women watching her with undisguised fascination. When Caroline was introduced to the group, all of them were friendly, yet the women’s attention remained focused on the newest member of the Dewar family.
“It’s wonderful to meet you at last,” the duchess said graciously. “Though I am still coming to grips with the notion that Rule has finally taken a wife. We were afraid he would remain a bachelor for the rest of his life.”
Violet managed a smile. “Actually, he has been married for the past three years.”
“So we gathered,” Elizabeth said darkly. Rule had said she preferred not to use the title she retained as her former husband’s widow, insisting Violet address her merely as Elizabeth or Beth. “Rule should have told us, of course, but he has always been a man of surprises.” She flicked him a reproving glance.
Clearly the Dewar women spoke their minds, which Violet found strangely comforting.
Lily asked about her sea voyage, and Caroline asked the two women about their children—the nieces and nephews Rule proudly claimed.
“They are growing up far too quickly,” Elizabeth said. “My son Jared will soon be thirteen and off to boarding school. Fortunately, his younger brother, Marcus, will be home, keeping me busy for a few more years.” She laughed. “He has always been more of a handful than his brother.”
“Girls are just as bad,” Lily said with a smile. “Marybeth can’t sit still for a minute.”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t the easiest child to raise,” Caroline put in. “According to my mother, I got into everything I could get my hands on. And Violet was quite the tomboy, being raised by her father.”
Violet flushed. She wished her cousin would simply keep silent. These women were English aristocrats. In their eyes, behaving like a boy was probably quite shocking.
“At least your Alex is always well behaved,” Elizabeth said of the duke’s son and heir.
Lily laughed, a sound that rang like fine crystal. “Not always, I promise you.” She smiled kindly at Violet. “Still, they are worth every moment of trouble. You will see once you have a child of your own.”
Violet made no reply. If she had a child it would not be Rule’s, but Jeffrey’s.
“Once you are settled,” Elizabeth said, “we shall have a ball to properly announce your marriage. Lily and I will make all the arrangements.”
Violet’s heart sank. She wished Rule had told them the truth. “I appreciate that, truly I do, but I think you should know that Rule and I may not be—”
“It’s getting late,” her soon-to-be-former husband interrupted before she could tell them that in thirty days, the two of them would be dissolving the marriage. “We had better be going. You’ll have plenty of time to talk once we get to the ball.”
As the women collected their reticules, straightened their voluminous skirts, collected their wraps and walked beside their husbands toward the door, Rule leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“You promised to give me thirty days. During that time, I expect you to behave as my wife. If things don’t work out, we can inform my family then.”
It wasn’t an unfair request. Besides, whatever consequences he and his family might suffer wouldn’t matter, since she would be on her way home to Boston.
“Are we agreed?” he pressed.
“As you wish.”
Rule seemed relieved. They went out to the carriages, which were parked in a row out front. His brothers and their wives would be following in their own vehicles. Caroline traveled with Lily and Royal, excited to be riding in the magnificent, gilded, four-horse ducal coach.
Rule assisted Violet into his elegant black carriage and followed her inside. Instead of taking a seat across from her, he settled himself beside her, his wide shoulders brushing against her, sending a little curl of heat into the pit of her stomach.
“You look beautiful, Violet. Your father would be very happy tonight.”
Guilt trickled through her. Griff had wanted her to marry Rule. It meant a great deal to him to believe he had secured her future. But her happiness was the thing he wanted most.
She wasn’t about to throw that happiness away on Rule Dewar.
Five
The birthday ball, given by the Marquess and Marchioness of Wyhurst, was an extravagant affair unmatched by any of the events Violet had attended in Boston.
The mansion itself was palatial—three stories high, built in a U shape, the exterior faced with gleaming white marble. Torches lined the drive up to the house, which was entirely enclosed by ornate wrought-iron fencing.
Inside, the magnificent entry was the full three stories tall and capped by an amber glass ceiling. Columns and reflecting pools had been painted on the walls, making it look like the entrance to a villa in Rome.
The marquess, an older man with snow-white hair, stood in the receiving line next to his petite, dark-haired wife and beautiful, willowy blonde daughter, Sabrina.
Rule made the introductions. “Good evening, Lord Wyhurst. My ladies. I would like to present my wife, Violet. She is just arrived from Boston.”
The blonde’s gorgeous blue eyes widened. “Your wife?”