Page 12 of Untaming Lady Violet
Surely, Celia was only joking about the kissing ones. Those could get out of hand. Reputations could be put at risk. Lives ruined.
Which reminded Violet of the rather daring cut of her new gown. Tugging at the bodice, she frowned. Even in the darkened hallway, the uppermost swells of her exposed bosom proved distracting. Her mother’s motives in allowing this particular dress begged questioning but Violet suspected its intent was enticing William Gadley into offering for her hand.
“It’s more likely I’ll be mistaken for a Covenant Garden doxie,” Violet muttered.
She thought wearing such a garment was best undertaken without her parents’ hovering scrutiny and William’s cold perusal to make her even more nervous. But she was wrong. This exercise in confidence was vaguely uncomfortable.
Too much of her flesh was showing. Too much of herself that would draw attention. She jerked at the bodice again.
It wasn’t too late to change her gown although Bridgette, her maid, would certainly protest. She’d declared Violet as lovely as any woman attending this year’s May Day gathering. All the men would clamor for her attention, the maid predicted with a while placing the final touches on her mistress’s coiffure.
Violet’s lungs squeezed tight with the sudden burst of panic tumbling over her. She whirled about, blindly intent on returning to the safety of her room’s four walls.
The collision knocked her backward. Landing on her rear end, the thick carpet cushioned her fall.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Violet stared up at the unmovable block of stone she’d crashed into.
Tristan extended a hand.
“I’m beginning to think you have ulterior motives, Lady Violet.”
In the dim light of the corridor, the viscount appeared awfully tall. Like a giant in a fairy tale. An incredibly handsome giant with twinkling dark eyes.
“What?” she replied stupidly.
“It’s not the first time I’ve assisted you. While the role of hero is unfamiliar, it is not unpleasant. In fact, I rather think I like it.”
His words slowly registered, and when he bent at the waist with the obvious intent of lifting her up, Violet knocked his hands away with a scowl.
Tristan only shrugged at her refusal of help, watching while she floundered like a turtle flipped on its back.
It wasn’t gracefully done, not with the gown’s full skirts and the very real threat of her breasts springing free of the tight bodice, but somehow, Violet got up from the floor under her own power.
Ignoring Tristan’s appreciative regard of her bosom, she made a show of dusting her hands lightly against the ruched edges of the low neckline, subtly checking that all remained in place. Her scowl never wavered.
“The first occasion was a result of you sulking beneath a tree. Now, you are lurking in dark hallways.” Violet’s voice was weighted by embarrassment and a dash of indignation. “Why were you sneaking behind me anyway?”
“Why did you abruptly change course?”
“I was returning to my room, if you must know,” she bit out with long-suffering patience.
“Hmm,” was all Tristan said.
Under his perusal, something odd welled inside Violet. Anger, yes, but also awareness. Tristan was looking at her in a certain way. A way her mother would most certainly deem inappropriate.
His eyes consumed her in the same manner as when she laid sprawled across his chest under that oak tree.
Arching a brow as she’d seen Celia do on countless occasions, Violet pressed him. “Well? Why are you sneaking about?”
Tristan’s gaze sparkled with sudden bemusement. “Sharpening your claws on me, kitten? I don’t mind at all.”
The interested spark in the coffee-colored depths of his eyes sent a ripple of confused excitement cascading down Violet’s spine. Why did Tristan’s attentiveness seem to grow with her timid insolence?
Her chin tilted. “I don’t know what you mean. And don’t call me that. It’s improper.”
The man had the audacity to grin, teeth flashing white while deliberately ignoring her command. “I’m curious, kitten. Would you care to discover what it truly means to be improper?”
“Do you intend on answering every question with a question? It’s quite tedious.” Violet hoped she didn’t sound as flustered as she felt. The viscount was mixing her all up inside. Scrambling her thoughts until she could only think of him kissing her right there in the darkened hall.
