Page 57 of Untaming Lady Violet
When the musicians shifted from the liveliness of the reel to the haunting lilt of a waltz, Tristan shoved off from his stance against the doorjamb, intent on exiting the parlor. He must make his escape before Violet’s eyes found his. Before she questioned his failure to pull her into his arms for the dance. He had, after all, promised her he would.
Instead of fleeing, however, he found himself inexplicably looking for her amongst the swirl of pretty velvet and silk gowns.
His sharp gaze located her near the entrance to the terrace, Lawrence Buchanan bent over her hand. The young man pled his case for the honor of sweeping her into the dance. Violet only laughed, shaking her head in denial while attempting to separate herself from the other couples selecting their partners for the waltz.
A crushing weight suffocated Tristan. An overwhelming need to prove Richeforte wrong drove his next actions. Averting his eyes, he ignored the possessiveness stabbing his insides. A possessiveness that demanded he snatch Violet away from the crowd so he would not have to share her.
Nicholas’s low chuckle reeked of understanding pity. “It appears your fall shall be harder and far beyond my own, Longleigh. You should prepare yourself for the consequences of the aftermath.”
“Your advice is unnecessary. There will be no consequences to face. Why should I shackle myself to one woman when there are so many who desire my company? I can think of no reason to throw myself into that prison. Bachelor life is surprisingly carefree.”
The duke shook his head at the display of stubbornness, but Tristan vowed it would not dissuade him. Abruptly sketching a bow to the duke, he turned his back on the gaiety.
“If you will excuse me, I’ve developed a sudden thirst, and it seems only whiskey will suffice.”
As he made his way down the hall, his lips twisted at the idea Violet would make an excellent wife.
My wild Violet possesses the capability of driving a man quite mad. How is it possible to defend one’s heart against all that hidden fierceness coated in sugar candy sweetness?
And as for his own inner craving to rescue the damsel in distress?
It was a defect in his character that must be cured. Quickly, before something inevitable happened to them both.
* * *
Violet strainedher neck looking over Lawrence’s shoulder.
Where is Tristan? Just a moment ago, he stood in the doorway with the Duke of Richeforte, and now he’s vanished.
“I say, Lady Violet, are my skills lacking so completely?”
“What?” Violet murmured, preoccupied by the sight of Richeforte uncrossing his arms and sauntering in the direction of his wife.
“You seem distracted,” Lawrence explained. “To the point I fear my waltzing abilities must be deficient.”
Violet dragged her gaze back to the young man. “Of course, they are not.”
“But youaredistracted.” The young man’s chiseled features were enhanced by a breaking smile. “I swear I will not be crushed to learn you are searching for Longleigh.”
“Don’t be silly, Mister Buchanan. Why ever would you think I have the slightest interest in your cousin’s whereabouts?”
“Don’t you?” Lawrence tilted his head. “Have an interest, that is?”
“No, I don’t,” Violet stammered as the waltz slowed, drawing to an end.
Her cheeks flushed pink with the lie. She hadtoomuch interest in Longleigh. Damn her curiosity, but she wondered if his disappearance was tied with what she’d witnessed earlier in the evening.
Violet had spied Tristan cozied up with Lady Fiona Blackerby in an alcove earlier. He had been smiling, those full, sensual lips twisted in the attractively sardonic manner he was infamous for. The one that playfully teased with darkness and hints of wickedness until a girl wasn’t sure if she straddled the edge of being kissed into oblivion or carefully strangled and caressed by the viscount’s large, capable hands.
Either option was intriguing
“Blast it all. Here comes Lord Gadley,” Lawrence huffed in exasperation as the waltz ended on a final flourish. Sketching a bow, he then straightened, intentionally towering over Violet. “If I miss my guess, I suspect you’ve no wish to have the man claim your next dance.”
She shivered. “You would be correct, Mister Buchanan.”
“Then there is only one thing for it. Follow me, staying as close as you can. I believe I can at least get you to the terrace unseen. You may then do whatever mysterious thing it is that ladies do when they disappear during balls. It’s the perfect solution for avoiding Gadley.”
Lawrence was already moving while he spoke, weaving through the crowd with Violet’s hand clasped in his. She fell into step behind him, grateful for his assistance, although he marched at a speed much faster than her legs could match.
