Page 83 of To Have and to Hoax
“Would you mind ceasing to speak for more than three seconds?” James asked pleasantly.
Violet opened her mouth and then deliberately shut it again and settled back into her seat. As soon as she ceded the space between them, James leaned forward, somehow taking up more room than it seemed logical that he should.
“In response to your earlier question,” he said in a conversational tone, “no, I have not come to some sort of glorious, earth-shattering conclusion in the past couple of hours. I’ve merely followed you to explain to you what I had already worked out.”
Violet arched a brow. “James, you lied to me this morning.”
“Afternoon, technically.”
“The point remains.”
“I know,” he said quietly, and all hint of jesting was immediately absent from his voice. “I lied to you because I was afraid that you would still think I was having my actions dictated by my father. Violet, I had already realized that I should have trusted you all along—I didn’t want my discussions with him, and with Jeremy, to complicate things.”
“You should have trusted me to understand that,” she said, her voice equally quiet. “I was mistaken four years ago when I did not come to you immediately with what I’d learned of our parents’ scheming—not,” she added severely, “as mistaken as you were in not believing me when I tried to explain the situation to you—”
“I know that,” he said quickly. “And I’m sorry.”
“But I understand the instinct nonetheless.” She sighed. “I need to know you’re not going to let your father come between us ever again. I need to know I’m not going to receive notes about your nearly killing yourself on the back of a horse, just to spite your father. I need you to think of me, ofus, before anything else.”
“I was an ass today,” he said, and then his mouth quirked up at the sides. “Not just today, if we’re really being honest with each other, I suppose.”
“Indeed,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Violet.” All at once, his voice was deadly serious once again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t trust you to . . . to . . .” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated; the result was curls that were even more disheveled than they’d been a moment before. “I didn’t trust you to trust me that I trusted you.”
Violet blinked. “I’m sorry?”
James appeared to be running his words back through his mind, then nodded once, apparently satisfied. “I believe I had the right of it, actually.”
Violet couldn’t help smirking. “It sounded peculiarly appropriate.”
“As convoluted as we deserve?” He grinned at her, and the sight was devastating.
“We did rather make our own beds, didn’t we?” She couldn’t stop herself from smiling back this time.
“Do you know,” he asked conversationally, “that I’m fairly certain that at some point in the past fortnight I uttered the sentence ‘She doesn’t know I know she knows I know’?”
“I would mock you,” Violet said gravely, “but I’m fairly certain I did the same.” She paused, considering. “Changing the pronouns about, of course.”
“Of course.”
They sat there for a moment, grinning idiotically at each other, and it was all Violet could do to refrain from reaching out and smoothing those tousled curls. She felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, hand in hand with James, ready to jump—but he’d not yet shown her the wings they’d need to fly. She wanted to jump so desperately—and yet.
And yet.
So, schooling her voice into a calmness she didn’t feel, rearranging her face into an expression of polite interest, she said, “I’m sorry—you were saying?”
His own grin faded as hers did, but if a laughing James was dangerous, so, too, was the model that replaced him—gazing at her steadily, unblinkingly, his eyes full of some emotion that she recognized and yet was still afraid to believe.
“I paid my father a visit this afternoon, after you left,” he said steadily. Violet tried her hardest to give nothing away, to keep her face an impassive mask. She wasn’t entirely certain she was successful. “I told him I was giving Audley House back to him.”
Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn’t this.
“What?”she shrieked, nearly toppling off the carriage seat in her surprise. James reached out a hand to steady her, and without even realizing what she was doing, Violet laced her fingers through his.
James’s brow creased in concern. “I—I didn’t think you’d mind,” he said, sounding uncertain. “I’ll buy you another house in the country if you wish. Our income will be reduced without the profits from the stables, but we’ll still be very comfortable, and I’m certain we can find something you’ll like just as much.”
Violet reached out and placed her palm over his mouth, ceasing the flow of words. Silenced, he stared at her, then slowly arched an eyebrow in inquiry.
