Rule's Bride. Kat Martin

God, why had she agreed to Rule’s ridiculous arrangement in the first place?

      But, of course, at the time it had seemed the best solution, the easiest way out of the marriage. No attorneys, no scandal, just a quiet annulment to which Rule had promised to agree.

      She sighed into the quiet of the room, trying not to remember tonight’s kiss, the incredible sensations that had burned through her body. Surely it was merely a physical response. If Jeffrey kissed her that way, she would feel exactly the same.

      A sound reached her from the hallway outside her bedroom. She jerked upright at the squeak of the silver doorknob turning. Surely Rule wouldn’t—

      She relaxed as Caroline slipped into the bedroom and told herself she didn’t feel a flicker of disappointment.

      “We didn’t get to talk after the ball,” Caroline said, plopping down on the edge of the mattress in her nightgown and pink silk wrapper. Low flames curled over the grate in the hearth, banishing the chill and lighting the room with a soft yellow glow. “Wasn’t it simply magnificent?”

      Violet scooted back, propping herself up against the headboard. “I suppose it was.”

      “You suppose? Good heavens, I had a marvelous time. I danced until my slippers were nearly worn out.”

      “You weren’t the one having to pretend to be something you are not.”

      “Like a wife, you mean?”

      “Like Rule’s blissful bride.”

      Caroline wound a lock of long blond hair around the tip of her finger. “I think his family liked you. I don’t suppose that truly matters, but still…”

      “I wanted them to like me. They are very nice people.”

      Caroline eyed her with suspicion. “You aren’t thinking you might stay married?”

      “Of course not.” She examined a fold in the satin counterpane. “Rule had a mistress. Did you hear?”

      Caroline sighed. “I heard the gossip. Everyone was buzzing about it. She was there, you know.”

      “I saw them together. Rule says the affair is over, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t intend to replace her with someone else. Most married men think nothing of keeping a mistress.”

      “You are better off with Jeffrey.”

      “I know.”

      “Did you meet anyone interesting?” Caroline asked.

      “Actually, I did. A potential buyer for the company. A man named Burton Stanfield. Apparently he made an offer but Rule turned it down.”

      “Did you ask him why?”

      “Not yet, but I intend to. Of course, he couldn’t have accepted without my approval even if he had wished.”

      “Maybe he doesn’t want to sell. Maybe he likes running the company.”

      “Once the marriage is annulled, I become sole owner of Griffin and I can do whatever I want. I don’t want to make weapons that could be used in a war to kill my family and friends.”

      “It’s going to come to that, isn’t it? We’re going to have some sort of revolution?”

      “Yes, I feel certain we are. At any rate, Rule has done a good job thus far and I’d like to know his thoughts on Stanfield as a buyer. At the same time, I don’t want to alert him to the fact I intend to sell. I’ll have to tread carefully.”

      Caroline grinned. “You can do it. You are good at getting what you want.”

      It was true, though lately, where Rule was concerned she felt greatly out of her element.

      “I met someone interesting tonight, myself,” Caroline said.

      Violet’s interest sharpened. “Did you? Who was it?”

      “He is a friend of your…of Rule’s. His name is Lucas Barclay.”

      “Good grief, you can’t be serious. People were talking nearly as much about him as they were about Rule. The man is notorious.”

      In the firelight, Violet caught her cousin’s smile. “Luke is a marvelous dancer and unbelievably handsome.” She grinned. “And I’ve never been one to listen to gossip.”

      “Luke? You call him Luke? You had better be careful, cousin. What would your grandmother say if she knew you were spending time with a rogue like Barclay?”

      “It was only a dance, Vi. And speaking of my grandmother…I have put off my visit for as long as I dare. Grandmother will begin to worry. I am going to see her tomorrow. She’ll want to meet you. Will you go with me?”

      “Of course I will.”

      “She’s expecting me to stay for at least the next few weeks.”

      Violet nodded. “I know you have obligations. But I shall miss you terribly.”

      “It won’t be all that bad. Grandmother lives here in London. We’ll be able to see each other often.”

      But Violet would be alone in the house with Rule. She didn’t trust him.

      More importantly, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself.

       Seven

      After her late evening at the ball and a restless night of battling her worries and guilt, Violet slept later than she intended.

      By the time Mary had helped her into a lace-trimmed russet silk day dress and pulled her hair back into a simple chignon, she was fidgeting to get on with the day. When she reached the top of the staircase, she spotted Caroline pacing nervously in the foyer. As Violet reached the bottom of the stairs, her cousin hurried toward her.

      “You didn’t forget, did you? My grandmother is expecting us this afternoon for tea. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

      Inwardly, Violet groaned. She hadn’t forgotten. Today she was accompanying Caroline to her grandmother’s, staying for a brief visit, then leaving her cousin and the older woman to their long-awaited reunion.

      “I didn’t mean to sleep so long, but I am ready now. We can leave whenever you wish. Will you be staying or coming back here?”

      “I want to be certain everything is set. If it is, I’ll stay. Tomorrow, I’ll send for my things.”

      Violet glanced around the entry. The house seemed overly quiet, no sounds coming from the drawing room or the study down the hall. Rule wasn’t there, she was sure, for she always seemed able to sense his presence.

      “Where is his lordship this morning?” she asked Hatfield, his spindly old butler.

      “Lord Rule has gone to his office at Griffin. That is where he usually spends most of his day.”

      “I see.” And since she hadn’t gotten up early enough to speak to him before he left, she would go directly from Mrs. Lockhart’s to the factory.

      “Do you wish to leave him a message?”

      “Thank you, no. I’ll speak to him later.” She turned to Caroline. “Let me fetch my shawl and we can be on our way.”

      Dashing back upstairs, she returned with a warm cashmere wrapper. April in England was often still cold and today was no exception. Hatfield took the shawl from her hand and draped the soft fabric around her shoulders.

      Caroline had already donned her cape. A few minutes later, they were on their way to the corner to hire themselves a hansom cab for the ride to Belgravia, where Caroline’s grandmother lived.

      The early-spring wind was brisk and Violet was glad she was wearing her shawl. Around them, the streets were a noisy throng of pedestrians, merchant vehicles and carriages. A horse-drawn omnibus