The Rake Who Loves Me Page 3

  Like Lord Merrifield had been with her... She would have preferred if he had ignored her. It would have made the visit far more enjoyable. He had acted worse than normal toward her. His words had stung, and she wished they hadn’t. He had a way of unnerving her with a glance, and when he spoke, it was like a blade of ice through her heart. “So what do you think will be different about a ball?” she asked Iris.

  “Well, for one, we can dance. That is far more intimate than crowding ourselves around a tea tray and biscuits. We can have a private conversation.”

  They walked farther into the shop. One of the seamstresses came out to greet them. “Welcome,” she said. “Madame Trudeau is busy with another lady. Please have a seat and she’ll be with you in a few short moments.”

  “Thank you,” Violet told her. She didn’t feel like sitting, but Iris settled into one of the wooden chairs along the wall. “There isn’t enough time during a dance to have any actual conversation. What do you hope to learn about him during a quadrille?”

  “Actually,” Iris began. “I hope to have him lead me in a waltz, but to answer your question... I hope that it will be the start of something far more sensual and will lead into a seduction.”

  Violet gasped. “Have you somehow addled your brain? What if it goes too far, and he ruins you?”

  She shrugged. “Then the marriage will happen that much sooner.”

  “This is not a game,” she warned her. “If you do this and then he doesn’t offer for you...”

  “He will,” she said. “He’s an honorable man. I know you think little of him, but two of his friends have already fallen. They caused the worst kind of scandals too, and still they acted like proper gentleman.”

  Violet wanted to shake some sense into her sister. Her stomach hurt at the thought of what Iris had planned. She might feel sorry for Lord Hampstead, but he would probably enjoy Iris’s efforts at seduction. Perhaps she should stay close to Iris whenever possible. She might be able to prevent her from making a terrible mistake. “Not every person will make the same decision as someone close to them. Please reconsider this. If Lord Hampstead wants to court you, it should be his choice. No one should force someone to do something they are against.”

  “I won’t have him do anything he doesn’t wish to.” She waived her hand dismissively. “He’s rumored to be a rogue. Seduction is part of his normal repertoire. Which means he’ll willingly play his part.”

  Violet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Iris would do what she wanted no matter how imprudent her scheme was or that it would inevitably be ruinous. The Christmastide ball would not be the festive celebration that Iris hoped it would be. Violet would become her shadow and ensure that she could not actually seduce the earl. She had to protect her sister, even if it was from her own foolish ambitions. “Promise me you will at least think about this,” Violet encouraged her. “If you go too far and it doesn’t go as you wish...” She sighed. “Think about what happened to Francesca. The duke tossed her aside at first. You don’t want to find yourself in a delicate condition and no husband.”

  Francesca had one night with the duke and found herself with child. That was a risk no lady of their station should take. They would be shunned by polite society. Violet didn’t understand how a woman could give into desire, knowing the risk they took by doing so.

  “You do not need to worry so much,” Iris said in a dismissive tone. “I’ll be careful. Promise..”

  Somehow, Violet didn’t think she could take that promise on faith. Iris was determined, and she would end up ruined at the end of her scheme. Violet would bet her entire dowry on that fact, and she feared it would ruin her, too. Because she wouldn’t be able to stand against the wall and allow her sister to be hurt if she could prevent it.

  Zachariah sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He hated going over the accounts, but it had to be done. If only the pain that had settled between his eyes would somehow disappear, he would complete the task… He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back. It didn’t help.

  He sighed, then took a deep, fortifying breath.

  It would take longer with his head aching, but he could finish the task. Then he would prepare for his evening. He suspected that was the true source of the stabbing pain throbbing unmercifully in his head. Goodland and Hampstead had arranged for an outing. Not an outing that would end in revelry and a jolly good time. No, they had, along with the help of the Duke of Lindsey and his wife, arranged for them all to attend a musicale. Something that would only add to his misery. If he couldn’t shake the pain already spreading in his head, he would likely end the evening begging someone to end him.

  Yes, he was being overly dramatic, but he didn’t care, and couldn’t find any reason to try. Hampstead and Goodland would attend the musicale. They would have to ensure that Zachariah did his part and followed through on his end of their bargain. He gritted his teeth. Becoming friendly with Lady Violet made his stomach roil. She was as lovely as she was contrary. If she didn’t speak, he might be able to pretend to be pleasant; however, it was unlikely she would do him that favor.

  The shuffle of feet across the floor caught his attention. Zachariah opened his eyes and met his mother’s gaze. He cursed under his breath. This was not a good sign. Not. At. All. “Hello, Mother,” he greeted her. “I didn’t realize you intended to come to town for Christmastide.”

  He would much rather she had stayed in the dower house. With her safely tucked away there, he could pretend she didn’t exist. They had never been close, and he didn’t wish to change that aspect of their relationship. He didn’t hate her. It was more like a sense of apathy than anything. Zachariah couldn’t muster any feelings at all toward his mother.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced away from him. Her dark hair was pinned back at her nape. Gray had streaked through the sides, but even that noticeable sign of age was slim. She was an elegant woman, his mother. He could see why his father had found her appealing. She aged quite gracefully.

  His mother wiped her hands against her dark blue skirt and then walked toward him. She didn’t speak until she reached his desk. “I think it is time we talked.”

  Zachariah lifted his brow. “Regarding?”

  “Your lack of interest in marriage,” she said. Her tone was firm. That was a bit of a surprise.

  “How is this a concern of yours?” The last thing he needed was his mother barraging him about his bachelor status. He had no intention of marrying and the ton was well aware of that fact. Just because his mother wanted him to marry didn’t mean he would bow down to her will.

  “I promised your father I would see you settled.” She jutted her chin out. “He was concerned about his line.”

  Zachariah snorted. “I’m sure he was, but that’s no concern of mine. It can go to a distant cousin. I don’t need to marry for the title to carry on.” He didn’t want a cold marriage of convenience just for the sake of having a child. Zachariah doubted he would make a good father. It had surprised him that the Duke of Lindsey had taken to it so well. Of all his friends, Lindsey had seemed the least fatherly type. Zachariah didn’t want to take any chances he would as well. Children were not in his future. It was for the best.

  “That’s not the same and you know it,” his mother chastised him. “I’m not telling you to marry the first lady that you take a fancy to. But…”

  “But nothing, mother,” he said dismissively. “If I haven’t found a woman, I would like to make my wife yet I doubt I will.”

  “That’s why I’m here.” She sat in the chair in front of his desk. “I’m going to help you actually see what is in front of you.”

  She would not let this go. What the hell was he supposed to do now? How could he discourage her from this ridiculous notion she had taken into her head? He had far better things to do with his time. His head throbbed uncontrollably. He clenched his jaw. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I don’t need your help. I never did.”

  She flinched
as if he’d slapped her. “That is debatable. I know I’ve been an indifferent mother, but I’m going to do what I believe is best. You do need an heir, and I’ll help you find the right woman.”

  He waved his hand at her and said, “Go away, mother. I have to finish going over the accounts and then I have plans for the evening.”

  “Doing what?”

  Bloody hell… “That isn’t any of your concern.”

  “Is it a social event?” Her tone was unwavering as she spoke.

  He would have to tell her, or she’d never leave. “It is,” he acquiesced. “I’ve been invited to a musicale.”

  “And you’re going?” she stated in a hopeful tone. “That’s excellent. I shall go with you.” With those words, she exited the room, leaving him stunned.

  There would be no discouraging her from going. He would have to take her, and if she noticed him paying any extra attention to Lady Violet, then she’d take it as some sort of sign. What was he going to do now?

  He wished he had a reason to bow out, but Goodland and Hampstead would never allow it. Zachariah had no choice. He would have to take his mother to the musicale and pray it didn’t come back to haunt him.

  Four

  Violet loved musicales. When done right, the music was enlivening and inspirational. She could sit for hours and listen to it if given the choice. Unfortunately, musicians tired and couldn’t indulge her whims even if Violet was inclined to be a hard task maker. Besides, it made the days she could listen to music much more gratifying because of those fleeting moments of pleasure. There was little she truly enjoyed anymore, and she intended to ensure this evening went well. She would avoid any unpleasantness or equally disagreeable people…like the Marquess of Merrifield.

  Violet tilted her lips upward into a winsome smile. If only she felt happy enough to don a genuine one. She sighed. As much as she was determined to make the evening go well, she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t pinpoint what. She smoothed down her blue silk skirt and walked into the room where the musicale was being held. She glanced down at her invitation and frowned. The organizer had assigned seats. She followed down the rows until she found the correct one and then went to her seat.

  She glanced around nervously. Iris hated musicales and refused to attend with her. She should have stayed home instead of coming to it alone, but she didn’t think it would be too bad. Francesca was attending with the duke, and if need be, she could act as her chaperone. There wasn’t much socializing done during the performance and she believed it would be all right. Perhaps that was the dread she couldn’t shake. She knew she shouldn’t be there alone, and she’d gone, anyway. Violet never shirked the rules…

  More people moved into the room and took their seats. Francesca was sitting several rows ahead of her with her husband. She waved before she took her seat. They could talk after during the refreshments. A movement to her left caught her attention, and Violet glanced up to meet Lord Merrifield’s startling blue eyes. His gaze held no surprise at seeing her, and that gave her pause. She shook the thought away, though. There was no reason for him to know she’d attend the musicale.

  “Lady Violet,” he greeted her.

  “Who is that you’re speaking to?” a woman asked from behind him. She peeked around him and smiled. “Aren’t you a lovely gal,” she said, then grinned. “I’m the Dowager Marchioness of Merrifield. By chance are you attached?”

  “Attached?” She barely held back a groan. What the blazes was that supposed to mean? Violet did not want to become acquainted with Lord Merrifield’s mother. She might be a perfectly pleasant woman, but the fact she had such strong family ties to the one man who irritated her more than anyone else didn’t make warm feelings spring inside of her.

  “Ignore my mother,” Lord Merrifield said in a polite tone that set her on edge. He was never nice to her. Not without some motivation behind it. What was he up to? “She’s got it inside her head it is time for me to marry. If she knew you at all, she would realize I’m the last man you’d deign to attach yourself to.” He delivered that news in such a droll tone she didn’t know what to make of it. Was he laughing at her? Lord Merrifield and his mother took their seats. Lord Merrifield next to Violet and his mother on the other side of him.

  “He’s quite right,” she told the marchioness. “We don’t get on at all.” Violet wrinkled her nose. “It’s unfortunate we’re sitting beside each other for this. Perhaps someone would trade seats with me.” The more she thought about it, that idea seemed like the best feasible option. It would save her evening and put some distance between Lord Merrifield and his mother. Violet didn’t like the gleam the other woman had in her eyes when she looked at her. Was Lord Merrifield right? Did his mother believe she was a good option for him to marry? That was a ridiculous notion…they’d be miserable together.

  “There is no need to move, dear,” the marchioness told her. “I know a losing battle when I’m in one. My son is a confirmed bachelor. That doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy a pleasant evening.” She flipped open a fan and waved it over her face. “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?”

  Violet was content. It was winter, and it rarely got too warm inside a building when the bitter cold found a way of seeping inside. She didn’t carry a fan with her during the winter months, but she understood some women did. “I’m all right,” she said, and frowned. Violet glanced around her. The musicians had started to walk to their instruments. It was too late to move her seat. She would just have to stay in place. “Perhaps it won’t be so warm in a moment.” What else could she say? A part of her thought the marchioness was being overly dramatic, but perhaps she was warm. Violet couldn’t tell either way.

  “Is the musicale about to start?” The marchioness wiggled in her seat as she stared at the stage area. “What do you think they’ll play?”

  “I don’t know, Mother,” Lord Merrifield said in a dry tone. “I’d suggest you cease all talking and listen. It is usually the best way to tell these things.”

  Violet barely held back a laugh. She found herself agreeing with the marquess. His mother was fast becoming annoying. She could never say that to the marchioness though. It would be impolite and she tried to never be mean.

  “There is no need to be rude,” she chastised her son.

  He turned toward his mother but didn’t say a word. Lord Merrifield just stared until his mother glanced away from him. Violet felt sorry for the other woman. She knew how cold that stare could be. She’d been the recipient more times than she could count.

  The musicians began to play, and she did her best to ignore the people beside her and listen, but it was proving difficult. The marquess’s closeness was doing odd things to her. She was becoming a bit warm too and thought she’d been too harsh in her earlier thoughts about the marchioness. Violet would also need to rethink her stance on carrying a fan in the winter…

  Zachariah frowned. This was not going well at all. It might have been better if his mother stayed home, but he couldn’t see how. Lady Violet was doing her best to pretend he didn’t exist. How was he supposed to become on more friendly terms with her if she wouldn’t talk to him? Of course, he did not know what to say to her at all. He felt so out of place and uncertain that he didn’t like it. Not for the first time since that wretched card game he cursed Hampstead’s existence.

  He hated musicales too…

  All right he didn’t hate them. Some music was all right, but he didn’t need a whole evening devoted to listening to it. There were more important and also entertaining things he could do with his time. None of which involved listening to Beethoven or Bach. Though this current piece being played wasn’t by either.

  It was almost delicate sounding, soothing the anger inside of him. There was also a sadness to it. As if he was standing alone in the rain with no sunshine in his future. Music never spoke to him like this. “It’s beautiful,” he said before he realized he’d voiced his thoughts aloud. r />
  “I’ve always appreciated Chopin the most,” Lady Violet told him. “The feelings he brings out in me…” She sighed. “It’s more than words can ever say.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. He may have shrugged off music as nonsense without giving it a chance. His heart ached from the sounds filling his ears. What else had he been denying himself because he believed he knew better?

  He turned his head toward Lady Violet and studied her profile. She had her hand on her chest and a lonely tear trailed down her cheek. He reached over and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. She turned and met his gaze, and his heart ached for another reason. The yearning in her eyes touched his soul. He held a breath and tried to suppress the need to give her everything she desired. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “Lord Merrifield?” her tone was barely audible. He saw her lips moving and made out his name, but still he couldn’t say anything. Slowly, he released the breath inside of him. The ache didn’t lessen inside his chest.

  “Don’t cry, love,” he said in a hoarse tone. “I don’t like it.” He didn’t know why it mattered, but it did. This woman meant nothing to him. She was a task, nothing more; however, in this moment he would move mountains to ease her pain. He blamed the music. Zachariah never felt so deeply in his entire life.

  “I’ll cry if I want to,” she said in a stubborn tone.

  He couldn’t help it. A chuckle slipped out before he could muffle it. She could be so damned contrary, and hell if he didn’t respect her for knowing her own mind. There were a lot of insipid females in the ton who only did or thought what they believed others told them to. Lady Violet was a force of nature, and nothing seemed to hold her back. She had always stood toe to toe with him and didn’t allow him to dictate to her. “Suit yourself,” he told her, then shrugged. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of a lady’s need to use tears to control those around her.”