Haunting Violet
Page 18

I wasn’t the only one with secrets. I shifted to ease the pressure on my knees and tripped on the ribbon of my dressing gown. I tumbled with a muffled “oof.”
“Did you hear that?” Caroline asked fearfully.
I froze, squeezing my eyes shut as if that would help me be invisible. I pried one eyelid open. From this angle I could see a third person watching them from the privacy of a rose arbor. I only chanced to see him because from this angle, the moonlight gleamed on his silver cravat pin. He scanned the gardens, his face hidden in the shadow cast by his hat.
“Probably nothing,” Caroline’s mysterious beau murmured. “All the same, you should get back.”
They parted without another word, Caroline sneaking away across the lawn, the man easing back inside. After a few moments, I straightened, rubbing my elbow, which was now throbbing as much as my knee.
“Psst.”
I swatted away what I assumed was a fly. But the noise came again, from below me in the shadow-thick gardens. The white roses seemed to glow in the faint moonlight.
“Psst!
I leaned over the railing. “What?”
It was hardly what Juliet might have said to Romeo, or indeed what any well-bred girl might say. I probably ought to have giggled enticingly or shrieked and dove under my blankets.
Instead, I leaned farther and nearly toppled right out.
Colin emerged from behind a decorative hedge shaped like a mermaid. The gardens were as crowded as Covent Garden on market day. He looked as handsome as any young lord, even with the coarse wool of his coat and the calluses that I knew ridged his palms.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” For some reason, saying it made me blush. He grinned.
“Shouldn’t you?”
I almost told him why I couldn’t sleep. I almost told him about the water in my room and about the drowned girl and the way she looked at me: hopefully, pleadingly, demandingly.
But I didn’t.
“Someone will see us,” I said instead. I hated how proper and prim I sounded.
I could have sworn he was disappointed. Since that hardly made sense, I ignored it. He bowed once, mockingly. I turned and sailed back inside, shutting the door pointedly behind me.
I couldn’t say why he seemed to follow me, invading my empty bedroom and my thoughts.
Or why I found it comforting.
I woke up scowling. I scowled through my cup of tea, I scowled when Marjorie brushed my hair, and I even scowled at the sunlight when it fell prettily through the windowpanes onto the carpet.
It was early. Too early.
I scowled all the way down the stairs, at each of the Jasper ancestors in the portrait hall, and even at a potted fern that fluttered across my hem as I passed. The fashion for ferns showed not the slightest inclination of fading if Rosefield was any house to judge by. Large green fronds grasped at me like hands as I marched down to breakfast.
I had just enough sense to pause before entering in order to collect myself. A headache pulsed viciously behind my eyes. I pasted on a polite smile before showing myself. Most of the guests were gathered at the long table. All of the men rose briefly. Frederic grinned. Since I didn’t hear Elizabeth’s customary stifled sigh, she must still be asleep, like any sensible person. One of the guests was a tall man, thin and with a predatory look about him. The effect was underscored by the way he stared, his black eyes peeling back the layers we all wore like shawls in polite society.
Something else about him made me uncomfortable: the silver cravat pin he wore. It was the same man who’d been hiding in the gardens last night, watching Caroline stealing kisses.
But why?
“There you are, darling.” Mother’s voice was decidedly crisp. She eyed me critically over her cup. Her smile was pointed. “Why don’t you have a seat next to your Mr. Trethewey?”
I instantly forgot about the man with the cravat pin and instead blushed violently. One of the ladies cleared her throat sharply.
“Mother,” I whispered. She was being too bold. I could see the censure in Lord Jasper’s sister’s expression and the gleam in Tabitha’s eyes as she sat on Xavier’s other side, smiling prettily at him. I stifled a groan. I had no wish to play the games Mother or Tabitha expected me to play. The headache jabbed at me, mercilessly.
“It would be a pleasure,” Xavier murmured. I could only be grateful his parents were still abed.
“Tell Jasper I miss him.”
I blinked, looking at the guests. No one else seemed to have heard the breathy voice, whispering.
“The locket is under the settee. Vera dropped it there last week.”
I definitely heard that. I lifted a hand to my head, which throbbed mercilessly.
“Can you hear me?”
“And me?”
“Please, answer me!”
There were more voices, all layered on top of one another like a windstorm. I think I might have whimpered. I really didn’t want this to be happening. Seeing spirits was bad enough; hearing them was no better. I clapped my hands over my ears. I had to get out of there.
“Violet,” Mother snapped.
Her voice, at least, was real, and it was sharp enough to cut through the haze of panic. Lord Jasper was staring at me quite intently. I smiled weakly and turned to the sideboard. I just needed to be alone, needed quiet. I was tired, that was all. The chattering and the clinking of silver cutlery frayed at my nerves.
I reached for a plate, waving away the help of a footman. I’d never understood that. Surely I was capable of carrying my own plate, even though I felt tired and awful. I made my way back to the table with my eggs and toast, trying to breathe through the anxiety and the ache in my temples. I wasn’t paying attention to Tabitha.