It sounded like something Violet would enjoy being involved in; if there was something that Leo did regret leaving behind in London, it was the groups of bluestockings which Lady Priscilla had introduced Violet to. Perhaps Violet would enjoy doing something for Oxeburgh, though. Lady Priscilla would surely agree to aid the project.
“Liza is a uniquely compassionate woman,” Captain Everleigh continued, smiling fondly. He looked and sounded like a man in love.
Do I sound like that when I speak of Violet?Leo thought.
More than anything, that was the sort of man who Violet deserved—one who would dote upon her and speak of her with that wistful fondness. He loved her; Leo was comfortable admitting that. Still, he wondered if he showed his affection as much as he should. It was as if acknowledging his love for Violet necessitated learning how to behave like a man in love once more.
“Is it…” Leo trailed off. “Do you ever feel as though you are unworthy of her?”
Captain Everleigh arched an eyebrow. “I suppose I do sometimes, Your Grace. It is difficult not to feel as if I am lacking when I wed such a great woman, though. I would not say feeling that way is necessarily bad, however, as Liza inspires me to be a better man.”
Leo nodded, understanding that feeling well. “It is easier to want to be better than it is to reallybebetter, though.”
“Undoubtedly. However, is that not always true? It is easier to desire than it is to act, especially when it means acknowledging that we, ourselves, may be somehow imperfect.”
Leo nodded.Imperfectdescribed him a little better than he might like. He was learning, though, and for Violet, he would continue to learn to be a better man.
Chapter 25
“So, howareyou enjoying marriage?” Lady Priscilla asked.
It was two days after Violet’s last visit to Liza, who she already missed dearly. If she did not have Lady Priscilla as a friend, Violet felt as though she would have been dreadfully lonely. The two ladies were walking in the park together, their lady’s maids following at a respectable distance.
“I enjoy it,” Violet replied with a small laugh. “I have told you so many times before.”
“Ah. I suppose you have.”
Violet glanced at her friend, noting that Lady Priscilla seemed to hold herself with more tension than she usually did. She looked as though there was something she desperately wanted to say, but she could not quite bring herself to do it.
“Is something the matter?” Violet asked. “You know that you can tell me if something is troubling you.”
“It is a sensitive matter,” Lady Priscilla replied. “We are friends, but I am still not certain it is my place to ask. I feel I must, though, or else I shall be unable to sleep at night.”
Violet swallowed down the lump that rose in her throat. “Please, tell me what vexes you so. You are my dear friend—my only friend in London with Liza gone—and I would never wish for there to be any discord between the two of us.”
“If you insist,” Lady Priscilla said. “I had only wondered…does it bother you that Leo might have killed Lydia?”
Violet blinked, taken aback by how direct the question was. It might not have caught her so unaware if it had come from someone who did not know Leo well. Violet had become accustomed to answering that question over the past few months, after all, but this was different. Lady Priscilla had known Leo for years. “Do you believe that he did?” Violet asked softly.
“Oh, no! No, I believe in his innocence,” Lady Priscilla said quickly. “I do think Leo is innocent. I also know that everyone else believes that he is guilty, however, and I wondered if that bothers you. I did not wish to make you feel as though I doubt him.”
Violet sighed and offered a half-hearted shrug. “I do not believe the rumors, but I suppose they do bother me a little. Leo is a good man, and it is unjust that he is burdened with them.”
“Yes,” Lady Priscilla said, smiling. “That is precisely how I feel. Leo is so fortunate to have found such a wonderful wife.”
Without warning, Lady Priscilla embraced her, and Violet happily reciprocated. “Leo is equally fortunate to have a friend who is as good and kind as you.”
When their embrace ended, Violet and Lady Priscilla resumed their walk-in companionable silence, only parting ways once they had reached Leo’s townhouse.
***
One aspect of London which Violet would sorely miss was all of the shops. She leaned back against the cushion in the ducal carriage, watching through the window as they passed the buildings and bustling London crowds. The seat opposite of her was laden with packages of gowns, hats, cologne, cosmetics, and several items intended for her parents back in Essex. The carriage faltered, and Violet winced as she was nearly across the seat.
The carriage shifted again, and Violet clung to the velvet cushion in an attempt to keep herself steady. The street rushed towards the window, and Violet screamed. Violet fought down the nausea that rose in her throat as the carriage pitched violently from side to side. The distant sounds of shouts and panicked horses filled her ears. Her head struck the door, filling her vision with black spots. At once, the carriage halted.
Violet knew that the ordeal must have lasted only seconds, but it felt like an eternity. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as the door was ripped open. “Your Grace!”
The driver stared at her with wide eyes. He looked so utterly aghast that Violet might have laughed had the situation not been so dire. “What happened?” she asked, her heart hammering against her ribcage so violently that she thought she might be ill.
