The carriage door opened, and a gentleman burst from it. Violet furrowed her brow, certain that she had seen the man somewhere before. It took her a moment to recall his name. “Lord Leaflet,” she said.
“Your Grace!” he exclaimed. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Violet replied, climbing to her feet with his aid. “No, I just—I think I was pushed.”
“Pushed?” Lord Leaflet asked, his gray eyes searching the path. “Did you catch a glimpse of your assailant?”
“No,” Violet said. “I was admittedly preoccupied with falling.”
“Apologies. Of course.”
Heat rose to Violet’s face. “No, it is I who should apologize. I did not mean to sound so unkind to you. I fear I am shaken. I was in a carriage accident yesterday, and now…”
Lord Leaflet’s face seemed to grow sterner. “Allow me to escort you home, Your Grace.”
“Is that appropriate?” Violet asked.
“My footman is with me. He can act as our chaperone. What happened yesterday?”
“My carriage was damaged and nearly tipped over with me inside it.”
He offered his arm, which Violet accepted. There was a certain steadiness to the man, and her mind still whirled with what might have happened. Violet felt as if she might vomit and instead tried to fix her attention on the carriage. Lord Leaflet helped her into her seat. After a quick word with the driver, he seated himself beside his footman.
Violet buried her face between her hands and took deep breaths, trying to steady her breathing. It was not the most dignified way to behave, but she needed…something. Everything inside of her was tight and anxious. Maybe Lady Priscilla had been correct, and Violet’s nerves were far more fragile than she had thought them to be.
The carriage jolted into movement, and Violet slowly raised her head. Lord Leaflet looked sympathetically at her. “Your Grace, I assume you know this already, but you must be careful of your husband. He killed his first wife.”
Violet drew in a sharp breath of air. The accusation sliced through her as sharply as any blade. She straightened her back. “My lord, you are mistaken. His Grace did not kill anyone, much less the late duchess. He loved her dearly.”
Lord Leaflet furrowed his brow. “You say that, but someone appears to be trying to kill you, Your Grace.”
Violet stared at him, a sort of numbness sweeping over her. She did not doubt Leo, but hearing Lord Leaflet so bluntly raise that point suddenly made the situation seem much more dire.
“Someone pushed you into the path of the carriage today,” Lord Leaflet said, “and yesterday, someone damaged your carriage. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“So, if His Grace is not behind those attempts, who is?” Lord Leaflet asked. “I do not wish to offend you, Your Grace, but I hope you understand why I am concerned. All the ton are concerned about you.”
“I know it was not Leo,” Violet said firmly. “I cannot say who might be behind the attempts, but I have the utmost faith in him.”
Lord Leaflet frowned and crossed his arms. “I hope you are right, Your Grace. However, I do think—if it is not too bold of me to say—that you ought to speak to His Grace about your safety. If these attempts on your life are not his doing…”
She might be in danger anywhere. She might be unable to trust anyone.
“I do not know anyone who would wish to do me harm, my lord,” Violet said honestly. “I know few people in London, and most of my acquaintances are the ton.”
Lord Leaflet looked pityingly at her. Violet knew what he must be thinking. The man clearly assumed that Leo was to blame, and he suspected that Violet was simply too trusting to realize the truth of her situation.
“Do you know if there is anyone who might wish vengeance on my husband?” Violet asked.
The lord shook his head. “I can think of no one, except—perhaps—one of the late duchess’s kin. However, I have not seen them in London this winter. Otherwise, I can think of no one, especially not someone who would punish you to hurt His Grace.”
Violet bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. This situation made so little sense to her. She felt as if she was missing something terribly obvious, but she could not put a name to what that might be. Violet feared she might realize the truth too late.
“Thank you for agreeing to escort me home,” Violet said, hoping to turn the conversation to safer ground.
Lord Leaflet had given her much to think about, but it was apparent that he believed Leo was trying to kill her. He would not be persuaded by her entreaties, any more than she by his.
