Garden of Temptation Page 11

  “That’s enough!” Violet says. She turns to Edward. “Please, go inside. You’ve proven your point.”

  “I won’t leave you with that ruffian!” he says, a footman gripping his arm to pull him away.

  “I will be fine,” she says. “I will deal with my own staff, if you please.”

  Edward pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his brow. “If you insist, my dear,” he says. “We will continue this conversation in the drawing-room, like civilized people.”

  The footman tugs Edward away, and Violet waves the other servants off.

  “I’m fine, please go,” she tells them. They hesitate, but eventually, they do move off, out of hearing range if not out of sight.

  I move my jaw back and forth to make sure it isn’t broken. He clocked me hard, I hate to admit. But I’d have done worse to him if Violet hadn’t stopped me. I catch her eye and realize the favor she did me. If I’d had hit a gentleman, I’d be heading to jail right now. No consequences will come to Edward for hitting me, though.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you don’t believe me, but I know what I saw and—”

  “I do believe you,” she says. At first, I think the punch must have addled my brains.

  “You…you do?” I ask, and she gives a slight nod.

  “Last night, I saw Miss Barton in the hall when I went to get a drink,” she says. “After what you told me, I can only assume what she had been up to.”

  “Then…then why were you here with him, laughing?” I ask. “You…you defended him.”

  She holds her hands out helplessly and shakes her head. “What proof do I have? What proof do you have? There is none. I can’t stop the marriage without just cause, and you never should have accused him without evidence. He’ll make Lady Birchwood fire you, you know.”

  I take a breath and a step away from her as I run my hands through my hair. “Please, Lady Violet, I need this job. You know that.”

  She holds a hand up to stop me. “I will speak with her. She might have to dismiss you to appease the Griswolds, but she can always invite you back after we are gone.”

  “We…?” I ask, fearing the worst.

  She nods. “Edward has proposed, and I have accepted. The wedding will take place at the church on Sunday afternoon.”

  “Violet, no!” I say, forgetting all formalities. “You can’t! He’ll never be faithful to you.”

  “I know,” she says. “I do at least have to thank you for that, for opening my eyes. I was so afraid that Edward was not what he seemed. That I would be going into the marriage blind. But at least now I know the truth. It is a sort of bitter relief, actually. Now that I know the truth of his character, I don’t have to worry about discovering it on my own later.”

  I pace again, somewhere between laughter and fear. “You can’t be serious. Tell your aunt, tell your parents. Surely they will believe you. They won’t force you to marry someone like that.”

  “My aunt will believe me,” she says. “But my parents…” She shakes her head. “Without proof, my parents will be furious with me. They will disown me. Disinherit me.”

  “Is that worse than being married to a man like Edward?”

  She shrugs.

  “Do you really care about money that much?”

  “Of course not,” she says, wounded.

  “Then call it off,” I say. “Don’t marry him.”

  “Then what will become of me?” she asks. “I’ll be a spinster and penniless. What will I do then?”

  I open my mouth, then close it. I know that what I’m about to say is crazy, but I can’t help myself. I at least have to try.

  “You could be a poor gardener’s wife.”

  To my surprise, she doesn’t look shocked at my proposal, only sad. Have I been so opaque with my feelings? Did she expect me to say something like that?

  “How is your mother?” she asks, and I wonder if I’ve missed something in the conversation.

  “Umm… What…what does that have to do with—?”

  “The doctor, was he able to treat her?”

  “Umm… Some, I suppose. He said it will take some time since the injury is old. But she is moving about a bit easier.”

  She nods. “I’m glad to hear it.” After a long pause, she says, “Do you have any idea what the treatments will cost?”

  My face burns red. “I…I hadn’t asked…”

  “I do,” she says. “I’ve already spoken to the doctor. I won’t tell you his fee as it’s not polite.

  “But, Edison, I must be honest with you. I don’t need to be a duchess. I don’t need to be an heiress. I am sure I could live on less. But I cannot live on nothing. No one can. If I married…someone like you and was injured, I don’t want to end up like your mother, in chronic pain for the rest of my life because I cannot afford a doctor.

  “I do not want to marry Edward, but I must be practical. For myself, for my children.”

  Her words hit me like a splash of cold water. I cannot deny the truth in her words. It is selfish of me to ask Violet to marry me when I cannot even take care of my own mother.

  “I understand,” I tell her, and she lets out what I think is a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. She then takes a breath and clears her throat. “Don’t worry about your position. I’ll take care of it and we will put this whole mess behind us, right?”

  “Of course,” I say. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through. I wish there was something I could do.”

  She shakes her head but gives me a sad smile. “Just knowing someone cares about my well-being so much is more than I ever expected.”

  We look at each other for another minute, leaving dangerous words unsaid and hanging between us. She finally nods and turns away, heading back up to the house. She doesn’t look back as she pulls the door closed behind her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Violet

  “You look beautiful, my lady,” one of the maids says as she finishes sewing the hem of my wedding dress. I look in the full-length mirror at the light blue dress with puffed sleeves about the shoulders. It has a thin layer of fine lace over the blue muslin that drags behind for a small train. After the wedding, the train will be taken in so I can wear the dress at social functions once I am…once I am the Duchess of Griswold. My eyes water at the very thought of having to go through with this marriage, but I don’t see as I have another choice.

  Lady Griswold, Esme Griswold, and Aunt Charlotte are all sitting around the room, watching me. As the only family I have present, they are sharing in what should be happy preparations. But no one is happy. Lady Griswold’s face has been pinched tightly ever since Edison accused Edward of the affair with her maid. Emma’s face has softened from disdain to pity. I think I preferred the disdain.

  Poor Aunt Charlotte looks near to tears all the time. I think she feels as though she has failed me. Her job as guardian was to help me maintain my reputation and make a good marriage. She succeeded on the former but not the latter. Marrying Edward might seem a good match on paper, but she knows how unhappy I will be.

  “The blue brings out your eyes,” Aunt Charlotte manages to say. “The white roses of your bouquet are sure to stand out with such a complimentary background.”

  There’s an awkward tension in the room at the mention of flowers—and ostensibly the gardener. I force a smile.

  “Indeed they will, Auntie,” I say. “I will have to hang them to dry as soon as the ceremony is over so I can put them in an arrangement to keep forever.”

  “We won’t be staying long enough to dry them, dear,” Lady Griswold says. “We leave on Monday.”

  The reminder that I will soon be leaving Birchwood is another pain in my chest. This has been my home for three years and I am sad to leave it. I wish I could live here permanently, but I don’t see how that could be possible.

  “I’ll tend to them, my dear,” Aunt Charlotte says. “You can collect them when you come to visit me.”

  I
nod. “I’d like that.”

  “Oh, it is so dreadfully far,” Lady Griswold says. “I can’t imagine you’d be able to make the trip often, if ever. Especially after children come along.”

  I look away so she can’t see my face. Children. Children with Edward Griswold. It is such a terrible thought. Since I have no reason to think he will in any way be a good husband, so too do I doubt he will be a very good father. He seems very much the kind of man who will spend every possible moment in London tending to his duties as a member of parliament and leave his children at home in the country to be raised by nannies. I can only hope he will not expect me to accompany him. If we are allowed to spend much of the year apart, I might be able to carve out a small bit of happiness for myself.

  “What hat are you going to wear, dear?” Lady Griswold asks.

  “Oh, a white bonnet, I think.”

  “I’ll fetch it, ma’am,” the maid says. She goes to the wardrobe and pulls out a white, satin bonnet with white, silk flowers. She helps me tie it on to full effect.

  “There,” I say. “What do you think?”

  Lady Griswold wrinkles her nose. “Quite plain. Not something a duchess would wear.”

  “I’m sure I have a bit of pale, blue ribbon I could tie about it,” the maid says.

  I see Esme roll her eyes and wrinkle her nose.

  “Well, I’m not a duchess yet,” I say. “So I think this is fine how it is.”

  “Unacceptable,” Lady Griswold says, getting to her feet. “I’ll have Barton dig out one of my bonnets, one sure to compliment your gown.”

  As she leaves the room, I nearly want to vomit at the mention of Miss Barton. I really don’t know how I shall be able to live in the same house as her, knowing what I know. She has been acting as though nothing has changed. She still holds her head high and walks past me in the hall without an ounce of shame or remorse. Of course, she denies everything, as Edward has. She claims that she has done nothing wrong and has no reason to be ashamed.

  But, of course, I know the truth. I am sure I will confront her about it at some point. But not now. Not before the wedding.

  There is a knock at the door and another maid enters. “Lady Birchwood, the housekeeper is looking for you.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Aunt Charlotte says. As she stands she looks from me to Esme and back. “Are you all right on your own?” she asks me.

  I give her a nod and what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Of course, Auntie.” I look back at the mirror and fuss with my sleeves to keep from looking at Esme.

  “Will you excuse us?” Esme says to the maid. The maid bobs and then leaves the room. “You can still call everything off, you know,” Esme says from behind me. “You don’t have to go through with it.”

  “I think you know that I do,” I say, leaning to one side to look at her in the mirror. She huffs, crossing her arms.

  “What exactly is your problem with me?” I ask her, turning around. “Why are you making things so difficult? Neither you nor I can stop what is happening. And this is for your benefit too. My dowry is large enough to provide one for you as well.”

  “Edward is a cad!” she says, slipping off the bed and walking toward me. “A rake! Always has been. I can’t count how many women he has seduced and ruined, or seduced and managed to keep secret.”

  My mouth gapes. “What?”

  “We—the whole family—do our best to keep it quiet. Mostly county girls, people we’ve grown up with, maids. But more than one socialite has found herself at the wrong end of his affections.”

  I feel sick and have to put my hand to my mouth for a moment until my head stops swimming. “Then…then why have you been so cruel to me? What have I done?”

  Esme sighs and sorrow covers her face. “My parents would be furious if they ever found out that I spoke against him. They are desperate for Edward to marry an heiress. They are the ones pushing this; I want nothing to do with it. But if I were to ruin things between you and Edward, my parents would never forgive me.

  “I thought that if I could scare you off in other ways, you would reject his proposal. You couldn’t possibly want to marry into a family with cruel in-laws, could you?”

  “Certainly not,” I say. I reach out and take her hand. “You have been trying to protect me in your own way, and I thank you for it.”

  Her eyes water and she pulls me into a hug. “Oh, Violet, my heart breaks for you.”

  I nod and hold a finger to my nose to keep from crying. “I understand what you are going through. Even though I know Edward has been—is—will always be—unfaithful, I don’t have a choice but to marry him. My parents are pushing this as much as yours. If I don’t find a suitable husband, I’ll be summoned home and my sister sent here in my place. If I reject Edward without just cause, they will surely disinherit me altogether.”

  “Your suspicion of his philandering is not considered just cause?” she asks.

  “Certainly not!” I say. “How can I accuse him without a shred of evidence? My parents would be mortified if I were to do such a thing. They would never forgive me.”

  She sinks down onto the bed, pulling me to sit beside her. She is quiet for a long time, mulling over her words. “And if there was evidence?” she finally asks. “If there was proof? What then? Would they disinherit you then?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I think they would still be disappointed in me. I think my mother would expect me to accept such a thing in an arranged marriage.”

  “How dreadful,” Esme says, shaking her head.

  “What else can I do?”

  “Are you sure you have no other prospects?” she asks. “None at all? You’ve been to the London Season three times. Were there no men who fancied you? Perhaps a man without a title but plenty of money? You could make a love match and forget your dowry.”

  “I don’t have any prospects like that,” I say. “If I’d been looking for such a man, I am sure I could have found one. Any man without a title who approached me, I didn’t encourage. Everyone knew my parents wanted a title.”

  “What about any…other prospects?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Come now,” she says. “A gardener wouldn’t attack a peer without some strong emotions involved.”

  My face flushes hot. “I haven’t done anything! We haven’t— We’ve only talked.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything,” she says. “I’m only asking if…if you’d consider a match with someone who clearly loves you even if he is poor.”

  “Would you?” I ask her. “Honestly, would you ever marry a footman or blacksmith just because he loved you?”

  “If I loved him back,” she says with far more conviction than I believe. “It must certainly be better to be poor and happy than rich and miserable.”

  “That’s easy to say when you’ve never actually been poor.”

  “Have you?”

  “No. I was born to money. But I’ve seen how Edison and people like him live. I know their struggles. When Edison came here, his siblings dressed in rags and his mother was in constant pain. They couldn’t afford a doctor. Would you really be willing to live such a life?”

  She says nothing to this, but looks away shamefaced. She certainly cannot argue with me.

  “You called him Edison,” she says after a moment.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You used his Christian name,” she says.

  I blush and look away. “Slip of the tongue,” I say. Esme cocks her head at me, waiting for me to go on.

  “I… Fine, I admit it, I have been tempted,” I say. “Edison is a smart, compassionate, hardworking man of strong moral character. I have no doubt that he would be a wonderful husband for someone.”

  “But not for you?” she asks. I don’t respond. I’ve already explained my position. She sighs when she realizes that she is not going to be able to change my mind. “You are making a mistake.”

  “And wha
t about you?” I ask. “If I don’t marry Edward, if your family doesn’t receive my dowry, then what? What will your future look like? Are you not the one being foolish?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she says. She gets up and walks over to the mirror, turning right and left, admiring herself. With dark features much like those of her brother, she is a true beauty. “I have a feeling I will turn out all right in the end.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” I grumble.

  “I think you do,” she says. “I think that you are just afraid to admit it. You just need a little push.”

  I scoff. “And are you the one about to push me off that ledge?”

  She turns around and gives me a mischievous smile, one I have seen on her brother’s face many times. But a moment later, she is the picture of sweet innocence.

  “Darling, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  The door opens and Lady Griswold and Aunt Charlotte return, Lady Griswold holding the enormous, dark blue bonnet she went to fetch. Esme squeezes past them, gliding out of the room.

  “Is everything all right?” Aunt Charlotte asks me.

  “Of course,” I say. “Is that the bonnet?” I take it and put it on my head, tying it to the side.

  “Oh, now that is better,” Lady Griswold says.

  The bonnet is truly hideous. A large monstrosity in an old fashioned style with crimped and wrinkled silk flowers. How she could possibly think that this is an improvement over my simple, clean, white bonnet is beyond my comprehension.

  “What do you think?” my future mother-in-law asks me.

  I grit my teeth. “It’s perfect.”

  Smiling and clenching my teeth is how I am going to get through the rest of my life. I might as well start now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Edison

  I am pruning the bushes at the church on Sunday afternoon when I see Violet and her aunt climb out of their carriage. Edward and his parents will arrive soon as well. After services, the Birchwoods and Griswolds returned to the manor for lunch and to change clothes. Now, they are returning for the wedding. I shake my head in disgust. I don’t understand it. How can Violet throw her life away on such a worthless fellow? And he is worthless. He’s poor as a church mouse without her and he’s morally corrupt as well. I can’t understand the appeal of a title when it means hitching your horse to someone so wretched.