It was absurd, she thought. Men shouldn’t be that handsome. “It was good of you to accept Lord Penvale’s invitation on such short notice, and I know you must be rather . . .” She faltered, searching for the proper adjective.
“Intrigued?” he suggested, a hint of laughter in his voice. Violet bit back a smile.
“Indeed,” she said primly, folding her napkin precisely and placing it on the table before her. “The truth is, I am in need of some assistance and I think you are just the man to provide it.”
“Lady James, I must confess, you have roused my curiosity,” he said, with a faint, suggestive pause before the last word.
Considering it best to ignore this, she continued. “I have an acting job for which I would like to hire you. It is . . . rather outside your usual line of work, and might pose some difficulties, but I was at a loss when considering to whom I could possibly turn.”
“What sort of acting job?” he asked, his tone casual, but Violet could sense his interest, could somehow feel the energy emanating from him.
“I should like you to pose as my personal physician,” she stated. “I am in the midst of a slight disagreement with my husband, and I need to convince him that I am extremely ill. He won’t believe my ruse for long if I refuse to consult a physician, so I have need of someone to pose as one who will visit me to give a dire prognosis.”
“What sort of prognosis did you have in mind?” he asked dryly.
“Consumption,” Violet said, as simply as if she were announcing her jam preference at the breakfast table.
Lord Julian stared, as if determining whether she spoke in earnest.
“I see,” he said at last, although he sounded very dubious indeed. “I must confess, I am at a loss for words.”
“With excitement, owing to your eagerness to assist me?” Violet ventured hopefully.
“Ah, no. It is more that I find myself unsure of where, precisely, to begin in my attempt to explain to you the foolishness of this plan.”
“Save your breath, Belfry, I’ve already tried,” Penvale said, taking a large sip from his wineglass.
“To begin, I believe the recommended treatment for consumption often involves a prolonged journey to a sanitarium in the Alps, or some other godforsaken Continental patch of nature, which I presume is a bit more lengthy a recovery than you have in mind.”
“Yes, but—”
“Secondly, I cannot imagine any man in his right mind reacting with anything other than anger upon discovering that he has been duped in so spectacular a fashion by his own wife, meaning that I cannot believe that this scheme will result in anything other than Audley slapping a glove in my face. And, alas, I fear I’m growing rather old for dueling.”
“Then I suggest you don’t let on that it’s you,” Violet said. “I was under the impression that you were a rather skilled actor. Or is your reputation inflated?” She could see that he was preparing to reject her, and hoped that pricking at his pride would motivate him where nothing else would.
Lord Julian, however, merely looked amused. “Well, my lady,” he replied lazily, leaning back in his chair, “as tempting as it is to assist you in this entirely half-baked scheme of yours, I’m afraid it shan’t be possible for a number of reasons. The most noteworthy being that I am acquainted with your husband, and therefore cannot possibly hope to pass myself off as an unknown physician.”
“Surely any good actor is adept at costuming himself,” Diana noted. Her silence apparently had its limits.
“This is true,” Lord Julian acknowledged reluctantly.
“Then it should be no trouble for you to do as I ask,” Violet said.
“I see no reason to play a role in your little marital game,” Lord Julian announced.
“It’s not—” Violet protested, but Lord Julian continued as though she hadn’t said anything.
“I’ve no great admiration for the institution of marriage, so please believe me, my lady, when I tell you that my objections do not stem from a concern about the felicity of your and Audley’s union. However, I see no possible advantage to me, and the mild possibility that your husband shall ask me to meet him with pistols at dawn. That is a risk I am willing to take only for the sake of more . . . pleasurable results, shall we say.” He took another sip of wine, then leaned back in his chair, as though he were a chess