“I’ve told you before. I am not a spy, just a man with skill at getting answers to his questions.” He swiped his palm over his face. “It is true, though, that I already know how to position my impending nuptials. Is it such a crime? I am helping her. What is the problem with that?”
He strode over to the dark window and stared out. He had come only to say his private farewells not debate the soundness of his plan. Violet walked across the room to stand behind him, the whisper of fabric betraying her movement. She hesitated, and then wrapped her arms about his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. Anyone watching would have taken it for a lover’s gesture – but the only thing on offer here was comfort.
“I am sorry. I don’t mean to question. I know you would never hurt her. You are always careful of the innocent. It just seems like a great step to take without considering all the possibilities.”
“God, I don’t know.” For the first time Tristan felt doubt seep into his voice. “Having Lady Smythe-Burke arrive was both a blessing and a curse. If she is a driving force behind my marriage, she will ensure Marguerite’s welcome everywhere, but I must admit that I did feel the noose tighten when she entered. I am a better hound than fox. Still, all in all, the whole affair feels right. I have learned to follow my instincts. Does that make any sense?”
“Actually, yes. I know that everyone thought I married Carrington for his money, never mind I’d enough of my own after Stanton and Milton. But, in truth it just felt right. I actually didn’t mind another husband and he was in need of me as a wife.”
“You’ve never talked about him.”
“No, and I don’t intend to start now. Tris, I need to know, did I trap you by sending Lady Smythe-Burke? Are you just spinning another story to reassure me? I confess I didn’t think it through. The idea just came to me and there was not time to discuss it before we were interrupted.”
“I admit I didn’t appreciate Lady Smythe-Burke’s help in landing my bride. I became the hunted rather than the hunter. Not a sensation I am fond of. However, you are correct that having Lady Smythe-Burke take Marguerite in hand is an absolute guarantee of her acceptance.”
“I do wish your success. You’ve a magical ability to make the world revolve to your direction, but the more I consider, the more I wonder if we’ve made a mistake. A young pregnant bride does not seem the best of choices.”
“One would think not.” Tristan pulled away. “It is certainly not the normal course of a right-minded man. Marguerite, asked if I was crazed. Perhaps she is correct.”
“You have taken the insane route before and ended up at the top of the heap. Do you doubt yourself now?”
He turned to face her.
“No, that may be the most insane part of all. I know my reasons, and I trust in them. They are far more valid than the world can ever know.” Again he saw Marguerite curled on his sheets. She smiled at him, her lips curved as they had been about the wedge of lemon, her eyes speaking of pleasures yet to come. He coughed and stepped away, rearranging the fall of his coat. He walked to the center of the room. “But that is not why I came. Violet, I need to be sure this will not cause you more hurt.”
Her contralto laugh filled the room.
“You make it sound as if I were your mistress and you needed to give me a farewell kiss and a parting gift. Have you begun to believe your own fabrications? I won’t refuse a present, though. A lady can never have enough jewels.”
“You do me good. If I were ever to take another mistress I could not do better. I chose wisely for my fabrication, as you put it. Go ahead. Choose some sparkling trinket and have the bill sent to me.”
She turned her face away, and spoke. “But, would I ever become your mistress? You may have an angel’s face, but you know I am partial to younger men. You are by far too ancient for me – your brother Peter, now, he might be another matter . . . But, don’t worry, Tris. This will cause me no further damage.”