The Song of Love Read online

  “You hardly need worry about that. My family will never abandon me.”

  He was not pleased by her desire to impose on him as little as possible. He’d been caught behaving badly, fair and square. He thought he’d feel angry or frustrated, but couldn’t seem to rouse even a dollop of indignation.

  He was beginning to think of himself as fortunate. He’d known Violet only a few hours, but he liked her very much already. Not just her body that had him convulsed in a shark-like frenzy every time he looked at her. But if he thought of the entirety of her, she was amiable, caring, and probably quite intelligent, in addition to being beautiful.

  He already knew she was nothing like the spoiled, pampered diamonds of the ton who were often paraded in front of him at those mind-numbing balls and supper parties. Nothing warmed a man’s heart more than knowing he’d been thoroughly investigated and the woman being introduced to him already knew the size of his purse and how much gold he had in his teeth.

  Violet was quite possibly the one, true diamond among these supposed gems.

  “I see no reason to make myself an obligation to you,” she said, interrupting his musings. “I am quite capable of remaining independent. You need not fear, I shall not be left destitute if you fail to provide for me. If we must marry, I have no intention of becoming a clinging vine.”

  But she would sleep in his bed?

  Allow him to claim his husbandly rights?

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. “Neither of us is used to this betrothal business. I did not mean to insult you or your family. I just wanted you to know that I will not shirk in my duty to you. I will take care of you, no matter what your family chooses to provide for you.”

  She frowned.

  “Violet, why are you not happy about this?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “You’re offering me everything. I don’t wish to seem ungrateful, but I can’t help feel that it is all to my advantage.”

  “I gain from it, too. A beautiful, caring wife. I could do a lot worse for myself.”

  “But don’t you think something is missing?”

  He leaned back and extended his arms across the back of the bench. “What do you feel is missing?”

  “I haven’t worked it out yet. This marriage business doesn’t sit well with me. Perhaps I’ll understand it better once I’ve finished reading The Book of Love.”

  “Ah, yes. That book.” He closed his eyes and leaned his face toward the sun. Just what he needed, some ancient, dead author’s advice on how to satisfy one’s wife. Blessed saints. Was this book about the erotic acts of sex?

  His eyes shot open, and he stared at Violet.

  She returned his gaze. Smiling. Unruffled.

  No, this book could not be about that. Could it?

  The girl would not be looking at him with the innocent calm of a churchyard angel if it were. And Lord help him if it was all about the naked positions he could get into with Violet. He’d be dead by Sunday, his heart exploded and his male parts shriveled from wear.

  No, the book had to be about finding romantic happiness with one’s wife. Or one’s husband, for her part. He wanted to dismiss those ridiculous notions of abiding love and contentment out of hand. But in truth, it was exactly what he needed, wasn’t it? “Let’s go over the book tomorrow. How about we meet right here after lunch?”

  “All right. But I could meet you earlier if you prefer.”

  “No, I’ll be interviewing staff and supervising some furniture deliveries tomorrow morning. Oh, and I owe you a new pair of spectacles since I crushed yours under my boot.”

  “I’ll get the spectacles.” She chuckled lightly. “It isn’t a rush. My eyesight isn’t all that bad. I use them mostly to chase men away.”

  He regarded her with some surprise. “Why would you want to do that? Aren’t you here to find yourself a husband?”

  She nodded. “But I’d rather do it at my own pace. I was looking forward to spending this first year as…” She cleared her throat. “As an impossibly hopeless wallflower.”

  He laughed. “Violet, a man would have to be as dead as a doorknocker to overlook your beauty. You can’t hide it. Even if you tried, it wouldn’t work. If I may be honest with you, men don’t always look at a girl’s face first. Your body is not something you can easily hide from a man’s discerning eye.”

  He worried that he might have been too crude and insulting, but her eyes lit up. “That is amazing! This is exactly what the author of The Book of Love suggests. Did you know that a man’s brain functions differently than a woman’s brain?”

  Romulus grinned at her. “No, I did not. But it doesn’t surprise me. How are they different?”

  Her eyes were sparkling, and her smile was entrancing. Lord, he could wake up to Violet each morning once they were married. Did that little termagant, Phoebe Withnall, know this when she gave them a week to sort themselves out? He’d wanted to throttle her two hours ago, but it could be that he ought to be kissing her in gratitude.

  Of course, he’d much rather be kissing Violet’s rosebud lips. He shook out of the thought and concentrated on Violet’s words as she began to explain the difference between men and women. Bless those differences.

  Bless her lightly heaving, perfect chest.

  “A man’s brain functions on two levels, the low brain and the high.” She glanced up at him, looking rather pleased with herself.

  Ah, yes. Low brain function. When it came to Violet, his thoughts were surprisingly dug deep in that low ditch. But he schooled his expression, allowing nothing more than the arch of his eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  Her cheeks now had a soft pink stain on them. “The author suggests that a man first assesses a woman’s body to determine whether or not she’s healthy enough to bear his offspring. This is an important part of his low brain function. But I think I ought to leave the rest of the explanation for tomorrow when we discuss the book in greater detail. I’m sure we’ll find it very helpful.”

  “It sounds intriguing. Even a little horrifying.”

  “It is quite scientific.” She nodded with enthusiasm. “You mentioned you were going to interview staff tomorrow. May I help?”

  “Yes, if you’d like.”

  She emitted a light breath. “Yes, I would. Very much.”

  He smiled, actually looking forward to her company as he went about this task. “The first scheduled appointment is for ten o’clock in the morning. Is that too early for you?”

  “Not at all. I’m usually up with the sunrise. These late town hours are not for me. I’ll be ready and will come over at ten.”

  “Bring your maid with you.”

  “Oh, do you wish for her opinion as well?”

  He chuckled. “No, I wish for a chaperone for you. I don’t think Lady Dayne will be up and about that early. We’re in enough of a mess as it is. If Lady Withnall, that old gossip, suddenly grows a heart and decides to keep our bee escapade a secret, I don’t wish us to create another scandal that will be impossible to overlook.”

  “Of course. I should have thought of that. I can ask my Aunt Sophie to join us. She has lots of experience in matters of staffing one’s household. There is constant turnover in the house, although it is mostly nannies. Our cook, Mrs. Mayhew, has been with my aunt and uncle forever. Her brother, Abner Mayhew, is our coachman, and her son, Amos, is our groom. He is very good with horses. By the way, so is my cousin Laurel. Let me know if you need a horse. She’ll help you choose the finest.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She smiled, nodded, and continued. “Pruitt is our butler. He’s also been with the family forever. Since before I was born. I could also ask the Mayhews and Pruitt if they have friends or family in service they might recommend.”

  “That would be helpful. I much prefer their references than those of some lofty toff who knows nothing about what it takes to keep his household running smoothly. Leave it to a servant to understand their duties best
or to sense whether an applicant will be suitable or not. Trust is most important to me. Discretion, loyalty, competence.”

  “And a cheerful attitude.”

  He nodded. “If you say so.”

  “I do. There is nothing more depressing than a dour countenance. Although I would allow it in a head butler. He must appear a little daunting. Pruitt is perfect in this way, fearsome on the outside, but on the inside, he is the soul of kindness.”

  “Then I shall look for someone like Pruitt when I choose my head butler.” He rather liked the idea of Violet helping him out. After all, this would be her home as well. He wasn’t merely indulging her to be kind.

  But she was nibbling her lip.

  Something was still troubling her.

  He couldn’t figure out what it was, so he simply decided to ask her.

  Yes, he supposed the direct approach was best. Her happiness mattered to him…well, it would matter once he got to know her better. For now, he wanted her to understand that he would respect her contribution to their soon-to-be household. “Why are you fretting, Violet?”

  “Am I? Yes, I must be. It isn’t important.”

  Other young ladies might enjoy being pampered or treated like brainless fribbles who needed a strong man to protect them, but Romulus sensed that she was not one of them. “You can confide anything in me. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. Lady Exmoor warned you had a protective nature. Apparently, all the Brayden men do.”

  He grinned. “We are a military family, raised from birth to go out in the world and slay dragons. I’ll try not to be too overbearing.”

  The Brayden women were not traditional either. They were true partners to their husbands in every way. Not a single porcelain doll to be kept on a display shelf among them. “Violet, you haven’t asked me details of the financial arrangements of our betrothal.”

  “Oh, yes. I forgot.”

  He was pleased by the notion. “You are not mercenary by nature.”

  “I’ve never had to worry about my future. We Farthingales look after each other. But I suppose I ought to know what has been decided.” She nodded. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  “Since I am not a nobleman, I do not have to worry about entailed properties. So, everything I have will be yours. My townhouse will pass to you outright along with twenty thousand pounds. The rest will be placed in trust for your benefit and that of our children, but managed by my cousin Finn. He’s brilliant when it comes to matters of finance.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “That’s absurd. You don’t even know me. What of your own family?”

  “My brother is a rich man. He doesn’t require my wealth. If he should die without male issue, then I will inherit his title and estates. Those will not be yours, but will pass to our eldest son from our marriage. Of course, as I said, assuming James has no sons of his own.”

  “And then assuming we have sons.” She was nibbling her lip again. “I hadn’t considered that you might be the next Earl of Exmoor.”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “Then you are the only debutante in London who has not given it thought. James and Sophie have been husband and wife almost five years now and have produced no children. I would be overjoyed for them if it happened. They haven’t said anything to me, nor have I asked, but it is quite possible they can’t.”

  “My aunt adores Lady Exmoor. So do I, although I don’t know her nearly so well. Nor do I know your brother, but it is obvious he adores his wife.”

  “He does.” Romulus hoped to keep the pain from his voice, but he did not think he could. Yet, he already trusted Violet enough to reveal his anguish and know she would treat him gently. “I never saw a man more miserable than James when he returned home after Waterloo. He used to be the ton’s golden boy. So handsome, it was as though the sun shone down from the heavens whenever he entered a room.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You must have adored him, too.”

  He nodded. “He is my big brother. I worshiped him.”

  “I feel the same about my sister, Poppy. She’s my best friend. I’m close with my cousins, too.” She laughed softly. “People jest about the Chipping Way curse, as though my cousins were these awful monsters who trapped unmarried men, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Your brother was your hero, I understand how badly you must have felt when he was injured.”

  “He was treated so unfairly when he returned home from the war. Women used to fawn all over him. But those scars on his face changed everything. Suddenly, he was no longer that magnificent Roman god everyone adored. Those very women now thought of him as a beast, no matter that he had sacrificed everything for those ungrateful, pampered peahens. He married Sophie because of a promise made to a dying friend, but she has been his salvation. She saw beyond his scars immediately.”

  He cast Violet a grim smile. “I don’t wish to say more about him. I’ve said too much already. His health suffered greatly during the war. Your uncle George saved his damaged leg. For that, my entire family is forever in his debt. George is a brilliant doctor. But the fact remains, James has no children and may never have any.”

  On impulse, Violet entwined her fingers with his. “I am truly sorry.”

  He nodded. “He’s made provision for Sophie. She’ll never have a moment’s worry. As I said, Finn is the family’s King Midas. Seems everything he touches turns to gold.”

  “Still, if what you say is true, then you’ve been quite generous with me.”

  “Yet, it troubles you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “It all feels too easy. I don’t resent it, but I am not comfortable with it. In truth, I’m not comfortable with you. With us. What do we have in common? What will bind us to each other if we are forced to marry? To be precise, what is there about me to hold your interest?”

  He shook his head in surprise. “Violet, you’re beautiful.”

  “Is that all? Beauty fades over time. What then?”

  Chapter Five

  A light mist fell the following morning as Romulus stood by his front gate awaiting the wagons bringing his sparse furnishings to his new home. In truth, he had woefully little. So little, he’d been sleeping at his brother’s home for the past few days. It was better than sleeping on the dusty floor in front of one of the sooty hearths.

  That he’d been here yesterday when the bees attacked Violet was a coincidence. He’d only gone to the house to complete an inventory of the kitchen and then start on the other rooms when he’d heard her screams and run to help.

  It was also a remarkable coincidence that General Allworthy had left a stock of herbs, spices, and bottles of assorted pickling brines including vinegar in his pantry.

  He watched the men unload the wagons. A bed, armoire, and bureau for his bedchamber. A desk and leather chair for his study. General Allworthy had left behind many things, including bookshelves in the library, and an elegant buffet, table, and chairs in the dining room.

  The dining table was of mahogany wood. The cushioned chairs were covered in a colorful bird pattern. The massive buffet was also of mahogany wood and took up the entire west wall. They were all in pristine condition since the old curmudgeon rarely entertained. This was the most presentable room in the house.

  As a distant bell chimed ten o’clock, Romulus glanced toward the Farthingale house. A moment later, Violet tore through the front gate. She darted between raindrops that were falling more steadily now, and had nothing more to protect her than a paisley shawl held over her head while she raced to his house.

  “Violet,” he said with a laugh, catching her by the waist as she was about to run straight into him. She would have bounced off his chest and landed on her nicely shaped derriere in one of the newly formed rain puddles if he hadn’t grabbed her. “Do you never simply walk?”

  “No,” she said, smiling up at him. “Am I late?”

  “Right on time.” He glanced over her head. “Where is your chaperone?”

  “I shall have two chaperones th
is morning, Aunt Sophie and Mrs. Mayhew. They’ll be along in a moment. Did you know Lady Dayne is hosting a supper party this evening? I’m sure you’ve been invited.”

  He nodded. “I have.”

  “So have I. She has assured me that she will take over chaperone duties tomorrow. What a relief, she isn’t nearly as snoopy as my family. But for now, it is Aunt Sophie and Mrs. Mayhew shouldering the duty. We noticed the wagons pull up in front of your house and thought the workers might like some tea and currant scones. I came ahead to see what else you might need.”

  “Other than a replenished stock of vinegar?”

  She laughed.

  He held out his arm to her. “Come inside. I suppose we’re safe enough with all these men traipsing in and out.”

  As he led her in, he realized his new home was in desperate need of a woman’s touch. The men were now carrying the unloaded furniture inside, and he had no idea where to place the pieces. Nor had he thought to have the house properly cleaned from top to bottom before moving in. His sister-in-law had suggested it, even offered to help, but he’d forgotten all about it and now it was too late.

  Violet walked in ahead of him.

  Once inside, she wrapped her shawl around her waist and casually brushed back her hair. It was fashioned in a loose bun, but stray wisps had escaped the pins and were now curling around her ears.

  Romulus could not resist tucking back a few of those loose curls. His knuckles grazed her cheek, immediately causing Violet to blush, but she did not draw away. He traced his thumb along that same cheek to wipe a raindrop off it. She smiled up at him, and his heart beat faster.

  She was so pretty.

  Stars shone in her eyes.