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Authors: Vivienne Westlake

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BOOK: A Marquess for Christmas
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“Why
did I think you would understand? I had hoped that you would see things my way.
When you walked in here and I saw your heavenly face, I thought my angel had
come.” His face sunk and he took the decanter and poured another glass. “But you
are like them. You must always have your way.”

If
she had her way, they would not be arguing right now. They would be nestled
together somewhere far away from everyone and everything, kissing and teasing
one another to ecstasy. It was a wish, a fantasy. Right now, she had to do what
needed to be done.

“Kit,
you need to make up with your sister. You’re inebriated and disconcerted. Go
and lie down. Sleep off the brandy and we shall sort out this mess tomorrow.”

 

Chapter Thirteen

Kit
stared at Violet, wondering how the day could have gone so wrong. He should
have barred Freddy and Bella from the door the moment they arrived. Why hadn’t
he sent them packing?

His
common sense had gone out the door. Now he was on his fourth glass of brandy,
not to mention the wine he’d had at the start of dinner. God’s blood, he hadn’t
even eaten.

Why
was he such a silly fool when it came to Bella? He knew he was being childish.
He knew Violet was right. Somehow, it still bothered him. Her censure hurt
worse than Bella’s taunts and jibes.

He
might not have flown off the handle if Bella hadn’t chastised him in front of
Violet.

“I
will go to bed if you come with me,” he said.

Violet
sighed. “No.”

“No?”

“You
heard me,
Kittrick
. No.”

It
was odd to hear his name on her lips. She only knew him as Kit and that was all
he wanted to be. All he’d ever wanted to be.

“I
will behave. I promise.” He leaned in to kiss her but her palm stopped him.

“Go
to bed.”

“I
am not sleepy.”

“Then
go and read. You have had two glasses of wine and four of brandy.”

She’d
counted his drinks even before they’d entered the study. So she had paid
attention to him tonight, despite her cool façade.

“I
love you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and trying to entice her.

“I
will not sleep with you, Kit.” She turned away from him. “I have no wish to
spend the night with a drunk.”

It
stung. He’d told her he loved her and she did not say it back. Yes, he spoke
the words teasingly, but he did mean them.

“I
love you, Violet,” he repeated. A throbbing filled his head, which felt like a
barrel full of rocks tumbling down a cliff.

She
did not turn back to face him. “Goodnight, Kit.” She walked to the door.

He
didn’t believe it until he heard her footsteps down the hall. She’d left him.

Kit
slumped into a chair and sipped at his brandy. Fucking idiot. He’d never told a
woman he loved her before. Sure, he told her he loved her body, loved her
smile, loved her breasts and all the sweet things she could do between the bed
sheets. But this was the first time he’d confessed love as it was meant to be.

And
Violet did not care at all.

A
knife twisted in his gut. Violet was practical, responsible. She prided herself
on fulfilling her duties and obligations. What if he was an obligation that she
was now finished with? His family had come for him and now his identity was
revealed. There was no need to look after him further.

She
did not love him. What if she did not like him anymore either? Could he bear to
wake up in the morning and see the disgust on her face? He’d shown her his worst
side tonight. What if she wanted nothing to do with him now?

Kit
buried his face in his hands. He’d fucked up. Just like he fucked up
everything. He thrived on being in control, on being in charge, but the truth
was he could not handle the thought of being useless, of being a
disappointment. He figured if he laughed off the rules of society and eschewed
decorum and propriety, he would be the one determining his own destiny. He
would make his own rules.

Violet
Laurens changed everything. Now he wanted to be able to take her to the theatre
and rides through Hyde Park. To sneak a kiss at Vauxhall Gardens and to watch
the horse races with her. In the evening, they would play hazard until they
were breathless and spent, literally and figuratively.

But
his fantasies crumbled like ash in a hearth. For the first time since his
parents’ death, Kit felt utterly alone.

* * * *

The
room was dark when Violet awoke. An icy chill crept over her and she leaned
over to feel Kit’s warm body and realized he wasn’t there. For the first night
in a long time, she’d slept alone.

She
threw back the covers and looked down to see Miriam sleeping on a pallet on the
floor.

When
the floorboard creaked, Miriam jumped up. “My lady. What do you need?”

“Why
are you on the floor and not in your own room?”

“Because
Avery asked me to check on you last night. You cried in your sleep and I did
not think I should leave you alone.”

Violet
walked to her vanity as Miriam got up and pulled open the drapes. In the
mirror, she saw the puffy spots under her eyes. She
had
been crying.

Things
with Kit were disintegrating rapidly. She’d never seen him so dejected and
unsure. He’d been angry before, frustrated with being cooped up in the house
under the doctor’s orders. He’d thrown things when plagued with memory loss.
Still, this was different.

There
was a hole inside of him, an emptiness she’d never seen before. The raw abyss
frightened her. She understood now that he filled that hole with anything that
could stave off the blackness—whiskey, wine, women, boxing, sport, and
anything that asserted his dominance.

Was
she merely another diversion from his deeper fears and insecurities? Was this
whole thing about his need to be in control, his need to pretend that his past,
his family didn’t matter?

“Please
pardon my impertinence, but you do not seem well, my lady. Can I get you
something? Tea? A bit of bread and cheese? You hardly ate last night.”

“A
bit of cider will be fine. Please do check if the others are awake.”

“Yes,
my lady.”

Violet
unpinned her hair, which she’d not even bothered to braid up last night, and
fingered the handle of her silver brush.

Kit’s
words came rushing back to her.
I love
you
. In his drunken stupor, he’d said the one thing she wanted to hear.
Well, the one thing apart from
I will
stay here with you.

How
could he say that, even in jest? His slurred words and playful tone left no
doubt in her mind that he meant none of it. He merely wanted her to take his
side, to defend him to Bella. How could he be so insensitive?

What
a mess. She’d embroiled herself in a conflict that was not her own, in a family
drama that had played out for decades. Could she make things right between
Daniel and Isabella?

Her
mouth soured as if she’d drank a bitter tea. She still couldn’t think of him as
Daniel. Even after yesterday.

Should
she disentangle herself and send them on their merry way? She could be done
with Kit, done with his family, and try to make some sense of her disordered
world. He would leave her heart in shambles when he walked out the door.

Violet
had always done what needs must be done. She would pick herself up and carry on
as she had before. John had left. Kit would soon be gone, too. Perhaps it was
her inevitable fate to survive the men she loved. At least she could rely on
Avery.

Miriam
returned with the cider. It was a bit early for liquor, but Violet needed to
fortify herself before she faced Kit and his sister. It looked to be a long day
ahead.

“Are
the others awake?”

“The
duke and duchess are abed. The marquess is up.” Miriam put her hand on Violet’s
arm. “My lady, you should go to him. Now.”

“He
needs to cool off. He was hot-tempered last night and likely didn’t sleep it
off.”

“No,
my lady, I do not think he did. Mrs. Norris said he is leaving.”

What?
Would he pack up and go without so much as a by-your-leave?

Miriam
handed Violet a dressing gown. Though she did not want to be caught so
undressed with the duke and duchess in the house, it could not be helped.

As
soon as she had her arms through the robe, she rushed into the hall, tying her belt
as she went. Once she stepped into the hall, she realized she’d forgotten her
slippers. The cold wood seeped into her toes.

When
she made it into the hall, she saw Kit arguing with Avery.

“Take
it.” Kit handed him what looked like an envelope. “Take it and the money.”

“No,
my lord. If you should wish to depart, you must have the decency to tell my
lady directly.”

“It
is better this way. Trust me.”

“I
will order your horse brought around for you, but I will not do
this
,” he said, handing back the letter.

“Fine.
I will give it to Miriam or slip it under her door.”

“Good.”
Avery turned around and saw her standing in the doorframe. His eyes were
stormy. “I do not think that will be necessary, sir.” He coughed.

Kit
turned toward her. His hair was a mess, his cravat tied crookedly, and he was
wearing his dinner clothes.

“I
would say good morning; however, it is anything but.”

“Violet.”

The
word sounded like paper being torn from a book.


Kittrick
.” She faced his bleak stare with a hard one of her
own. Frowning, she went over to him and loosened his cravat.

His
hands gripped her wrists. “What are you doing?”

“I
am fixing everything you have left a shambles.” The words were out of her mouth
before she could stop herself. Why on earth did she say that?

“So
again it is my fault.”

“You
are the most stubborn, domineering man. If you were not as big as an oak tree,
I would turn you over my knee.”

“Do
not say such things.” The heat in his voice melted her insides to butter.

“And
do not think to resolve the argument by tying me to the bed.”

“It
is no matter. Violet, I am leaving.” He thrust the letter into her face.

She
set it down next to the vanity. “If you have something to say to me, you say it
to me. Not like this.” She pointed to the letter.

“There
is nothing more for me to say. I am going. Isabella and I have been bickering
for twenty years. This is nothing new, but I would not burden you with it. We
will take the argument elsewhere and leave you out of it.”

Had
she not thought the very same this morning? Yet the thought of him going was
like having her chest slashed open.

“You
are running away, Daniel, and you know it.”

He
jerked back as if she’d slapped him in the face. “Kit. My name is Kit, Violet.
First you call me
Kittrick
and now Daniel. Does that
mean you are done with me? That you have forgotten about the past month and
everything we have shared together? You will treat me as some estranged
relative that you can barely tolerate?”

“You
are being foolish.” He was so wrapped up in his own anger and self-pity that he
could not see the forest for the trees.

“And
you are cruel.”

“I
have done nothing but care for you, nurse you—”
love you
, “—and share all that I have with you. You are a
spoiled child. Sooner or later, you will have to take responsibility.”

“But
not today.”

“I
would have asked you to stay, yet it is obvious to me that such words will fall
on deaf ears. You have made up your mind. At least have the decency to tell
your sister before you go.”

“Since
you are now her best friend, you tell her.”

How
could he be so ridiculous? This strong, brave man who fought off two
thieves—who seduced her into letting him do all manner of sinful things
to her, who commanded with the ease of a prince—was running from her,
running from his family. He had not the courage to face the monsters in his
mind.
 

“Do
as you like, my lord. Obviously there is nothing here for you, nothing worth
staying for.” She wanted him to change his mind. She wanted him to say that she
was worth fighting for. She wanted him to be the man she’d fallen in love with
and not this frightened little boy fleeing the ghosts of his past.

“Why
would I stay? It is obvious that you and Bella have decided what my life should
be, who I should be. I will not live my life feeling as a failure because I
didn’t live up to your expectations.”

“If
you feel like a failure it is because you choose it, not because Bella or I
have made it so. You have always been free to do as you wish and from the sound
of things, you have done just that. Do you ever stop to think that your actions
have consequences?”

“My
actions are my own. Bella cannot live her life through me. She spends so much
time trying to fix my life that she ignores her own.”

“Then
fix your own life, Daniel. Be a better man for yourself and for Isabella.”

“Goodbye,
Violet.” He took her in his arms and though she wanted to cling to him, to shed
the tears that were drowning her inside, she did not. The lips that pressed
into her forehead were gentle. “Thank you for seeing to my health and looking
after me when I could not do so for myself.”

He
squeezed her hand as he walked toward the door. “I have told Avery where to
send my things. I will send word when I have arrived safely.” He turned to
point at the three guineas sitting atop the dresser. “See that your man takes the
money. He refused the gratuity when I offered it to him.”

“I
will.”

His
gaze was an ocean and she felt herself sinking down into its depths. There was
nothing to save her from the crashing waves. Kit was leaving and she might
never see him again.

BOOK: A Marquess for Christmas
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