Max smothered a sigh. He was disappointed, but probably not for the reason Underhill assumed. He needed the diversion of a woman closer in age, one who did not make him randy at every turn. Losing Louisa meant he needed to find another woman, fast. “Of course. There were plans for tonight, so . . .?”
“I’ll take care of that. Appreciate it, Ravensthorpe.”
“I wish you luck. She is a remarkable woman.”
They parted and Max wanted to punch the wall in frustration. All he could do was pray his hand would suffice for tonight.
Violet’s father found her almost the instant she slipped back into the ballroom. Papa was protective of her, especially in settings such as this. Perhaps it was because he was a rogue himself and knew the dangers that lurked during these night events. In fact, Mama frowned every time he left the house after dinner, as if she knew the illicitness he would seek out in those evening hours.
Violet and her parents had never been close. She’d never understood her father’s philandering. Mama would yell and carry on, demand he stop seeing other women, and he would settle down for a few months. But the cycle soon repeated itself, her father incapable of remaining faithful, apparently. He never cared about the harm he caused, or the burden on his wife in enduring it.
For her part, Mama seemed unhappy, angry with everyone. Withdrawn. She refused to attend large social gatherings, even during Violet’s debut, so Papa escorted Violet about instead.
“There you are,” her father said. “You had me scared half to death. Where were you?”
Violet caught Ravensthorpe’s tall form across the room where he was speaking with Louisa’s husband. The duke appeared uncomfortable, his shoulders stiff and straight, looking nothing like the man who spoke seductive filth in secluded gardens.
You have every man panting after you the second you walk into a room.
“Violet,” Papa snapped. “I asked you a question.”
“I required fresh air. I went out on the terrace for a moment.”
“It is unsafe for you to be there alone. Did you . . . see anyone?”
“No,” she lied. “Not a soul.”
Her father visibly relaxed. Had he known Ravensthorpe was outside?
“Good. Shall we leave, then?”
Ravensthorpe headed to the door, most likely leaving the ball. With the duke gone, there was no reason to stay. “Of course. I’ve had my fill of heated ballrooms.”
“You are looking flushed. Are you all right?”
“I am?” She patted her cheeks. Was Papa able to see the lust on her face?
Lord Patton suddenly appeared at Papa’s elbow. Patton bowed to Violet, his gaze lingering on her bosom in a manner that had her longing for a shawl. She’d never liked the man. He stood too close when speaking with her and found excuses to brush against her whenever possible. It made her skin crawl.
“The lovely Lady Violet.” Patton reached for her hand, taking it before she could blink, and brought it to his lips. “Good evening to you, miss.”
“My lord,” she offered with a curtsy.
“Do you mind if I steal your father away for a moment?” Patton asked. “Then perhaps you’ll honor me with a dance?”
She said the first thing that came to mind. “We were just on our way out.”
Her father nodded. “We were leaving, but I’ll only be a moment, Violet. Meet me by the front entrance, won’t you?”
She excused herself and sighed in relief over evading Patton. Perhaps a stop in the ladies’ retiring room was in order. At least there she could splash water on her face in an attempt to cool herself after the encounter with Ravensthorpe. The man possessed an uncanny ability to send her up in flames at the snap of his fingers.
The retiring room was empty. She took a moment to relieve herself and clean her hands. When she cracked the door, she discovered Louisa and her husband, Lord Underhill, behind a plant in the corridor, embroiled in what appeared to be a heated exchange. Had Lady Underhill’s husband discovered her affair with Ravensthorpe?
Violet slowly retreated into the retiring room while keeping the door cracked ever so slightly for sound. Terrible of her to eavesdrop, but how could she help herself? This conversation could provide her with additional insight into Ravensthorpe.
“You will do what I say, Louisa,” Underhill said, his voice low and sharp. “You will not see him again—not until I have an heir.”
Violet sucked in a breath, then covered her mouth with a hand. So, Underhill knew of the affair and was forcing Louisa to call it off.
“Absolutely not,” Louisa hissed. “You have no right to ask me to do so.”
“As your husband, I do, actually.”
“We’ve tried for a child twice without success. I have no desire to try again. It’s exhausting.”
“Understandable, as it’s no picnic on my end, but that does not change the fact that we must do it. I’ve looked the other way on your affairs for years. This is the least you can do. Otherwise I’ll be forced to move you out to the country. Try meeting your paramour way up there.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’ll have your bags packed tomorrow if you don’t agree.”
Violet’s eyes widened. Between her parents and this couple, marriage seemed like a nightmare for wives. No fidelity or trust. Just threats and tantrums each way one turned.
“But I may return to him once I give you an heir?”
“Of course.” Underhill actually sounded accommodating, as if he were doing her a favor. “Not that Ravensthorpe will wait for you.”
“We have a bond you could not understand,” she said—and Violet’s stomach sank. Were there legitimate feelings between Ravensthorpe and Louisa? The possibility made Violet nauseous.
Underhill chuckled, but not with humor. “No doubt his wife thought the same before he caused her death. Besides, the man has screwed his way through the ton for years. You don’t believe you are special to him, do you?”
“Again, you would not understand. I have kept his interest longer than most.”
“Even still, do not find yourself surprised when he moves on.”
“We have plans tonight. When I see him, I’ll inform him that—”
“No need,” Underhill interrupted. “I took care of it earlier when I spoke to him.”
Violet leaned closer to the door, surprised. Lord Underhill had canceled the assignation with Ravensthorpe. Was that why the duke had appeared so uncomfortable on his way out?
Louisa gasped. “You had no right!”
“I beg to differ. I plan on getting started immediately, Louisa. And no doubt Ravensthorpe is wallowing in a Covent Garden bordello by now.”
Was that where Ravensthorpe had gone? Out to visit a bawdy house? Violet’s throat tightened, choking on the possibility that she might never be alone with him again.
“He despises those types of establishments,” Louisa said. “Which is why I know he’ll wait for me.”
A group of women came laughing and chatting around the corner, likely headed for the retiring room. To avoid being caught eavesdropping, Violet pushed open the door and walked into the corridor. Lady Underhill brushed by as if headed for the ballroom, while her husband had already turned away, drifting deeper into the house. Violet’s mind spun with possibility as she nodded at the blur of young ladies as they passed, not really noticing them.