Haunting Violet by Alyxandra Harvey Page A

eyes narrowed as I placed my hand on his wrist.
    â€œViolet, weren’t you wearing that same dress this morning?” She smiled at Xavier, who was talking to one of her gallants about cricket. “Mr. Trethewey, I do hope Miss Willoughby didn’t ruin your coat with her clumsiness.”
    â€œNot at all, I assure you.” He bowed in my direction. I smiled and tried not to flush red. He’d think I was embarrassed when really it was my temper boiling under my skin. I was in no position to vent it here. I swallowed hard; it was like I had one of Elizabeth’s candied almonds stuck in my throat.
    Tabitha smirked. She was an earl’s daughter and knew exactly what she could get away with.
    â€œOh, Tabitha.” Elizabeth sighed. She also was an earl’s daughter and therefore unimpressed. “Stop being such a flibbertigibbet.”
    Tabitha sniffed. “Well, if you’re going to be like that,” she said, “I’ll take my new friends elsewhere.” They circled her, offering to fetch lemonade or clear a spot free of leaves under the branches so she might have some shade. The sun flashed off a cravat pin. I recognized the young man from the gardens who’d been spying on Caroline. And he’d been pacing the halls when Colin and I had hid in the ferns. He wasn’t smiling and flirting with Tabitha like the others. In fact, he looked quite desperate. And I couldn’t help but notice that his suit, though neatly pressed, was not nearly of the same quality as the others. He stood out against the lounging aristocrats, especially near Frederic, who was drinking from a silver flask he pulled out of his pocket, an emerald ring gleaming on his finger.
    Elizabeth stood up straighter. “Hello, Frederic.”
    He toasted her absently. Tabitha fluttered her eyelashes at Xavier, who blinked, ears red. “Mr. Trethewey, I should love to sketch those pink lady’s slippers we saw growing near that little cave. Perhaps you might fetch some for me? I’d be ever so grateful.”
    He glanced at me helplessly. He was no match for her. “Of course, Miss Wentworth.”
    She flashed me a look of pure smug triumph and then flounced away, the gentlemen eagerly placing bets as to who would pick the most flowers for her. Elizabeth and I were left alone, watching miserably as Xavier and Frederic disappeared to do her bidding.
    â€œShe’ll be unbearable for the rest of the week now,” Elizabeth said apologetically. “She never gets to flirt anymore, and each of those gentlemen are single and wealthy. Well, except for the one on the end. I’m not sure who he is.” She shook her head. “Her uncle won’t like it one bit when he sees that lot. And she’ll be staying overnight in one of Jasper’s guest rooms as often as she can now.” She swung her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s see if there’s any pineapple left.”

    There was a scratching at my door that night, followed by what sounded like a hedgehog choking.
    When I swung the door open, Elizabeth stopped mid-cough. “Quickly, before someone sees me.” She darted inside, a shawl draped over her nightdress and something tucked under her arm. “My mother took forever to fall asleep. I couldn’t risk creeping past her room when she was still awake. No matter how quiet I think I am, it’s like she has some occult sense when it comes to the possibility of me having any fun.” She sailed past me and took up residence on the carpet in front of the open window where the crickets sang in the rose gardens. The flame of my candle flickered in the draft.
    I joined her on the carpet, eyeing the lump under her arm suspiciously. “What have you got there?”
    â€œI found it in Uncle Jasper’s library. In the cabinet on the balcony.”
    â€œThe locked cabinet?”
    â€œNaturally. There’s nothing to picking a lock—anyone with