rogue,â another woman said. âThat isnât going to change. If she is with child, it wonât be long before heâll have the poor chit shipped off to the country.â
Violet took a fortifying breath and fought to ignore the womenâs words, but no matter which way she turned, the same conversation swirled around her. Rule and his libertine ways and the matter of his hasty marriage. None of them knew, of course, that he had been married for the past three years.
A thought that galled her.
And embarrassed her.
She was his wifeâat least in name. He should have had the decency to own up to the vows he had made. It took all of her will not to turn and march out of the ballroom.
Ever supportive, Caroline hurried up beside her. âTheyâre all just jealous. Rule married you, not one of their prissy daughters.â
âYour cousin is right.â Black-haired and beautiful, Elizabeth Dewar floated toward her. âTheyâll have their fun for a bit, but in the end, you are Ruleâs wife. That is all that matters.â
âBoth Beth and I faced the same sort of gossip when we were first married,â Lily added. âIn time, your marriage will be old news, just as ours is.â
Violet glanced to where her husband stood in conversation with a group of men and women. âApparently Rule is quite popular with the ladies.â
âYes, well, that is all in the past,â Elizabeth said. âYour marriage was not yet official, not the way Rule saw it. Now that you are here, you wonât have to worry about that sort of thing again.â
But Violet didnât believe it. A leopard didnât change its spots, and a scoundrel didnât cleave to just one woman.
It didnât matter. In a month, he would be free to live as he chose, and she would be on her way back home.
âI appreciate your kindness and support,â she said to the women. âTruly I do.â
Lily smiled. âWeâre sisters now. Sisters take care of each other.â
Violet felt an unexpected thickness in her throat. She had never had siblings, though she had wanted a brother and sister very badly. âThank you.â She felt a renewed shot of guilt. The Dewars were willing to accept her into their family, while she had no intention of living up to their expectations of her as Ruleâs wife.
A little shiver of awareness went through her as he returned to her side. The man fairly exuded confidence, power and virility. Violet did her best not to notice.
âThey are playing a waltz,â he said. âI have yet to dance with my wife. Would you do me the honor, my lady?â
She started to remind him he had agreed to call herViolet, but somehow it no longer seemed important. Instead she took his arm, wishing far more that he would stop referring to her as his wife. She would never truly be his and she wasnât the sort to pretend.
Still, she let him lead her onto the dance floor and took her place in front of him. Since he stood nearly a foot taller than she, dancing with him should have been awkward, but from the moment he took her in his arms and the music started, from the instant he swept her into the rhythm of the dance, it was like floating on air.
Round and round the parquet floor he whirled her, keeping perfect rhythm, holding her a little closer than proper, even for a husband. She tried to ignore the warmth of his palm at her waist, the way his long leg wedged between hers with each of his graceful turns. She tried to ignore the way he was looking at her, as if she belonged to him and he couldnât wait to ravish her.
Her breathing quickened. A tendril of heat curled softly in the bottom of her stomach. She forced herself to think of Jeffrey, handsome and fair, blond hair gleaming as he held her hand in the gardens at Griffin Heights and told her he had fallen in love with her.
She tried to imagine she was waltzing with Jeffrey, but when she looked
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