The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(15)

“More fool her,” Violet muttered.

Lily huffed and patted Violet on the shoulder. “Please, Violet. You’re my only hope.”

“Hmph.” Violet sniffed politely.

But Lily knew her too well. It was nice to be needed—if only for this tiny thing.

“I’ll talk to them both,” Violet said.

And if those tasks didn’t take her mind off the words Sebastian had spoken, the ones that cycled through her mind at the most inopportune moments—I have standards. You don’t meet them—nothing would.

Chapter Four

“SO TELL ME ABOUT THIS SUITOR you do not wish to marry,” Violet said.

It was half an hour after she’d wished her sister farewell. The park was hot and her wide-brimmed hat scarcely shielded her face from the sun. Still, there was nowhere else to talk without interruption. Amanda had seven brothers and three sisters; privacy was in short supply at her home.

Her niece flushed. “I never said I didn’t wish to—”

“Good God,” Violet said. “If we have to talk around this thing, we’ll never get anywhere. Ignore Grandmama’s advice for once. Lean in and whisper.”

Amanda leaned in. But her nose wrinkled. She glanced at Violet and then straightened and looked away.

“Oh, come on,” Violet said. “I’ll help you start. It goes like this: ‘I don’t love him.’”

“It’s worse than that.”

“You’re in love with the stable boy.”

Amanda smiled in spite of herself. “No. He’s twelve.”

“Well, then. It can’t be that awful. You are not in love with a child in your family’s employ. So tell me.”

Her niece grimaced. “I was visiting my friend Sarah. She married two months ago, you know? She told me what happens when women marry.”

“Oh?” Violet’s spirits sank. It was one thing to do Lily a favor. But she refused—absolutely refused—to have the “penises are not that bad, and in fact, many women come to like them” talk with her in Hyde Park, of all places.

“As far as I can tell,” Amanda continued, “you plan menus, look over the servants, and go on visits.” She huffed. “That’s the entirety of your life, once you marry.”

Oh, thank God. It wasn’t the penis talk.

“It sounds boring,” Amanda moaned, and then looked over at Violet. “Not—not that you are boring. Or my mother. Just—”

Violet tapped her fingers together. “There are charitable organizations. You might volunteer.”

Amanda blew out a breath. “Charity is well and good, but the organizations for genteel ladies seem particularly useless. It makes no sense to spend four hours a day meeting other women so you might knit stockings for the deserving poor, especially as you must pay three shillings to the association for tea while you do that.” Her lip curled. “If we took those shillings and used them to employ women to do piecework, we could both provide employment to the deserving poor and produce better stockings than our haphazard efforts.”

Violet glanced at her niece. “I see why your mother fobbed you off on me,” she commented dryly. “You’re being logical.”

Also, Lily seemed to be under the illusion that Violet favored the institution of marriage. It wasn’t so bad for people like her sister. But it had been Lily’s fault that Violet had married so well. Violet—plain, uninteresting Violet—would never have had any attention at all, were it not for her sister’s amazing fertility. In the mind of an aging earl, Violet’s presumed fecundity had trumped everything else.

“It’s a colossal waste of my time,” Amanda said. “The entire institution of marriage sounds like a waste of time. Why does a woman agree to that?”

“Because she hasn’t a better idea what to do with herself?” Violet said dryly. “That’s why most people marry.”

“That’s an absolutely aggravating reason.”

“It’s an aggravating system. Get used to it.”

Amanda snorted and then looked away. “Ha. What I need is some kind of distraction for Mama. Something to do for now until I figure out a better idea.”

Alarm bells began to ring in Violet’s head. This, she suspected, was not how Lily had hoped the conversation would run.

“Would you go with me to America?” Amanda asked sweetly.

“No.”

“France?”

“Maybe, but not for long enough to avoid the question of your marriage altogether.”

“Aunt Violet, you’re my only hope.”

Lily had said the exact same thing. Violet sighed and stared across the pond.

“I’ll think about it,” Violet said, and proceeded to do just that.

Lily wanted her to convince Amanda to marry. Amanda wanted Violet to carry her away. And Violet’s mother no doubt had an agenda of her own on top of all that, one that Violet was afraid to contemplate.

Violet couldn’t see herself lying to her niece. Amanda would never forgive her. But she also couldn’t see herself telling her the truth: You can do a great deal if you marry. Just make sure your grandmother negotiates an excellent settlement, hope your husband dies, and then find someone else to claim the credit for what you want to accomplish.