The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(18)

“We must be off.” She glanced at Sebastian. “I don’t have time for you any longer.”

“Aunt Violet!” Amanda protested, as Violet took her wrist and led her away. “How rude! What would people think of you, if they heard that? Even if he is a rake.”

Violet didn’t care what Amanda thought. After all, it was her parting sentence that had put that brilliant smile on Sebastian’s face. He knew what she meant.

There was, after all, no point to using a code if everyone understood it.

VIOLET SAT IN HER MOTHER’S AIRY BACK PARLOR, perched on the edge of her seat, wishing she were anywhere else.

She’d come here immediately after she’d returned her niece to her sister, after she’d seen Sebastian. Her mother was worried about some kind of scandal. If her mother knew what Violet had been doing over the last five years, this was not going to be a pretty conversation. If she didn’t, that meant her mother had some other worry on her mind. Still, she’d promised Lily, and once she’d made that promise, there was no point delaying the visit.

Her mother sat across from her. Her needles clicked at a furious pace; her eyes were trained on the sky-blue wool that flew through her fingers.

“Mama,” Violet said for the third time. “I had hoped to have a—”

“Not now, Violet.” The Dowager Baroness Rotherham had a deep, guttural voice, one that could issue commands that made servants and daughters alike jump to do her bidding. “If I lose count, I’ll have to redo the whole row.”

“It’s important, Mama.”

Her mother continued knitting, unperturbed.

Violet sighed. Of course she was less important than finishing the row.

Her mother still did not look up. Instead, her needles clacked together more loudly. But after another few moments of silence, she spoke. “The Ladies’ Guide to Proper Deportment says, and I quote, ‘A lady does not engage in any of the following behaviors: sighing, rolling her eyes, slamming doors…’ The list goes on, as I am sure you recall. Do you flout the precepts of proper deportment because you wish to put me to the blush, or is it just boorishness on your part?”

All that, and she hadn’t lifted her eyes from her knitting.

Violet felt a corner of her mouth twitch. “Mama, you wrote the Ladies’ Guide.”

An eyebrow rose. The baroness finished one last stitch and then laid her work—a short, blue scarf—aside. “I see no reason to alter my words simply because I committed them to print in the past. Quite the contrary. I labored over them once already. Why should I exert myself to express an identical sentiment in an inferior way?”

If Lily had been here, she would have a hand on her hip now, a foot tapping. She’d start scolding their mother, and afterward, when she and Violet had left the room, she would have made some sort of comment about how cold Mama was—how she could not even be bothered to greet her own children with pleasantries.

But Violet understood her mother better than her sister did. For Mama, that had been a warm greeting. She wasn’t the kind of woman who embraced those she cared for with abandon. When she was pleased to see someone, she lectured her. It was just the way she was.

“You have some reason for coming to see me?” her mother said.

“I am visiting,” Violet said smoothly. “What reason does a daughter need to visit?”

“What reason, indeed?” The baroness shook her head. “You were given the gift of speech, Violet. Make use of it.”

Violet smoothed her skirts and looked down. She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. No matter what her mother had just said, she wouldn’t appreciate it if Violet simply blurted everything out.

So, Mother, Lily gave me reason to believe that you know about a scandal. By some chance, have you figured out that I am the most reviled scientist in all of England?

They were at an impasse. There were six things that every lady was supposed to lie about. One was her own faults, which meant that Violet couldn’t admit what she’d done. Ladies also lied about faults in others—so her mother would refuse to acknowledge Violet’s hidden identity, even if she knew of its existence.

Her mother’s rules made a great deal of sense, but on occasion, they were also extremely inconvenient.

“So, Mother,” she said instead, “Lily tells me that you’re teaching Amanda the rules. And the shadow rules.”

Her mother glanced up sharply, looking around. The shadow rules were not discussed in company. But nobody else was about. “Your sister doesn’t like it much. But yes, I am. Amanda is almost a grown woman, and she deserves to know how to get on.”

“Lily thinks you’re just being difficult. I think…” Violet licked her lips and looked at her mother. “I suspect you believe that some scandal might fall on us.”

“Scandal.” Her mother picked up her scarf and turned it over, frowning as she examined her work. “I have no idea what you might be talking about. What sort of scandal do you think there might be, Violet?”

Another woman might have spoken those words as if they were a question. Her mother gave them a slight twist—the kind that suggested that she wasn’t asking a question at all, but stating a fact.

If she was going to play games, then Violet would play right along. “I have nothing in mind.”