The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(38)

“Get on with you,” Lily finally said, holding on to her husband’s fingers. “Don’t you have bills to read? Speeches to write?”

“I always do better with inspiration.” He leaned down to her lips.

Violet’s hands compressed.

Lily simply stepped aside. “Out,” she said. “We ladies have things to discuss.” She shut the door on him, but stood there against it for a moment, one hand on the knob, swaying slightly.

In that moment, Violet hated happy couples. She felt the weight of that emotion, a burdensome, unworthy resentment, one that tugged at her. She’d never begrudged Lily a thing, but sometimes it felt unfair. Lily had so much, and Violet…

Lily smiled dreamily. “I know what you are thinking,” she said. “You’re thinking of Mama’s rules: ‘A lady never contradicts her husband, and a daughter never contradicts her father.’”

Violet exhaled slowly. Lily had never known what Violet thought. It was why Violet loved her so dearly. She took all of Violet’s most horrible thoughts and transformed them into something almost human.

“A wife takes her consequence from her husband,” Lily continued. “To undermine him is to lose her own place in society.”

“That wasn’t the point of that rule,” Violet said. “It wasn’t about submitting to your husband, but about public perception…” She trailed off.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Public, private. How is there any difference? I feel awful. I have to tell him no occasionally. If he so much as sneezes in my direction, I get pregnant.”

Violet’s nails cut grooves into her palms. Better that sharp pain, though, than to speak her regrets aloud, to allow them to dig into her heart.

Lily’s eyes jerked wide open. She turned to Violet. “Oh, God.” She reached toward her sister. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said—I wasn’t thinking…”

Violet chose her words carefully, imagined that each one was an iron block, walling her off from her fierce resentment.

“There’s no need to apologize. If we could not talk of children with one another, we’d have little enough to say.” She took a deep breath, and met her sister’s gaze squarely. “And if you think I was unaware that you caught a child at every turn, you must imagine me the most unobservant sister ever. After your fifth child, it was obvious to even an impartial observer that children came rather easily. As you’ve just managed number eleven…” She managed a shrug.

“True.” But Lily still looked stricken. “Still, there’s no need for me to rub your nose in it. I’m so sorry. I feel awful. I should never have said a word.”

If Lily felt so awful, then why was Violet the one comforting her? Because that’s the way Lily is.

“Stop worrying,” Violet told her. “If you imagine I’m harboring jealousy about your ability to conceive, I am not. I promise you.”

“But—”

“I promise you,” Violet said, “on our father’s grave. Have I ever lied to you?”

Her sister’s face cleared. “No.”

Violet kept her own face impassive. Quite technically, she had never told Lily an outright lie. She’d only misdirected and falsely implied. Lily—forthright, trusting Lily—had never considered that Violet might be withholding…everything. And now that Violet had held back years of dark secrets, there was no way to make it right.

“I don’t weep over my lack,” Violet said, trying for something closer to familial friendliness. “I love your children. They’re enough for me.”

Lily smiled a little sadly. “You don’t weep at all, Violet.”

“Why should I? Nothing makes me sad.”

Lily was sunshine and openness. She was warmth and smiles. She was everything Violet could have been, if only… There were too many if onlys in the way for Violet to find herself in her sister. Lily was the warmer version of herself. It would be foolish to say that Violet was jealous of her. Jealousy was so plain, so unforgiving. One couldn’t love jealously, and if Violet knew one thing, it was that she loved her sister. Watching Lily’s life was as close as Violet would ever come to experiencing normalcy: children, affection, trust, family, love.

No, Violet wasn’t jealous of her sister.

But sometimes, when she was around her, she hated the world.

“So,” Violet said. “About Amanda. I know you want me to talk to her, but… You realize that you might not like what I tell her?”

Lily laughed, as if everything were right with the world again. “Goodness, Violet. Of course I won’t like it. You’ll talk to her sternly and logically. You’ll present all her options. You’ll be rational, as only Violet can be. If I liked the conversation I had to have with my daughter, I would have had it myself. Why do you think I asked you?”

VIOLET FOUND HER NIECE a little bit later, when Lily had finished the conversation. She pulled Amanda into a side room, ushered three of her younger brothers into the hall outside with promises of peppermints, and shut the door.

“I have a present for you,” Violet told her.

“Oh?”

Violet reached into her bag and pulled out a light blue scarf rolled into the semblance of a ball.