The Countess Conspiracy (Brothers Sinister #3)(69)

“That was a kiss.” Violet brought up her chin. “If you couldn’t tell—”

“No. I mean, what happened there? I thought earlier you wanted more, but then you ran away, and I assumed I’d misjudged.”

What was she to say? That her brain had got into a fight with her heart, and her heart had triumphed?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she told him. “I smelled. I had to take a bath. That’s all.”

He smiled as if he could see right through her. “Violet.” He leaned in. “For future reference, I don’t give a damn how you smell.”

“Well, I do.” She folded her arms and stared at a corner of the opposite room. “And for future reference, my heart is an ass.”

He stared at her. “I see. It carries heavy burdens long distances.” He leaned in to kiss her again.

“That’s not what I meant,” she protested. Now that she’d stopped kissing him, the reasons for not doing so spilled back in. But she couldn’t take back that kiss; it had become his. “This is never going to work. Think about it, Sebastian. I can’t have intercourse, and you love it.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. He simply held her hand, rubbing up and down her thumb, as if he could wash away all her fears with that gentle motion.

And maybe he could, because as he touched her, she felt them begin to dissipate.

“I could argue with you,” he finally said. “But I won’t. Just watch, Violet, and you’ll see what we can do. It’ll be easier than you’re imagining.”

IN THE END, Sebastian was right.

It was easy for Violet to go back into the main room. It was easy to tell her friends what she’d been doing, what she wanted. It was easy to let Minnie take control of what needed to happen with the air of a general taking over a battle plan.

It was easy to make a list, to populate it with items like Arrange for a lecture and Tell my mother, to pretend that sheet of paper was a list of items to be purchased. It was easy to be herself, to laugh, to no longer tell lies.

It was easy, and that was what made her nervous.

Because she knew that it would not stay easy.

Chapter Eighteen

“OH, THANK GOD,” LILY SAID, breezing into the room where Violet sat. “I don’t know how you do it. You always know when I need you.”

Violet sat in her seat and blinked. Lily insinuated herself on the sofa next to her, so close that their skirts touched. She reached out and took Violet’s hand.

“Violet, dear,” Lily said, “I am in the direst of straits. You know Amanda no longer listens to me. We’ve spent the last days screaming at one another—screaming, I tell you! She was such a good child until this last year. I don’t know what happened. Tell me you’ll talk to her.”

Lily looked so innocent, so sweet. Violet almost wanted to agree. To avoid the reason she’d come in the first place. But…well…

“It’s that horrid book,” Lily confided. “I didn’t get it from her soon enough. She doesn’t just want to refuse the earl who is planning to offer for her; she wants to not marry at all.”

She could keep quiet. But whether Lily loved Violet or merely found her sister conveniently useful, Violet loved her sister. And sisters did not surprise one another with shocking public announcements.

“I didn’t come here to talk about Amanda,” Violet said.

Lily blinked and looked taken aback. “Well.” Her lips pursed. “Maybe not. But I’m sure that whatever brought you here can be set aside momentarily, while I—”

“It can’t,” Violet interrupted. “I’m about to plunge the family into the most intense scandal you can possibly imagine.”

Lily blanched and pulled back. “Malheur,” she breathed. She wrung her hands together. “Oh, God, I knew this would happen. I should have been more outspoken.” She let go of Violet’s hand. “He seduced you. You’ve been caught in flagrante delicto.”

Violet swallowed. “That would be commonplace. This is worse.” Her heart was beginning to beat faster.

Lily’s eyes widened. “How could there be anything worse?”

Violet swallowed. “You know the work he has done on the inheritance of traits?”

Her sister’s lip curled. “I try not to know anything about it. What has that to do with anything?”

“It’s not his,” Violet said.

Lily frowned and shifted in her seat.

“It’s not his work,” Violet repeated. “It’s mostly mine. And I’m finally going to claim it publicly.” She released those words and held her breath.

Maybe she’d hoped that Lily’s eyes would soften. That she’d let out a little squeal of delight. That she’d clasp Violet to her and say, “Oh, dear Violet, how clever you have been.”

She’d secretly hoped that Lily would pull her close. She’d hoped that so deeply that even she hadn’t known how much she wanted it—not until that moment, when the cold fingers of disappointment closed around her heart.

Because Lily did none of those things. Instead, she stared at Violet as if she’d announced that she was publishing a book on the cooking of babies.

“Ha, ha,” her sister finally said mirthlessly. “Ha. What a fine joke that is, Violet darling. I almost believed you.”