As it turned out, Josephine sat in wait for Violet in the latter's bedroom, dressed for bed and watching Fanny ready Violet's night dress and straighten her room. When Violet entered, she couldn't keep an excited grin from her face, and Josephine tilted her head at her sister, suspecting something had happened.
"There you are, Pheenie. I looked in your bedroom first," Violet said, flicking her eyes at Fanny and sounding as flustered as Josephine had ever heard.
"Letty…" Josephine slowly swung her legs off the chaise and planted her feet on the floor, leaning forward with her hands on either side of her on the blue upholstery.
Violet gave her sister a slight shake of the head, her eyes darting to Fanny again. Making her way toward the maid to be undressed, Violet bent her head to kiss Josephine's cheek, murmuring, "Pas devant les domestiques," in her ear. She placed the small box containing Patrick's gift on her dressing table without comment, hoping her sister would leave it for later.
Josephine's brows rose as she watched Fanny take Violet's gloves and fan from her to put away before beginning to unhook the multitude of tiny fastenings on the back of her dress. It had to be something quite momentous for Violet to be unwilling to discuss it in front of their maid. Clearing her throat, Josephine said, "Well, I have something to tell you anyway."
Her eyes snapping up to meet her sister's, hearing the underlying excitement in her voice, Violet beheld Josephine's sudden blush and wide smile. "No… Pheenie, did he -?"
An emphatic nod met Violet's inquiry, and, as Josephine stood, Fanny squeaked in protest, Violet having launched herself at her sister. Embracing her closely, Josephine kept nodding. "I knew he would at some point, but until he asked me…. Oh, little love, I'm so happy."
"And I'm so happy for you, dearest." Violet drew back, stepping away to take her sister's hand and examine her engagement ring. "But this means you'll be leaving me."
Josephine chuckled. "Not for many months. Geoff and I thought perhaps November for the wedding."
As the pair chatted about the proposal and wedding plans and the evening in general, Fanny going about her duties while they did, Violet's mind kept wandering to Patrick – their kisses, his touch upon her face and nape of her neck, their fingers entwined, his lips on her throat, his murmured endearments – and she had trouble keeping cool, warmth suffusing her face and down over her chest. Fanny, fortunately, said nothing, probably attributing her younger mistress' flush to the exhilaration of the evening. But Violet knew Josephine simply bided her time until the maid would be sent away in order to pounce.
And pounce she did; as soon as Fanny shut the door behind her, her arms laden with petticoats and other linens, Josephine sidled up behind Violet's chair and slid her arms around her neck from behind. Resting her chin on Violet's auburn head, she stared at her in the mirror. "So?"
Violet lifted her eyes to Josephine's and grinned, her face aflame. "I'm not certain where to begin, actually."
"Letty! Tell me everything!" She came around to the side and tugged on Violet's hands, pulling her up and to the chaise so they could sit facing one another.
Starting with the first kiss of the evening from Lord Robertson, Violet told her sister everything. Josephine's face transformed from surprise to disappointment and into pure elation. But then, after Violet brought over the brooch for her to see, a crease appeared upon her brow.
Setting the box next to her, she asked, "But, Violet, won't he get jealous? Or – might you get jealous? If you're still seeing your suitors, and he's seeing those young ladies?"
She took Josephine's left hand in hers and brushed her fingers over it, her eyes fixed on the engagement ring. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about that."
"Are you going to let the others kiss you?"
"I – don't want to. Not after Patrick –" She stopped and turned crimson. "But we have to keep up the pretense, don't we? Lord Robertson already asked me about Patrick, remember? And that was before any of this…." She sighed heavily.
"Oh, Letty." Josephine pulled her sister into a hug, Violet's head upon her shoulder, and stroked a hand over her hair.
"Despite what I said to Patrick, about our not being suited to one another –" She paused, shaking her head. "I care for him, Pheenie," she whispered. "I want to see what happens. But I can't unless we can keep it hidden from Mama and Papa – and especially from his parents."
"So you went from insisting you two were 'only friends' to this in the course of a few hours?" Josephine let out a low chuckle. "That must have been one incredible kiss."
"Pheenie!" Violet exclaimed, but giggled, giving her middle a teasing squeeze.
"Pardon me," she said. "Two incredible kisses."
Violet giggled again. "They were. I don't even know how to describe it."
Josephine dropped a kiss on her sister's head. "There's always an element of that at the core of the best ones."
Tilting her head up so she could look at Josephine, she asked her in a serious, low voice, "You won't tell anyone, will you? Not even Geoff?"
"No." She kept stroking Violet's hair and shook her head solemnly. "Not even Geoff. And I'll help you keep your secret if I can."
Violet nuzzled her head into her sister's neck, sighing contentedly. "I love you, Pheenie." She paused before adding, "You were right."
Josephine laughed lightly – though she didn't take this admission of Violet's lightly. "About what, pray tell, Letty?"
"Patrick."
Her nearly inaudible breathing of his name over her clavicle made Josephine's heart leap for the pair. "You don't know how happy I am to be right about such a thing, dearest."
Violet didn't answer, but nestled more securely against her sister – thankful to have her and pushing away the thought that, before the year was out, her dearest companion would be married and living elsewhere.
Because if she thought about it too much, she knew she'd be unable to bear it.
Within seconds of waking, a wide grin curled upon Patrick's face. Violet, he thought, feeling that even his heart beat her name against the inside of his chest.
Sunlight reached into the room, having climbed farther up the walls than Patrick was used to seeing when he woke. But he'd had a difficult time getting to sleep the night before. His mind wouldn't turn off, and he'd simply ridden the waves of its fancy until exhaustion finally claimed him for its own.
He wondered if she'd slept well. He wondered if she'd told anyone what had happened. He wondered when her note would arrive – and what it would say.
He wondered if his father would notice if he skipped breakfast.
Patrick decided he didn't care. Getting up, he rang for his valet, wondering why Masters hadn't arrived earlier. He rubbed his eyes and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out the few notes from Violet, even the sight of her handwriting making him smile.
At the sound of his door opening, he shoved the messages into the drawer, shutting it hastily.
"Pardon, Lord Downton," Masters said with a bow of the head. "I attempted to wake you earlier, but it was to no avail." His deep voice rolled across the room. Then he held out an envelope. "This came a few moments ago, my lord."
Keeping himself from bounding across the room, Patrick nonetheless hurried to the valet and took the envelope from him. The handwriting alone was enough to tell him it was from Violet.
"Might you prepare a bath, Masters?"
The valet coughed genteely. "Breakfast is –"
Patrick shook his head as he interrupted, his eyes still fastened upon the envelope. "No, no. I don't mean to eat breakfast today. The bath, please."
Masters inclined his head. "Of course, your lordship."
Making sure Masters had gone to prepare the bath, Patrick grabbed his letter opener and attacked the seal upon the envelope. As he read, he grinned wider, his eyes shining.
My dear – yes, I write it most deliberately this way – Patrick,
I think that you could visit Finley House this morning – or early afternoon. I have no engagements, although Mama and Papa do. Josephine is here for the morning, but – oh, Patrick, I hope you don't mind, but I had to tell her. She'll keep our secret. And she'll help us. She would never betray us. Please don't be upset with me for telling her….
And please come see me today. I couldn't sleep last night, for I couldn't stop thinking of you.
Yours in affection,
Violet
Patrick dashed off a note to let her know he'd call at mid-morning and, once Masters returned to tell him the bath was ready, entrusted the message to his valet to give to Collins the butler while he had a long soak.
After Masters helped him dress, Patrick stole down the stairs and to the front door, hoping that his parents busied themselves elsewhere so he wouldn't be stopped. Letting out a sigh of relief, he whistled as he walked down the pavement to Finley House.
Violet tried to sit on the settee and pay attention to her book, tried not to act like a giddy girl waiting for her paramour. She tried and failed, looking up at the doorway every two minutes and fidgeting. It wouldn't do to run continually to the door; she didn't want even the servants to suspect their… arrangement? Violet furrowed her brow as she thought about what to call it. "Courtship" sounded too formal – although she supposed that's what it was –
"The Viscount Downton, Miss Violet," came Rutledge's announcement from the doorway. He stepped aside to let a grinning Patrick into the room.
Her own grin reflected his, and her cheeks grew even pinker than they'd been before. As Patrick approached her, she said, "How pleasant to see you, Lord Downton."
"I wanted to make sure you didn't wear through the soles of your pretty slippers from the dancing last night, Miss Barton," he replied, watching her eyes follow Rutledge from the room. Once her gaze had returned to his face, he took her hand and whispered, "May I kiss you, Violet?"
"Not here, Patrick." The blush now reached under the collar of her dress and to the edges of her ears. "Someone could see." Seeing him nod and the corners of his mouth droop, and hearing his somewhat disappointed sigh, Violet pressed his hand. "But we can take a walk in the gardens."
At this, his expression cleared, and he laced their fingers together before lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.
"Patrick," she admonished softly, tugging her fingers from between his. "In a moment." Lowering her lashes and smiling, she stepped around him so he would follow her from the room and out into the garden.
Once they'd gotten to a relatively secluded portion – high hedges and hidden turns – Violet looked behind her and extended her hand back for him to take, smiling. As their fingers intertwined again, she laughed and picked up her pace, leading him to an even more sheltered nook.
Just as she turned around to him, Patrick sealed his lips to hers, resting his free hand on her neck and grazing his thumb on the underside of her jaw tenderly. Stepping closer, Violet slid her arm around his neck, pulling him closer and encouraging him to kiss her harder. And for several breathtaking minutes, the pair stood entwined this way, Violet's fingers traveling up into his dark hair and he letting go of her hand only to steal his arm about her waist, fingertips bearing into the small of her back.
When she sighed his name upon his lips, it sent an especially heady thrill through him, from head to toe. Patrick's lips trailed down and back over her throat to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. As she gasped in surprise at the incredible sensation this stirred up in her, he wrapped his other arm around her middle and lifted her up against him, picking her up off her feet.
"Patrick!" she shrieked in astonishment before laughing and twining her arms tighter about his neck.
"Ouch, Violet!" He chuckled, drawing his head away. "You'll have me deaf within a week if you keep responding like that." He smirked at her and held her firmly in his embrace, her feet dangling just above his own.
"I do apologize. I wouldn't want that." She grinned back at him, combing gentle fingers through his hair. After the initial shock, Violet found herself even more astounded to realize that it felt the most natural thing in the world to be pressed up against Patrick thus – natural, and yet exceedingly exciting.
Bending his head forward, Patrick nibbled along Violet's throat, loving when she tilted her head back and sighed happily. "I've been wanting to kiss you like this for so long," he whispered into her skin.
"We kissed last night, Patrick," she pointed out mildly. "Although I'll admit that one reason I couldn't sleep was thinking how much I wanted you to kiss me again." Another blush bloomed on her cheeks.
Pulling back to look at her, he shook his head a trifle, holding her gaze and smiling tenderly. "No, that's not what I meant. Of course, it's true…." He gave her another light kiss upon the lips, then met her eyes again. "But I've wanted to kiss you for years, my sweet Violet. I never got up the courage; I knew you wouldn't want me to."
Violet contemplated him silently for a moment, their eyes on the same level, still save for her fingers continuing to play with his hair. Then she said, "I want you to now." She leaned her head forward until her forehead pressed against his, and she closed her eyes. "Kiss me," she whispered.
In answer, Patrick rubbed his lips gently over hers, relishing how soft they were, then parted them with his own, kissing her in earnest, lost completely within the act. And when she let out an almost imperceptible moan, he responded by breathing "Violet" into her mouth.
After a satisfying interval, Violet smiled at him. "Your arms must be hurting."
"No, not a bit. But if you'd rather I put you down, I will." He ran a hand over her side.
"I thought we could talk. It might be easier if we sat together." Her fingers kept threading through his dark hair.
"Anything you wish, darling."
Smiling, he set her down carefully and withdrew his arms. Patrick took her by the hand and sat down with her on a nearby bench.
"I have some news to tell you," she said, grinning. Wringing his hand lightly, she told him about Josephine's engagement, and how they had discussed a possible November wedding. Then, thinking about the rest of her conversation with her sister, she cast her eyes down, her brow puckering slightly. "I wrote to you that I told Josephine," she started in a low voice.
"Yes. There's nothing wrong with that. It seems perfectly natural you should tell her, Violet." His eyebrows drew together in concern, knowing something must be upsetting her.
She didn't lift her head. "Pheenie brought my attention to a few things, Patrick. About our agreement."
"What things?" he asked, shaking his head in confusion.
Slowly, she raised her head to fix her eyes to his. "We're supposed to play the game; those were your words. So we don't rouse suspicion."
"Right…." He tilted his head at her, no less bewildered.
"Well," she continued, taking a deep breath to steel herself, "won't you get jealous?"
As her question sank in, he blinked at her, unsure how to answer.
In the meantime, she lowered her lashes again, a crimson flush spreading over her face and neck. "It's just that I know it will be difficult for me to see you with the others. Even though I know you don't care for them." She brushed feather-light touches over the backs of his fingers.
"It – it will?" Patrick stuttered out, his brown eyes wide.
Her head snapped up, and she squeezed his hand between her two as blue flames flared in her eyes. "Do you think I will enjoy having to see you pretend to be interested in their charms? To watch those insipid creatures flirt with you?"
Her annoyance made him shake his head. "No, but – Violet, I wasn't implying that you would. It simply took me aback to hear you admit for the first time that you might get jealous."
"Well, I will. If we do this well enough, no one should suspect that you have any feelings for me whatsoever besides friendship. But that means you have to look as if you find them interesting. Especially Miss Whitlock." She'd averted her eyes and now began chewing on her bottom lip. Then, before he could reply, she added in irritation, "Really, Patrick, don't you think this means something to me? To risk our parents' disapproval?"
"Please, my dear, don't get upset." He enclosed her hand within his and brought it to his lips. "And if it will be difficult for you to see me with those women, it will be ten times as difficult for me to see you with those men. To see them touch your hand or dance with you, that they should make you laugh or earn one of your beautiful smiles…. Violet, I've already been jealous of them. Perhaps it will be easier, knowing I get to see you in secret at least, to be the only one to kiss you."
Patrick's smile faded somewhat when he realized that Violet had looked away again, her eyes nearly closed, and gnawed on her lip with a vengeance. He gaped at her.
"Why do you look like that?" he inquired, unsure he wanted to know the answer.
She drew away from him, pulling her hand from his and wrapping her arms loosely about her waist.
"Violet? Please tell me what's wrong. I'll try to control my jealously –"
"It's not that," Violet interjected, shaking her head and letting out a profound sigh. She wondered if she should tell him about Lord Robertson. "I – I may have to kiss someone else." She found herself unable to look at his face.
Patrick started back a little. "But, why?" He could feel a flame of jealousy and anger – and, yes, fear – uncurl within his abdomen. "Do you want to kiss someone else?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"No," Violet said with an emphatic shake of her head, dislodging a few of the looser curls from her coiffure. She turned toward him, sliding her hand into his once more. "No. I don't. But, Patrick, I might have to. To keep up the façade."
The flame leapt up into his chest, burning his lungs; he could scarcely draw breath. "Violet, you never have to kiss anyone you don't want to; there's no reason for that, even in all this business of courting and suitors. A kiss is a prized favor, not something necessarily expected. At least, it shouldn't be if the suitor is honorable."
She could see she was going to have to tell him. She couldn't have him find out another way. Violet felt ashamed, even if she knew she shouldn't; Lord Robertson had kissed her before she and Patrick had come to their understanding. Patrick would have to accept it. Squaring her shoulders, she looked him in the eye and told him. "Lord Robertson already kissed me."
Hardly knowing what he was doing, the flame licking as far as his esophagus now, filling him with fire, he bounded up from the bench and stood to face her, his eyes alive with the sparks. "When?"
"What does it matter when?" she asked in an indignant voice, an edge of hurt in her tone. "Are you accusing me of letting him kiss me after you did?"
Her words – and the underlying hurt – doused the flames that had risen up in him. Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, wondering how things had spiraled downward so quickly. Removing his hand from his face, he knelt down in front of Violet and rested a hand on either side of her on the bench, seeing as how she'd crossed her arms tightly over her chest, still half-scowling at him. "Darling, I'm sorry. I would never accuse you of that."
Keeping her arms crossed, Violet set her jaw stubbornly. "It was before you kissed me. And that's all that matters. Can you say you haven't kissed any of those young ladies before?"
"No," he admitted quietly, flinching at her "I thought not" expression. "But, Violet, I still don't see how you would have to kiss anyone you don't want to. I'm –" He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I apologize. I know I have no exclusive claim to you. You said you would give me a chance, nothing more." He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "I suppose I should recognize that, apart from the furtive nature of our courtship, I'm no different from the rest. And if you want to let them kiss you – then I won't stop you. I won't like it; but I won't stop you."
As she listened, Violet's arms loosened, and her face softened, her hands eventually resting palms up on her lap. She swallowed, unable to say anything.
"And I want you to know that I won't kiss anyone else." He slipped his hands into hers, his heart giving a leap when her fingers curled around them, clasping them tightly. "I don't want to. Now that I get to kiss you, nothing else can ever compare. You're the only one I want to kiss, Violet."
Violet nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're the only one I want to kiss, Patrick. And you are different from the rest." Leaning forward, she put her lips close to his ear and whispered, "Lord Robertson's kiss left me wondering what the fuss was all about. But now I know." She pressed a small kiss to his skin, on his jaw just in front of his ear, making Patrick's eyes close and breath catch.
Getting up, Patrick sat next to her again, his hands still enclosed in hers. "We'll just have to do our best not to get jealous about the rest, right?" He gently extracted one of his hands and twisted one of her loosened red curls around his fingers and smiled at her.
"Right." Violet sidled closer. "We still have time before luncheon, Patrick. What would you like to do?"
"I'll do anything you desire, sweetheart." He loved how her hair felt upon his fingers and longed to be able to bury his hands in it, to know how it felt for it to fall across his face in a shimmering, fragrant, auburn curtain.
"Might you kiss me again?" She blushed, even appeared somewhat sheepish for asking.
Patrick nodded, grinning, before bending his head to kiss Violet once more.
