Ava’s expression grew pinched. The woman had the sort of cool, elegant beauty that Violet had occasionally envied once upon a time. Even the rain had not deigned to make her curls drop or even budge from underneath a small red hat.
“I’m here to see Duke,” she stated. She peeled off matching red gloves one by one then handed them over to the butler without looking at either of them.
Violet lifted both brows. If Ava thought she was going to be entertained in a house in which she had never stepped foot in let alone acknowledged the residents of, she was mightily wrong. She had no doubt Ava was part of the crowd who enjoyed muttering things about the Musgraves too. She didn’t pay much heed to the words but that did not mean she needed to extend any courtesy to the purveyor of such words.
“Mr. Cameron is not receiving visitors, as Mr. Fraser stated.”
The butler glanced at the floor. “Forgive me, my lady, I—”
“I shall deal with Lady Belmont,” Violet offered. “Do return to your duties, Fraser.” She looked back to Ava. “You should return home before the weather worsens, Ava.”
She gave a brief smile. “Dukewillreceive me.”
Folding her arms, Violet shook her head and stepped closer. “If you wish to visit with Mr. Cameron you shall have to call at his property when he has returned home.”
The woman flicked her gaze up and down Violet and full lips stretched into a knowing smile. “I see. You wish to keep the competition away.”
Violet laughed but the sound trapped in her throat, sounding forced. “I have no desire to compete with you for Mr. Cameron’s attention if that is what you are implying.”
“I’ve seen you talking with him, pretending you are simply interested in his companionship.” Ava peered down her nose at her. “It is a clever game, but you know, Duke will never bed an innocent.”
A sharp breath seared Violet’s lungs. Thank the Lord her father was not around to hear this. “How dare you utter such things to me in my own house?” she managed to say through a tight throat.
Ava gave a slight shrug. “You are not his sort. He prefers women of sophistication, women of experience.”
“Married women?” Violet retorted. Ava had been wed all of a year to a man several decades older than her with a deep, deep pocketbook.
“Experienced women,” Ava corrected. “And I am certain he shall be pleased to see a little grace and elegance after so much time with...” She waved vaguely around the hallway, her hand finishing in a flourish in the direction of Violet. “This.”
Violet should have known they were inviting Duke’s fans to their doorstep. With him holed away in his bedroom and the ballroom dancefloor a memory away, she had forgotten what it was like to be competing against his lovers for his attention.
Her cheeks heated and her clothes were itchy against her skin. Ava was not necessarily wrong. Duke did not bed innocents. And he most certainly did not fall in love with women. The man flitted from lover to lover, and nothing would change that.
Even the increasing desire to kiss him again. Her romantic nature would inevitably turn it into something more and he would disappoint her sooner than the rest and their friendship would be over.
That did not mean, however, Violet would give Ava the satisfaction of seeing her realize that.
Chin lifted, Violet stepped close to the woman. She mimicked the stance she’d seen Lilly take every time she squared up to a horse that did not wish to be tamed. “Mr. Cameron is under my care and is not in a condition to see anyone so you would do well to leave before I have you thrown out.”
Ava smirked. “You would not dare.”
Violet moved closer still so they were almost toe-to-toe. She smelled the mint leaves on Ava’s breath and nausea rolled in her stomach at the understanding of why Ava might wish to freshen her breath.
“Do you want to stay and find out?” Violet said through clenched teeth.
Ava’s gaze flicked back and forth, searching Violet’s. A tremulous laugh escaped her. “You would not fling a Belmont out.”
Almost as though she were outside of her body, Violet watched her own finger rise then make deliberate contact with the lapel of Ava’s pelisse. She jabbed slowly, gently, once, then a little harder the second time when she did not fizzle away into dust after physical contact with such a vile woman. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.” She poked in time with her words, growing bolder with each movement.
The woman blinked several times, eyeing the finger before meeting Violet’s gaze.
“Get out.” Violet shifted back and waved both hands at her as though she were trying to startle the birds back into the bird cage. “Get out, get out, get out!”
Ava retreated a step, stumbling slightly, eyes wide. “You’re mad,” she uttered.
“Get out!”
“Utterly mad!” Ava retrieved her umbrella from the stand by the door and gave Violet once quick sweep with her gaze. “He definitely won’t want a madwoman.”