Free Haunting Violet by Alyxandra Harvey Page B

underwater. Mother sent me a glare, and Tabitha’s laughter trilled out, delicate as a mockingbird’s song.
    â€œI’m—” My voice was more of a croak. Why did Tabitha get to sound like a songbird while I imitated a toad? And was it entirely too late to crawl back into bed and refuse to come out?
    â€œI’m terribly sorry,” I finally managed to say as Xavier stood to wipe at his sticky shoulder with a napkin. Tabitha rose as well and all but purred.
    â€œOh, how dreadfully clumsy,” she said. “I would be simply mortified. I would just die. ” She smiled at Xavier. “Let me help you with that.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I whispered again before fleeing the room. I stopped in the empty hallway, pressing my back to the silk-papered wall. Embarrassed, I closed my eyes. At least the pounding in my head had been reduced to a dull ache.
    I wish Elizabeth had been there; it might have seemed a little funnier then. I’d probably laugh about it later. I’d laugh harder if I’d managed to smear jam in Tabitha’s ringlets. That, at least, would have been amusing and worth the mortification. When the same event involved the handsome young man who was tentatively courting you, it rather lost some of its humor. I’d never seen Mother’s eyes go so round. Lady Ashford’s forkful of jellied fruit had landed on her plate with a plop , and Frederic’s tea had shot straight out of his nose.
    It took me a moment to realize I was giggling. I pressed my fist to my mouth but the giggles wouldn’t be stifled. Tears sprung to my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. If there was a slight hysterical tint to my laughter, I decided not to notice. Laughing was still preferable to the panic, holding it at bay like an angry dog on a chain.
    â€œMiss Willoughby.”
    I was still chortling like a deranged goose. My eyes flew open.
    â€œMiss Willoughby, are you quite well?”
    I just laughed harder when I realized it was Lord Jasper himself standing there in front of me, with his white hair and his polished boots. He was smiling quizzically.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” I squeaked. “I ruined your … tablecloth … and …” I kept having to pause, trying to breathe properly. “And … Mr. Trethewey’s … frock coat!”
    For some reason it made me laugh even harder. Lord Jasper chuckled as I fought to regain my hopelessly lost demeanor. I wiped at my eyes.
    â€œIt can all be cleaned, I assure you,” he said. “And I’m delighted, I must say, to see you haven’t succumbed to a fit of the vapors and taken to your bed as many a young ninny has.”
    â€œThank you.” I’d always liked Lord Jasper. I liked him even more now. “I must have … tripped.”
    â€œHmmm.”
    â€œI’m very clumsy,” I assured him cheerfully. That, at least, was the truth.
    â€œYou needn’t protect Miss Wentworth,” he said dryly. “I saw the remarkable angle her elbow took as she jostled you.” He arched his brow, motioning for me to walk with him. The thump of his silver-tipped cane was soothing. “She’s had rather a hard time of it.”
    I remembered Rowena, her bloated face and the lilies in her hair. It was my turn to make a noncommittal noise. “Mm-hmm.”
    â€œDo be patient with her.” He turned a corner and stopped a few doors down the hall. “I thought you might enjoy the library.”
    I couldn’t stop the appreciative gasp. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves, crammed with books of all sizes. He smiled indulgently.
    â€œI knew I sensed in you a fellow bibliophile.”
    â€œMother doesn’t like me to read as much as I do,” I remarked with a sigh.
    He winked. “Then we shan’t tell her, shall we? It will be our secret. Feel free to borrow any of these volumes during your stay at