Free Dilemma in Yellow Silk by Lynne Connolly

usually had them in storage when the family were not in residence.
    “So his lordship left in good order?”
    “Yes, Miss Gates, he did.”
    “Back to normal then,” she said, swinging her bag as she left the house.
    She could probably walk back to her house blindfolded, but she decided to enjoy the day. Until a voice hailed her. “Viola!”
    Spinning around, she nearly stumbled when her skirts tangled around her legs. “Marcus?”
    He was close enough to speed up and catch her, but he put her on her feet as soon as her skirts settled. “You’re up early. I was looking forward to sharing breakfast with you.”
    “I thought you left with your father.” She blinked, not sure he was really there. She’d set her mind to her normal life, and seeing him again had thrown her senses. When he’d steadied her, the brief touch of his hands had sent her senses spinning.
    “I decided to stay behind. The Stewarts cannot visit me when I’m alone in the house, can they?”
    “I thought you quite taken by Emma.”
    He laughed. “No, you did not. You knew what a bore she was. Oh, she’s pretty, and she’ll do well, but I desire more than looks in a wife. And that mother of hers… I have no wish to saddle myself with such a creature.”
    “You should not speak so of her. She means well.”
    “No, she does not. At least she doesn’t where it concerns you.” His voice lowered. “I need to speak with your father. My father gave me some information last night that I’m eager to discuss with him. Do you mind if I walk along with you?”
    She glanced down at him. He was dressed for riding. “Will those boots take to walking?”
    “Yes, of course. What, you thought I was the kind of coxcomb who had boots for different occasions? Sometimes when I ride I like to get off my horse and stroll apace. How could I do that with boots I could not walk in?”
    He fell in by her side, although thankfully he did not offer her his arm. But he did take her bag. She knew better than to argue.
    They enjoyed their walk, chatting about the countryside and the estate and their neighbors. Nothing of consequence. But oh, she’d miss him, if only as a friend. At one point she said, “Shall I write to you?” Then unaccustomed shyness seized her. “No, no, I should not.”
    “I would like that, but I will return next month.”
    “With a houseful of guests.” Who would keep him busy.
    “Indeed, but I will make some time for you.”
    “You don’t have to.” Looking anywhere but at him, she lengthened her stride.
    * * * *
    Since Viola was pointedly avoiding his gaze, Marcus had an opportunity to study her. Now his father had let him into her secret, he could see the resemblance to the disgraced royal family plainly.
    According to the marquess, Viola spent little time worrying about it, instead preferring to believe it was a falsehood. Indeed, everyone had believed it a falsehood until recently. Yet another political lie put out by the enemies of the King to try to dislodge him from his throne.
    Slightly taller than the average female, Viola was built on slender lines, which also fit with his information. Her black hair was darker than others he’d seen, but his cousin Tony’s wife resembled her more than somewhat.
    How would Viola feel when he told her the legend was real? Once he had confirmed the details from her father and acquired his permission, he had every intention of telling her. She should know; she had every right.
    But for this brief twenty minutes they had peace and companionship. He longed to make it half an hour and stop to kiss her, but he had no idea how she would take it. Their kiss should never have happened, but now it had, he wanted more.
    He could not make her his mistress. Would she even consider the position of wife? She was uncomfortable in society, not herself. He would not be the leash around her neck, holding her back when she wanted to run free.
    His parents would be bitterly disappointed if he threw himself