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About the author:
Violet counts writing among the many passions in her charmed life, second only to striving to make daydreaming her vocation. When she’s not exercising her quill, she oversees the management of her modest estate, complete with two furry footmen and one Lord. She prefers her tea unsweetened and embraces rainy days as inspiration.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“May I secure the next dance?” Lord Wellington extended his gloved hand. I looked down at it with disdain, noting a yellowed spot. Still, the cherry musical notes and golden candlelight bathed the evening in a drowsy glow that made even an aging lord twice my age tolerable. It would have been foolish to reject him, especially in front of other esteemed members of the peerage.
“I’m afraid I am not inclined to dance another round just now,” I said, fanning myself to cool my blood. I imagined the eyes of my mother, Lady Barringer, on me, scrutinizing every move. I turned on my heel towards the chairs lining the perimeter of the dance floor, leaving Lord Wellington without a partner and with slightly less dignity.
My mother drew near, fanning herself in quick motions. Feathers floated in front of her face, like the flight of a hummingbird. “Kitty, my dear, are you quite ill? Shall I summon a maid to attend to you upstairs in your bed-chambers?” Such concern, a little contrived, and it was all for the benefit of the other guests.
My gaze softened as Lord Brooks swept into the room with grace at odds with his large stature. He gave me a slight nod, then struck up a conversation with some of the other nobles.
My mother followed the direction of her eyes, a knowing smile on her lips. “I see it may just be the selection of dance partners that does not sit well with you. He is truly dashing. But he is not intended for you, my dear.”