Read Violet (Flower Trilogy) for Free Online Page A

Hilda said, watching out the window. ‘‘Do you not think it’s time to take in these refreshments?’’ She shoved a steaming pitcher into Ford’s hands and, taking the tray of biscuits, hurried out of the kitchen before her husband could make his way in.
    Hilda came up to Ford’s shoulder and seemed as wide as she was tall. Obediently carrying the hot beverage she had prepared, he followed her ample behind down the corridor to the drawing room. They stepped inside to see Violet Ashcroft on her hands and knees, her backside jutting into the air.
    A very nice backside, Ford observed, most especially compared to his housekeeper’s. He could tell that, even through her layers of petticoats and sturdy, serviceable skirts. Not frilly at all. A fitting gown for The Practical One.
    Her brother was under the low, square table that sat before the couch. ‘‘Rowan,’’ she said. ‘‘You come out here this minute.’’
    ‘‘No.’’ The boy crossed his arms, not a simple feat given he was lying on his belly. ‘‘Not until she leaves.’’
    Rowan pronounced ‘‘she’’ much like Jewel had pronounced ‘‘boy’’ yesterday in the garden.
    ‘‘C’mon, Rowan,’’ Jewel cooed, getting down on her knees herself. ‘‘Come out and play. I’ve always wanted to play with a boy.’’
    Considering she had two brothers at home, Ford had to choke back laughter. And Jewel wasn’t pronouncing ‘‘boy’’ that way now.
    His niece was clearly in love.
    And Rowan was having none of it.
    ‘‘We’ve brought biscuits,’’ Ford declared, announcing his presence. Lady Violet gave a little embarrassed squeal and jumped to her feet. Her pinkened cheeks matched his faded upholstery.
    ‘‘Biscuits?’’ Rowan asked. ‘‘What kind?’’
    The way to a Chase male was through his stomach, and Ford was gratified to see Rowan was no different.
    ‘‘Cinnamon,’’ he said.
    ‘‘I’m still not coming out,’’ Rowan said.
    ‘‘Would you like a drink of chocolate?’’ Hilda coaxed, taking the warm pitcher from Ford’s hands.
    ‘‘Chocolate?’’ The boy inched forward. ‘‘Real chocolate?’’
    ‘‘He cannot have it,’’ his sister said firmly. ‘‘Chocolate gives him hives.’’
    Rowan crawled closer and bumped his head on the apron of the table. ‘‘Ah, Violet . . .’’
    She reached to grab him by the wrist. ‘‘Got you, you little monster.’’ She dragged him out. ‘‘Now, I cannot blame you for being intimidated, but you must mind your manners. Guests do not hide under tables.’’
    ‘‘I want to go home.’’
    ‘‘Guests do not say things like that, either. It’s very rude.’’
    Jewel rose and brushed off the mint green skirts that Ford had spent half an hour struggling her into.
    He was really much better at removing female clothing than putting it on.
    ‘‘Here.’’ She handed Rowan a biscuit, and he reluctantly climbed to his feet. ‘‘Eat this, and then I will show you Uncle Ford’s laboratory.’’
    ‘‘No you won’t,’’ Ford said. Not again. He’d taken her in there yesterday afternoon, hoping she’d sit quietly while he worked. Ten minutes later he’d hauled her out—thankfully before she’d managed to destroy the place.
    ‘‘Please, Uncle Ford?’’
    ‘‘No.’’
    ‘‘Puleeeeeze?’’ The look in Jewel’s green eyes bordered on pathetic. Chase eyes, like his twin sister’s.
    Just what he needed . . . another Chase woman who could wrap him around her little finger.
    Apparently she realized her feminine wiles were working, because she turned her lavish charm on Rowan. ‘‘You must stay,’’ she told him. ‘‘Uncle Ford has magnets, and bottles of smelly stuff, and a pen-pen—’’
    ‘‘Pendulum,’’ Ford supplied, remembering too late that she didn’t like to be helped.
    But she was so intent on convincing Rowan, she failed to take notice. ‘‘Yes, a pen-du-lum. And lots of clocks and a telescope. That’s a thing to see