3. Chapter Three

Kairos

Chapter Three

A male correspondence was a thing that Miss Violet Clympton had never known and found increasingly diverting as the week of the Viscount's absence progressed. She had many female friends with whom she had enjoyed a regular written intimacy and was as good a correspondent as might be wished for, but Lord Bridgerton had a style that she found difficult to describe.

His first three letters had arrived each morning with an impressive regularity. They had all followed a similar pattern - short, cheerful notes giving her tidbits about his life and how he passed his time. Then the fourth letter had come the next day and so bemused her that she had needed to visit Katherine and ascertain her opinion about whether he was in earnest.

Dear Miss Clympton, (it had begun)

I have found myself struck by an anxiety over the past twenty-hour hours as to whether I have taken too great a liberty in requesting to be your correspondent. With only a few days acquaintance, I cannot help wondering whether the tittering Mamas of the Ton might consider our exchanging letters too forward a gesture?

I spent an enjoyable day hunting in the northern woods of the Aubrey Hall estate today and have unfortunately returned to find my mother rather unwell. I wish to assure you of my own good health and conclude that I may not be able to write again before my return, given the current state of my mother's health.

I hope that your family are all in good health and wish you a very enjoyable week,

With best wishes,

Lord Bridgerton.

Katherine herself had been struck and confused by this strange epistle. She had re-read it several times and even spoken of consulting her brother's opinion (until Violet had begged that she would not).

"Why would he post such a letter?" Violet asked, "Unless he means to make me feel thoroughly uncomfortable and as though he does not wish to have my acquaintance. Why propose such a scheme if he has grown to regret it?"

"Why would he post such a letter?" Katherine asked, reading it again as though looking for clues about the Viscount's intentions on the paper. "I'm sorry Vi, but I am utterly bewildered. This is entirely unlike the Viscount."

"Do you think his mother might have been offended by the suddenness of our acquaintance and suggested he withdraw his attentions?" she suggested.

Her friend considered, "I have heard that the former Viscountess is very protective of her sons. Both she and her husband remarried after childless first marriages. I understand that she was nearly forty when she had the Viscount. I suppose that that might make her overprotective of her son?"

"Maybe he regrets his actions and is no longer interested," Violet said quietly, "It was a very sudden acquaintance …"

"My dear Violet, anyone who has seen the Viscount and you together cannot doubt the depth of his feelings. Timothy has told me that Lord Bridgerton has not stopped speaking of you since your first meeting. No, I believe this must be a mixture of pressure from his mother and a fear that he might have frightened you with his eagerness to become acquainted."

Miss Clympton nodded, "I must phrase my reply very carefully then, I suppose."

Her friend agreed, "We will write it together."

In the end, both girls wrote a letter that neither were entirely happy with, but it continued in the same light tone that Violet had been previously adopting. It was as follows:

Dear Lord Bridgerton,

I hope that you have not given into the "terror of the Ton" as my dear Aunt Wethering once put it and am not now affeered to correspond? If you would like our correspondence to end, I would understand, but hope that we might renew it when you return to town on the same comfortable footing upon which it started.

I am very sorry to hear of your mother's sudden illness and hope that she will soon be fully recovered. My mother always sends for our physician when she or my brothers are unwell (myself and my father never are). Mother says that my Grandmama used to say that "There was nothing like a broth for calming stomachs and ill humours". Our physician Willis is always referring to "balancing the humours", though I cannot say that I understand a word he says in ten!

All joking aside, I wish your mother a quick recovery and hope you yourself stay in good health.

I hope you have a pleasant rest of week,

Yours very sincerely,

Miss Clympton.

PS. I cannot end without thoroughly recommending that you attend the Royal Shakespeare Company's latest offering, it is the most spell-binding production of King Lear I have ever seen. The main actor, a very talent man named Roger Frost, had me positively sobbing when his poor fool died.

Without wanting to consider it further, Violet sealed up the letter and sent it away. She then made a wise resolution to wipe the Viscount from her mind and enjoy the joys of the season.

To a point, she did succeed. She spent an enjoyable morning at the Modiste's with Cordelia, laughing her way through a picnic with Timothy and Katherine and even visited a renowned tea emporium with Mr Briggs (who spent the entire afternoon making her laugh). But unhelpfully, she kept finding her mind drifting to the absent Viscount, even when she wished it not too.

Timothy had been regaling herself and Katherine with tales of his latest fencing match and had made them both laugh at his descriptions of "proper fencing etiquette" which according to his opponent had included three separate bows of varying styles. It had got to the point where their match had been vastly shortened due to the delay and Monsieur Le Count (visiting from Paris) had been most seriously displeased that they did not even finish a single bout in the allotted time. He had then mentioned that "Bridgerton would have begun the bout regardless of his opponent's readiness," and went into a lengthy explanation of the Viscount's competitiveness, which, while amusing also made her think of him.

She had received no fifth letter and did not know whether to feel relieved or saddened by this. Her mother had not pressed her about this but had watched her daughter's distraction as the days progressed with growing worry.

"When is the Viscount returning, my love?" Lady Clympton had enquired on the morning of the Pembleton's Ball.

"I'm not certain," Violet replied, suddenly seeming very interested in her sewing. "Though he did mention going to Kew Gardens with the Andrews on Thursday, so I imagine before then."

"Yes, you did mention that excursion last week, has a time been fixed upon? I know that your Father wishes to rearrange some appointments so that he might be free to attend."

"I believe a picnic lunch was spoken of. The Andrews and I fixed upon meeting there at 11 o'clock and then lunching by the Thames."

"What a lovely idea, I shall inform Mrs Richards." Violet nodded.

Peace reigned for few minutes before the doorbell was heard. Both ladies were surprised.

"Who could that be?" Lady Clympton wondered out loud.

Her curiosity was answered the next moment by Crook announcing a "Mr William Lewis and Lord Paisley". Utterly bemused, both ladies arose and greeted their guests. Lord Paisley they knew from his courting of Cordelia. Mr Lewis, however, was a stranger to them both and a mystery.

"Lord Paisley, Mr Lewis, such a pleasure to receive you both, please do be seated," Lady Clympton greeted them.

Lord Paisley had been considered something of a rake in previous seasons but seemed to have "straightened out" somewhat this year. He was an undoubtedly handsome man though with a touch too much awareness of it for Violet's taste.

He addressed her mother warmly, "Thank you for receiving us, Lady Clympton. May I have the honour of introducing my good friend, Mr Lewis."

All rose to bow and curtsey before they sat down again, and the young men were offered tea and a plate of biscuits. Mr Lewis seemed a particular fan of these and took four.

"We had the pleasure of seeing you at the theatre on Friday, did you enjoy the performance?" Violet's mother asked.

"Very much so, Lady Clympton, I found Mr Frost's performance particularly excellent."

"My daughter will be pleased to hear another say that; she was warm in his praise."

Lord Paisley seemed delighted to have an ally in his appreciation of the actor, "Did you think so as well, Miss Clympton?"

Violet smiled, "I did indeed, my lord. I have seen King Lear acted badly far too many times."

This then began a discussion of various theatrical performances that they had seen over the years and Violet was delighted to find another lover of Shakespeare in her companion. They would no doubt have gone on for a good deal longer if her mother had not asked Mr Lewis (whilst looking pointedly at her daughter) whether he had enjoyed the performance.

Mr Lewis smiled faintly, and Violet could not help thinking that he reminded her of someone, though she could not think who. "It was an excellent production," he replied, "Though I know very little of such things, I am more a scientist myself."

"Did Miss Wethering enjoy the play?" Lord Paisley asked. Violet hid a smile, starting to deduce their true motive for coming.

"Why are you not in her father's parlour asking her yourself, my lord?" she enquired.

Lord Paisley actually looked slightly uncomfortable for a second before he hid it behind a vibrant smile, "I simply wished to visit your lovely home. Truth be told it is pleasant to be in a parlour with more sunshine and less …"

"Company?" Lady Clympton finished knowingly.

His lordship had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, "In truth, ladies … I am here to ask for your help."

"Do you wish to enquire about my cousin's preferences, your lordship?" Violet asked sweetly.

Mr Lewis barely withheld a smirk and stepped in for his friend. "To be blunt, Lady Clympton, Miss Clympton, my friend is utterly bewitched by your fair cousin and wishes to know what he would need to do to win her." Lord Paisley shot his friend a glare but did not contradict him.

"To win a "diamond of the first water" is certainly an achievement, your lordship," Lady Clympton replied. "I take it that your charms are being lost in the flood of suitors to my sister's parlour?"

"To put it succinctly, my lady … yes," Mr Lewis agreed.

"Could you tell me of anyway that I might interest Miss Wethering, or show her that my courtship is serious?" Lord Paisley asked, "I know that I have a reputation for being something of …"

"A rake?" Violet finished.

"Violet!" her mother exclaimed. Lord Paisley nodded in resignation. His friend lifted an amused eyebrow.

"He came to ask for honest advice, Mama, I am simply being honest," Violet replied. "And the best thing I can advise you to do, my lord, is being your honest and true self. You have a love of the theatre? So does my cousin. Share your passions and interests with her. Treat her as an equal and do not go back on your word. If you have a fascination then share it, be authentic. But also observe her reactions. If she seems bored, then choose a different topic." The lord nodded. "My cousin doesn't want soliloquies written about the shade of her hair or to be overpowered by bouquets. She wants a man with whom she can speak and laugh, in other words, be her friend first."

Lord Paisley, she only noticed at this point, was making notes in a small journal. Violet was both amused and touched by this odd gesture.

Eventually, both men rose. "I thank you for your advice, Miss Clympton," Lord Paisley said, "I will make full use of it."

"Good luck, my lord," Violet replied, "And a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr Lewis."

The other man bowed low; his blue eyes warm as he kissed her hand. "And yours, Miss Clympton," he agreed, a question in his eyes that she could not understand.

It was only after they had left that her mother observed, "There is something familiar about Mr Lewis, have we met him before Vi?"

"I don't recall being introduced Mama," her daughter agreed, "But I feel as though I would know him."

It was very peculiar.

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The next few days passed in a whirl of entertainments and engagements. Violet found herself falling naturally into her place alongside Violet at the Pembleton's ball and pondering whether she was truly content in her position as a "wallflower of the Ton".

She had overheard a few comments about the Viscount's absence, but the one that had particularly stuck with her had been a brief exchange between herself and Felicity Kendall. Miss Kendall, having just finished a gavotte with the Duke of Andover had glided over with a knowing smirk and asked loudly,

"Where is the Viscount tonight, Miss Clympton? You spoke so warmly of his "excellent dancing" and "engaging manners" at our last ball."

Violet was mistress enough of herself to reply quietly, "He's at his estate at Aubrey Hall, Miss Kendall. I understand that his poor mother is unwell."

"Such a shame that he didn't think the ball a good enough reason to return to town, and in the middle of the Season? I dare say his ailing Mama held a stronger draw on his time than any fleeting new acquaintance he might have made," Felicity Kendall finished before smirking and gliding away.

Normally Violet would have been able to laugh this off within a minute, but that night she felt the barb. She seated herself by her mother and aunt, refusing all offers to dance except a promised jig with Timothy after supper.

She found herself completely oblivious to the dancing couples and the chatter of the chaperones. Instead, she was having an inner monologue with herself, trying to work out why Felicity Kendall's remark had affected her so deeply. On a regular day she would have mocking her absurdity with Katherine and spent the rest of the evening laughing at the girls in their first season. But instead, she forced herself to admit the reality that she was hurt. She did not understand why Lord Bridgerton had written her that letter, why she was now feeling so miserable in his absence.

It was a relief to her when the ball ended, and she and her mother were able to be among the first to escape. She was slightly diverted by watching Lord Paisley escorting Cordelia to their carriage, apparently deep in discussion. It was only once he had handed herself and Aunt Wethering in that her cousin explained that they had been discussing Shakespeare.

"He wishes to lend me a copy of Doctor Faustus," she added, "I can't believe I haven't read more Christopher Marlowe."

Cordelia kept up a steady flow about other playwrights he recommended until they were safely deposited outside her father's house and Violet was finally able to kick off her slippers, which had been pinching her toes for the better part of the night. Lady Clympton regarded her daughters abandoned shoeswordlessly before leading the way into the parlour.

"Tea, dearest?" she asked.

Violet hesitated, "I'm tired, Mama …"

"And your heart is heavy, Vi, I know the signs. Come into the parlour and tell me."

She knew her mother was right. Admitting defeat, Violet plodded into the parlour and threw herself upon a sofa. Lady Clympton could not repress a smile at this inelegant action and seated herself somewhat more primly upon a chaise.

"You spent most of the ball seated next to me and your aunt, Violet. That is too withdrawn even for you, talk to me."

Violet sighed heavily and explained about the impact of Felicity Kendall's words.

Her mother was confused, "But you don't care a fig for Felicity Kendall's opinion."

"I know I don't but … oh Mama you need to read his last note …"

She disappeared upstairs for a moment and returned with the letter. Lady Clympton read it through several times before putting it down and sighing slightly.

Violet was watching her with bated breath, "Well? Am I wrong?"

Her mother paused for a moment before replying, "It is an unusual letter, my love and I wish you had shared it with me before now." Her daughter coloured slightly and hid behind a cushion, "But I think that the Viscount is confused."

Violet looked up, "Confused? You mean about his feelings?"

Her mother nodded, "The reality of marriage is something that some young men take a while to come to grips with. No-one who was at that ball can doubt how struck he was with you. There is a clear connection between you to, but I think that he might have gone home and got slightly … spooked."

"Spooked?"

"By the true realities of taking a wife. You say he is the heir? Well, his mother might have stopped his plans in their tracks. Mothers do tend to have a strong influence of their children." She smiled at her daughter. "My advice is to see how things turn out. We both know that you were struck with each other and you seem to get on very well. Do not be in a rush, dearest. If his ardour has cooled, then we must face that reality. But I would not give up hope just yet. Let things play out as they will." Violet nodded, seeing the sense of her mother's words.

When the tea came, Crook found both Clympton ladies seated comfortably and discussing that evening. Violet might have sipped her tea more pensively than normal, but she was now able to understand her feelings better and willing to see where things went, just as her mother had said.

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Author's note:

I wanted to thank HeartedWords for your kind review, I didn't actually set out to sound like Lady Whistledown, but it does create a nice place to start each chapter from!

Many thanks for all the views, favourite, watches and reviews. I am not planning for this to be the longest story, but I thought re-telling Violet Bridgerton and her husband's love story might be a good accompaniment to Valentine's Day .

Thanks again,

Breeze.