Worth

Chapter 10 (Pt. 1)

"Morning, Miss Violet. Ready for breakfast?"

"Rosie, how do I look to you?"

"It's early. Coffee?"

"Woman to woman, give it to me straight."

"Well, your shirt's on backwards. You've got some dark circles, but those beat eye bags any day. Pyjama bottoms are inside out and you seem to have acquired a cowlick."

"I meant do I look different to you?"

"No."

"Okay. Coffee would be great. Thanks, Rosie."

"Woman to woman, Violet? I find it hard to have pity for someone about to come into a fortune, but I hope you get yours first and get out of here fast."

"Thanks."

Violet stared at the breakfast tray Rosie had delivered. She dangled her feet from the side of her bed, trying to prepare her mouth and her anxious insides for grapefruit. No use. No saliva either for the drywall-like blueberry scone, so she sipped the too strong coffee. Was there really anything worth being so anxious about? Shouldn't the reward of years of solitude be some kind of clarity? Something, to her mind, despite assuring words to the contrary, was definitely off. Violet felt a cosmic disconnect, an answer she was entitled to withheld from her. Maybe if her dilemma had in somehow manifested itself physically than someone might offer an explanation or at least a clue. Shouldn't she, in some way, look as torn as she felt?

How fair was it that the most desirable qualities in the ideal man could be split between two men and force her to make a decision? Maybe as fair as anything in this world, but Violet was tired of mysteries.

James was intense and romantic. He stood up for what he believed in so that even a few hardened political minds might be swayed. He was kind enough that even if he didn't love his great uncle completely, which Violet was beginning to suspect, he refused to let a lonely old man know it. But her attraction to James made her uneasy. Out of sight, she questioned it. His attention flattered her but she was too conscious of the effect. Even if in the best way possible, why was she still terrified?

John was so good natured and patient. He had a guillotine wit that could split a hair, but caused far less damage that it was capable of. His was a grandiose act at times, but based in humility the unfamiliar confused with self-pity. And yet, he could be too quick. It gave Violet the sense she was missing a point and that that was in some way a disappointment to him, which was a shame because before and after the kiss, no one else had impressed her as much. But, who hits an old woman?

For someone who mocked hypocrisy so well, John submitted himself to the ridiculous to get his share of the inheritance. Violet couldn't really blame him, but since her loyalty was to Leo, she couldn't pardon him either. By that rule, it was James 'Jimmy' Greer who deserved her attention. She did like him, but settling her mind so logically did little to settle her stomach. She was still missing something. Ignorance couldn't be bliss for very long, could it?

Violet was instructed by note to join the family after breakfast at the original scene of the crime, Leo's study. She looked in her wardrobe for an outfit labelled, "Inconsequential Rigmarole", but found only, "Monday Morning Reveal". Downstairs too early and she'd look greedy. Downstairs too late and they'd despise her. She dressed quickly and made her way to the study as slowly as looked normal.

What relieved her almost immediately was that John behaved no differently than usual when she entered the room. No, remember last night? eyes. No, we've got a secret, don't we? winks. He did make sure that she saw a subtle hand gesture, a gruesome stabbing motion, as a last chance confession just before she was flanked by Elizabeth and Elsa and hustled into a spot on the sofa. Violet then, in turn, had to discreetly signal to James that she had fallen asleep when he looked at her as if to ask what had happened to their staircase date.