Without saying anything, Emma clambered up on Violet's lap. Violet bounced her up and down on her knee.
"I think you found a new friend," Gertrude said, clearly charmed by Emma's worship of Violet.
"I think I have, too, and I'm most thankful for it," Violet said, her eyes shining. "I have a sister about her age back home; her name is Clare. I miss her very much. And then of course I have another sister, Cora. She's in London," Violet said, her eyes taking on a longing expression.
"It must be hard to be so far away. What brought you to London?" George asked. Emma's fondness had broken any ice, and now the Abbotts were behaving as if Violet was just one more slightly older member of their brood.
"Wel , I thought I'd be an actress," Violet admitted.
"Wel , you stil can. You're how old? Seventeen?" Gertrude asked as she patted the corner of her mouth with her white linen napkin.
Violet nodded. "Yes, I suppose I could be," she said, sighing. Through the entire conversation, she'd been eating ravenously, almost faster than Mrs. Duckworth could refil her plate. Luke and Oliver were watching in admiration, clearly in awe of her appetite. After al , they'd often tried to have eating competitions in the past, only to be admonished by Mrs. Duckworth with a sharp rap to their knuckles.
"Wel , Stefan, your family is lovely, just like I'd imagine. It's as my husband said, family truly is the most important thing in life," Gertrude said, her intel igent blue eyes shining.
"I agree," I said thickly.
Violet final y put down her fork and slumped over, resting her elbows on the table. Her eyes were glassy and her face was ghostly white.
"Are you al right, dear?" Gertrude asked, pushing back her chair. Hurriedly, Mrs. Duckworth raced over to assist her.
"She's fine. She's just had a long day. We left London quite early," I said frantical y, wondering if this was the beginning of the end.
"Of course. Wel , I can have the guest room prepared if . . ."
Violet sat up and took a few deep breaths. Aware al eyes were on her, she smoothed back her auburn hair and sat ramrod straight. Her smile was frozen into a grimace. It al must have been excruciating to her. "I apologize. I'm quite al right, thank you," she said, her voice strong and steady.
I placed my own napkin next to my plate and stood up to help Violet. She needed to be alone, and quickly.
"I think we'l go for a walk. As you said, the air wil do us good," I said, pul ing Violet's chair back and offering her my arm. She was about to die, and I couldn't have that happen in the Manor. I'd come up with something to tel the Abbotts later - that she'd decided to head back to London to see her doctor, and that she sent her regards. After twenty years of lying, I'd learned to think of al the eventualities.
Oliver stirred impatiently at the end of the table. "Can we go hunting? Please? I've been practicing al day and you promised. Violet can come with us!"
"Oliver!" Gertrude admonished. "Stefan wil be entertaining his cousin."
"Another time, Oliver," I said, patting his head. "Just keep working on your aim and you'l be able to teach me something when we go out," I said.
Violet smiled slightly, and I felt another heavy dose of regret. Accident or not, I'd led her to Damon. Because of me, Violet would never have a family of her own. "Thank you very much for a lovely meal," I said. I held my hand out for Violet and the two of us walked into the afternoon light.
There was a chil in the air, and I realized how close we were to fal . The longer I lived, the more I became aware of how quickly the seasons changed. Sometimes I felt like one had barely begun before we were on to the next - so unlike when I was a human, when a summer seemed to stretch for a lifetime. It was just one of the mil ions of tiny losses that I endured, that Violet wouldn't have to.
"I don't know what came over me at dinner," Violet confessed as I led her up the rock-strewn path through the glen. I thought it would be nice to head to Ivinghoe Beacon. It was the tal est spot in the parish, tal er even than the large waterwheel that churned in the Chiltern River to power the mines down below.
We walked companionably through the glittering green glen, which seemed more alive than ever. Sparrows chirped, chipmunks and squirrels rattled in the dense shrubbery, and I could hear the sound of the brook rushing toward Bilbury Creek.
Violet stopped mid-step.
"Are you al right?" I asked delicately. It seemed a terrible question to ask. Of course she wasn't al right.
Violet shook her head. "I'l miss everything," she said, spreading her hands wide as if to take the whole view in.
I saw her shoulders rise and fal , heard a slight gasp escape her lips. But she didn't cry.
I grabbed her hand. There was nothing I could say, so we continued walking up the hil , until the grass turned rougher, the rocks larger, and the air slightly thinner. We walked through a dense forest of evergreen trees until the moment I was waiting for - when the trees cleared and al that was left was blue sky above, and England sprawling down below. It was one of my favorite spots in the world, second only to the far edge of the property of my childhood home in Virginia where the pond met the forest.
"Thank you for taking me here," she said final y. She put her hand on her heart. "Oh, Stefan!" she cal ed out in anguish.
"Shhh," I said, pul ing her close. I wasn't sure how else I could comfort her. Around us, birds continued to chirp and the autumn air ruffled her skirts. But inside, I knew she was weakening. "Shhh," I said again.
She buried her face in her hands against my chest. I held her as she sobbed, each shudder of hers a twist in my heart. Final y, she pried her fingers off and looked at me with such a piercing gaze that I stepped back.