Viola sighed, set down her quill pen, and turned to him once again. “There are fifteen diamonds on this list I’ve put together. We have gone through seven so far and you have found fault with every one of them. Are you sure you do not want to go to London and simply have a look at these young ladies for yourself?”
“Absolutely not.”
She cast him a delicate smile. “My lord, you do realize you are behaving like a stubborn, little boy again.”
He grunted in amusement. “Yes, but so what? It is my prerogative to be as thickheaded as I like. By the way, I think you ought to call me Alex when we are in private. I am confiding my heart to you and it seems ridiculous to maintain formality now that I am…in effect, I am trusting you with my very heart.”
She paled, the delicacy of her features quite obvious as the color drained from her face. And it was a beautiful face, for Viola had softly arched eyebrows and an equally soft, rounded chin. Her nose was slender and slightly on the long side which he liked better than those little, squashed noses others deemed adorable and delightful.
Her lips were full and generous, and her entire face lit up when she smiled.
She had finely sculpted cheekbones and little, rounded ears.
Atop it all was a head of chestnut hair that resembled dark silk and would be exquisite to the touch. So would her body be exquisite if he ever dared put a hand on the girl…which he would not. “Fine, don’t call me Alex. Keep to the ridiculous formality, if you prefer. As for those seven struck off the list, that still leaves eight to review. Out of those eight, we only need to find three.”
She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “Would you mind terribly if we resumed this discussion tomorrow? I really must get back to my father.”
He shut theDebrett’sand rose along with her. “I’ll walk you home.”
She shook her head. “I am fine walking on my own. I’ll leave those juicy gossip rags with you to peruse at your leisure.”
“Must I?”
“Yes, you must,” she said, sounding like a prim schoolmistress again. But there was a softness to her voice that he found immensely attractive and gave him naughty thoughts.
He tamped those down immediately.
“I’ll tuck those gossip sheets away or poor Greaves will be scandalized.” He took her gently by the arm to lead her into the entry hall. “You are not going to walk home, and certainly not on your own. Give me a moment and I’ll have my carriage readied.”
“That is ridiculous. I am only going to the vicarage which is just down the hill. It is a lovely day and the walk will do me good.”
“Very well, but I’ll escort you. No protest, Viola.”
She looked up at him with her big, soft eyes. “What will everyone think?”
“Nothing at all, unless you behave as though you have something to hide. Do you?”
She blushed furiously. “No, of course not.”
He released her arm. “Then there is no problem. Greaves and Mrs. Lester already know that you are helping me organize a house party and choosing which eligible young ladies to invite. Greaves knew it within minutes of your arrival because he is an incorrigible snoop and not at all discreet. Neither of them think anything of our meeting regularly in my parlor, open to anyone’s view. They know it is all business, and will not even raise an eyebrow in surprise when they learn you are also to cook the specially crafted meals for the event.”
He hoped that sounded convincing.
He would deal firmly and swiftly with any harmful gossip that arose.
They strolled out the front door and toward the massive, wrought iron gates visible in the distance that served as the entryway to his property. He glanced at Viola, noting her sturdy walking boots and her practical gown. It was not fancy at all, just a dark green muslin devoid of all adornment. Yet, she looked elegant despite the gown’s lack of any lace trim.
Jeremy, the local boy who tended his sheep, waved at Viola and was about to call out to her, but suddenly stopped when he noticed who was walking beside her. “My lord,” he said, his eyes wide and questioning as he bowed.
Alexander took a moment to acknowledge the young lad and ask after the flock.
The boy’s gaze kept darting between him and Viola, who was blushing again. Blessed saints, the girl needed to learn how to hide her expressions. Why was she embarrassed? They had done nothing wrong. “Miss Ruskin, come along. Your father is awaiting our return.”
“Yes, my lord.”
She scampered by his side. “Um, you do not need to walk me to the door.”
“Yes, I do. It is only polite that I stop in and greet your father.” No matter that he hadn’t been at all polite the other the day when drunk and sprawled out in front of the vicarage. “As for you, I shall see you at noon tomorrow. I’ll have Mrs. Stringer prepare a proper luncheon for us.”
