“That you help me select the young ladies to be invited.” He studied her as her lovely eyes widened in obvious surprise. “It must be you, or I will not go through with it. Are you willing?”
CHAPTER 2
VIOLA SHOOK HERhead and emitted a soft trill of laughter, unable to believe this brandy-soaked viscount knew what he was asking. “Me? Help you? I do not know the first thing about these society darlings. Truly, your mother or your sister-in-law will be far more adept at guiding you.”
“But I want you,” he said with a soft growl that shot warmth into her cheeks.
“To help you?” She shook her head again. “Fine. But do not blame me if you find them all unsuitable. The fault is squarely on you.”
He crossed his heart, drawing her attention to his broad chest and the light ripple of his solid muscles visible beneath his wet shirt. “Blame falls entirely on me. Then we are agreed?”
“Dear heaven,” she muttered, knowing this could turn into the biggest mistake of her life. What was she doing? For that matter, what was he thinking? He was a big, gorgeous brute of a viscount and so far above her station that she dared not even dream of a possible match between them.
Truly, not even dreams of him were safe.
He was out of her reach in every way possible.
Her answer to his request had to be a resounding no.
What she ought to do is chase him out of her kitchen before this went any further.
She took a deep breath and slowly let the air out as she said, “Yes.”
Dear heaven again.
What had just come out of her mouth?
She had meant to refuse.
Oh, Viola. What a ninny you are.
His smile was genuinely openhearted. “Thank you.”
She could not recall ever seeing him smile like this in the two years since his Lady Jillian had died. Perhaps this was a good step forward for him, but what about her path? He was climbing out of the deep well he had dug for himself and she seemed to be jumping right into it.
She shook her head.
All would be well if she remained sensible.
Was this not her best quality?
Nor had her father raised her to turn her back on those who sought their help. Even if the house party proved to be a disaster, it did not matter. What mattered was the viscount’s willingness to take this important first step toward his recovery.
Her father was dying and she could do nothing to prevent it.
So why not help someone who could be saved?
She breathed a sigh, feeling better now that she had made this decision. After all, it was only a weekend house party, and they would have no need to see each other during it or ever again after it.
Indeed, if it turned out to be successful, he would likely return to London and begin accepting invitations to all the elite society affairs.
She would be forgotten, assuming she even entered his thoughts.
He seemed pensive now that he had made this first leap forward. Pensive and pleased, for his entire appearance seemed to lighten as he began to unburden himself. “My family and friends have been hounding me about getting back into circulation for over a year now. My parents, especially. They don’t stop. I cannot bear to open their letters anymore. I know what each one is going to say.”
“They write because they see you have gotten yourself stuck and worry about you.”
“I know. This is why I have been drinking more heavily than usual. They are right, it is time I gave it a try. However, I am not sure I will ever be able to move on.”
