They heard a roar of laughter emanating from the dining room where Alex was holding forth with Gabriel and Graelem. The three of them marched in a moment later, Alex carrying a tray of the tiny cheese tarts Viola had taught his kitchen staff to make. She had asked Greaves upon arrival to send word to Mrs. Stringer to prepare them for the earl, seeing as he liked them so much and he was in dire need of cheering up. “Pardon us, ladies, but we must abduct Viola for a few minutes.”
His mother eyed him warily. “What are you boys up to?”
“Teaching Father a lesson,” Gabriel said with a smirk. He walked over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Don’t worry. We will do him no physical harm.”
Of course, the ladies were not to be left behind.
They all barged in on his father who was propped on his side with pillows under his back and looking quite miserable. Alex held out the tray of cheese tarts. “Viola had these made for you, Father. What do you think about that?”
“Blatant bribery,” he grumbled, looking quite hapless as he held a hot towel to his back. “But it won’t work.”
Alex shook his head. “I thought that would be your response. You are right, it is a low thing to do. How dare she be considerate of your feelings and seek to provide you something so thoughtful. I assure you, I would not have done so.”
“I am in no humor for your sarcasm, Alex. Hand me the platter and begone with all of you.”
“What? And have you take a single bribe? Not on your life.” He began to pass around the tray. “Grandmama, would you care for one?”
“Thank you, Alex. How delightful.” She popped a tart into her mouth.
He then proceeded to offer one to each lady except Viola, and then to Gabriel and Graelem.
Laurel swallowed hers and then chuckled. “You are diabolical, Alex. I heartily approve. This is exactly the sort of thing I would do.”
Viola did enjoy his father’s send up, but did not have the heart to deprive him beyond this little jest. Alex offered the last one to her. “What do you say, Viola?”
“I know how they taste. It is my recipe, after all. I think your father should have it.”
“No, he is not one to be bribed. We all heard him quite clearly. I think you must have it.”
She shook her head. “Please, has he not suffered enough?”
“Not nearly enough,” Alex said with a grin. “He’s piled this misery on himself.”
His father erupted. “Blast you, Alex! I shall call a special meeting of the House of Lords and have you not only cut out of the family line but see you hung, drawn, and quartered as well! Ow! My aching back! I’ll have the lot of you–ow! Bloody impertinent whelp!”
Viola took the last tart off the tray and handed it to the Earl of Trent. “Calm down before you rupture your spleen in addition to your other miseries. Here, this is for you. Do not stuff it all in your mouth at once or you will choke on it.”
He eyed her warily. “Why would you offer me this after the way I’ve treated you?”
“Because you love your son and he loves you. I would never deprive anyone, no matter how cross or unreasonable, of something they loved.”
“It is just food,” he grumbled.
“One would think it was the breath of life to you the way you are going on about it,” Alexander muttered.
His father took the tart and ate it in two bites. “Almost as good as yours. Thank you, Viola.”
“You are most welcome, my lord.”
He scowled at the others. “Alex, come here. The others…get out of here. I need to talk to my son and his future wife.”
Lady Trent scurried over to her husband and kissed his cheek. “I knew you could not be this insufferably dense for long.”
He grumbled and lovingly shooed his wife away.
Once the three of them were left alone, the earl regarded her and Alex for a long moment. “Viola, will your father be in sufficient health to stand by you?”
“No, my lord.” She emitted a ragged breath to steady herself. “I am not even certain he will have the strength to attend. Has your son told you? We plan to marry on the day after tomorrow for my father’s sake. He is in a very bad way.”
