Viola had closed her eyes, hand pressed to her sternum.
“Damp air,” Malcolm said, moving around the table toward her. “She needs fresh, humid air.”
But before he could reach her side, Ethan and Hadley had already assisted Viola to stand. She clung to each of their arms as they guided her toward the tall terrace doors. An obliging footman pulled one open, blasting them all with fading sun.
Malcolm squinted and held up a hand to block the horizontal light.
By the time his vision had cleared, Viola was being led across the terrace and down wide flagstone steps to a large, bubbling fountain. Ethan assisted her to sit on its stone edge, holding her hand and perching beside her with solicitous concern.
Malcolm filed onto the terrace with the rest of the guests—Mrs. Ruxton bobbing on tiptoe trying to see, Sir Rafe with his wife on his arm. Kendall, of course, pushed to the front of the group, sending Malcolm a bemused glance as he passed . . . the bastard.
For his part, Malcolm edged to the right of everyone, giving himself a clearer view of Viola.
“Breathe, lass,” Hadley encouraged, crouching before her. “Reach deep . . . from the bottom of your lungs.” He mimicked the motion, ribs expanding.
Viola’s chest continued to heave, her face in profile, the hollow of her throat sucking in with each labored breath.
Lady Hadley sat on Viola’s opposite side.
And Malcolm . . .
Well . . .
He stood with the other guests.
Powerless. Watching.
Helplessly observing.
Because he had no claim to be at the side of the woman he loved as she struggled and suffered.
The woman he loved.
Bloody hell.
He closed his eyes, swallowing hard.
A fine tremor ofrightnessshivered through him.
Hedidlove her.
Thoroughly. Body and soul.
With the same all-consuming joy he had loved Aileen.
The emotion rolled over him, as obliterating and giddy as the first thunderstorm after a long drought.
“Miss Brodure?” Lady Hadley was saying. “Can I do anything to help?”
Viola spared a glance for the guests gathered, her gaze skimming right over Malcolm.
His heart panged.
“So m-many eyes,” she murmured.
Lady Hadley nodded, exchanging a look with her husband. It was a wifely sort of look and Hadley, a long-time married man, understood instantly.
Standing, Hadley clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and then politely asked the guests to kindly follow Lady Hadley to the drawing-room for after-dinner tea.
