“Oh, come on, Viola,” Amelia said. “All you ever do is work, which can’t be very healthy.”
“Amelia’s right,” Gabriella said. “You never go anywhere or do anything.”
“That’s not true,” Viola told them. “I take Rex for a walk once a day.”
“That doesn’t count,” Gabriella said. “And what do we tell Florian if he returns to find you’ve collapsed from overexertion? He wouldn’t forgive us.”
“That would never happen,” Viola told her friends with a frown.
“Not as long as we prevent it,” Amelia agreed.
“But I... I...” Viola looked at them each in turn and finally said, “I have nothing to wear!”
“Oh. Is that all that’s troubling you.” Amelia came up on Viola’s other side. “Gabriella and I have plenty of gowns between us. We’ll have a selection of dresses delivered in the morning and you can take your pick.”
“I don’t know.” Viola glanced at Henry.
She appeared to be struggling with her decision so he decided to make one last attempt at winning her over before allowing her to decline. “We can play billiards after dinner.”
Interest sparked to life in her eyes just as he’d hoped it would. “I don’t know how to play,” she hedged, still unsure, it would seem.
Henry met her gaze and held it while aiming for the friendliest smile he could muster. “I can teach you. It will be fun, Viola. I promise.”
To his immense satisfaction she refrained from looking away, her eyes locked with his while she made her decision. Henry could scarcely breathe on account of the pure intensity of the moment, for he knew how defining it was. She would either trust him or she wouldn’t.
Eventually, after what felt like a torturous eternity, she nodded. Her lips slowly lifted to form an enthusiastic smile. “Very well. I shall join you.”
Henry’s heart soared while his body sagged with relief. It did not matter that she wasn’t looking at him anymore but rather discussing tomorrow’s dinner plans with the duchesses. All that mattered was she would be there, and he would be ready for the next phase of his courtship.
Chapter 7
Giving himself one last look in the wide mirror that hung above the chest of drawers beside his desk, Henry straightened his jacket, gave the sleeves a slight tug and faced his steward.
“Is everything ready, Mr. Faulkner?”
“Yes, sir. Four bottles of the 1811 Veuve Clicquot, Comet vintage have been put on ice as per your instructions. Your favorite violinist has also arrived and is prepared to commence momentarily.”
“And Monsieur Renarde?” Henry asked, referring to the French pastry chef he’d hired before the club had even opened—when The Red Rose had been but a dream.
“He has created the most delectable confections I have ever seen.” Mr. Faulkner smiled broadly. “Your guests will be most impressed.”
A knock sounded and Mr. Faulkner opened the door, admitting one of the waiters. “Mr. Lowell, sir. The Earl of Yates is asking to see you. Shall I show him in?”
“Right away,” Henry said. “Thank you.”
The waiter left to convey the message. “I should return to my duties,” Faulkner said. He paused in the doorway to look back at Henry. “Don’t worry. We have done this hundreds of times before. Whoever it is you’re trying to impress will be dazzled this evening. Mark my word.”
And then he was gone, replaced seconds later by Yates and denying Henry the chance to consider his nerves. Which was just as well. He could do with a distraction from his concerns about whether Viola would have a nice evening.
“I came to see if you’re still in one piece,” Yates said as he crossed the floor to shake Henry’s hand. “You look remarkably well, all things considered.”
“My brother stitched me up before leaving for Paris. After that, I received excellent care from one of the nurses”
Yates responded with a wide grin. “One of the pretty ones, I hope?”
“The prettiest of all,” Henry assured him. He gestured toward a chair, offering Yates a seat. “I hear you’ve been rather busy lately. Are the rumors about you courting a young lady true?”
Yates sat and stretched out his legs. “To some degree. That is, I have been spending a fair amount of time with my sister’s friend, Miss Evelyn Harlow. The fact that I have plans to marry her, however, is entirely false.”
