“Which is no small feat,” Coventry said.
The rest of the group nodded. “It is unusual for a woman to involve herself with medicine,” Huntley said. “At an administrative level, I mean.”
“What are you implying?” Gabriella asked with raised eyebrows while Amelia gave her brother an equally expectant look—the sort that ought to warn the duke to tread carefully at the moment.
“Merely that I have only heard of women being nurses. Viola is the only female physician I have ever heard of.”
Viola almost choked on the wine she was drinking. “I am not a physician, Huntley. I am merely St. Agatha’s patroness.”
“I think we can all agree that you’re far more than that,” Mr. Lowell said.
Feeling a flush spread across her cheeks, Viola willed herself to regain her equanimity. The effect he was having on her could not be denied, and she wasn’t the least bit sure what to do about it. “All I have done is provide a building.”
Silence ensued for a length of time before Gabriella remarked, “But you renovated that building.”
“And you see to the daily running of it,” Amelia added.
“From what I have been able to gather, you even assist with the surgeries,” Coventry said.
“Which must require some medical training,” Huntley told her.
Viola glanced at them each in turn. “Renovating the building was not as complicated as you might think. I merely hired a foreman who handled everything on my behalf.”
“Having renovated a building of my own,” Amelia said, “I know it is not as simple as that. There are always decisions to be made and work to check up on.”
“Well yes, I suppose that is true,” Viola agreed. “I just never really thought much of it.” She flattened her lips and knit her brow while thinking back on the project she’d undertaken right after her husband’s death. It had been staggering in its magnitude, but the distraction had been a welcome one. It had given her something else to focus on besides her husband’s relations, who’d made no effort to hide their dislike of her when they’d shown up for the funeral.
A waiter arrived, setting down plates before them. Viola’s mouth watered as she looked at her salmon, perfectly pink and decorated with a light drizzle of mustard sauce, a curled lemon slice and dill. Picking up her cutlery, she cut a piece and popped it in her mouth, the buttery texture and zesty flavor a decadent treat for her taste buds.
“Good?” Mr. Lowell queried so low only she would be able to hear.
Viola nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” She washed down the bite with some wine and stabbed the salmon with her fork while saying, “My father believed in gender equality, so he taught me everything he knew.” She shrugged a little on that thought. “The fact that he had no sons is probably also worth mentioning at this point.”
“It is a minor detail,” Mr. Lowell said. “What matters is the opportunity you were granted.”
“I agree,” Gabriella said. “Women are just as capable of learning things as men. Limiting us to playing instruments, doing needlework and looking pretty is a waste.”
Coventry tilted his head. “While I agree—especially after witnessing my own wife’s ability to run a business—I do think many would argue that keeping a home in order is no simple feat.”
“You’re right,” Gabriella said. “It isn’t. Especially not when there are servants to manage and parties to host. It can be something of a logistical problem at times. But”—she dipped her chin and served her brother-in-law a very frank stare—“I will still encourage my daughter to follow her dreams. Whatever they may be.”
“Let us not forget that if you’d been allowed to follow yours, my dear,” Huntley said, “you and I might never have met because you would have been off chasing insects in some exotic location.”
Gabriella blushed. “I’m ever so glad I wasn’t.” Her eyes met her husband’s and her blush deepened, inciting a twinge of envy deep inside Viola’s chest.
She’d fulfilled her dream, Viola reminded herself. What need had she for anything more? The question prompted her to glance in Mr. Lowell’s direction, and for a second, she could not help but be caught up in the way his jaw worked as he chewed his food.
Ridiculous.
She returned her gaze to her own plate before he could notice her perusal, worried he might believe she was falling for him if he caught her looking. And then he’d probably flirt with her even more, which would not be the least bit helpful. For if there was one thing she really didn’t need, it was to give another man the power to crush her heart, no matter how tempting it was to do so.
Chapter 9
When Henry felt the heat of her gaze against his skin, it took every bit of willpower he possessed to stop himself from turning toward her and meeting those silver eyes that sparkled like moonbeam-kissed puddles. How she was able to dismiss them as dull was beyond him, for in truth, they were more unusual than any he’d ever seen and thus more intriguing.
But it wasn’t just her eyes that were different, it was Viola herself. Her uniqueness made him want to understand her, to pick apart her brain and figure out why it worked the way it did. It also made him realize that treating her the way he’d treated other women in the past would get him nowhere. So he allowed her curious regard of him while feigning ignorance.
She was dedicated to her work and didn’t flaunt the position. In fact, considering he’d never seen her make a public appearance, she either valued her privacy or did not care for Society. Possibly both. Or maybe she did not want to face gossip, which was something she probably would when considering her age, her looks, and the fact that she’d married a man old enough to be her grandfather and gained an impressive title in the process.
