And that bothered Henry, because he really liked Viola now that he’d gotten to know her. There was a playful side to her that she often suppressed, but he’d managed to bring it out a few times already. Watching her find amusement in pastime activities, to smile for a while and abandon her serious demeanor, thrilled him. Her happiness had started to matter to him, so if something or someone was threatening her peace of mind, he wanted to help. But how could he when she’d deliberately placed a wall between them the moment he’d asked?
He continued to ponder this while watching her stroll along. Her thoughts were clearly not engaged with the task she was supposed to be performing because she kept missing items that he was sure would fit perfectly with the Persian look she was aiming for.
Intent on drawing her attention to this, he came up beside her and caught her by the arm. The gasp she emitted was a welcome change from the solemn mood she’d been in so far, as was the light sparking in her eyes when she saw it was he.
Appreciating her response, he casually looped his arm with hers. “I want you to see something special,” he said as he pulled her around and guided her back to a stall they’d passed a few minutes earlier.
She looked briefly uncertain. “But what about everyone else? We can’t simply—”
“We’ll catch up with you,” Henry called to the rest of their group. “If we lose you, we’ll meet you back at the carriages!”
“Mr. Lowell, I—”
“Will you still not call me Henry?” he asked.
“Please don’t take offense, but I’m not sure that would be wise.” Her words were quietly spoken amid the din of the crowd.
He drew her to a halt and waited until she looked up into his face before saying, “Because you fear the intimacy of such informality?”
Her throat worked as if she tried to form words but failed. A dark pink hue flushed her cheeks but she didn’t look away. Indeed, Viola was too brave to do so—too strong to give up when challenged.
“You know my intentions where you are concerned, for I have been honest about them right from the start,” he added. “I want you, Viola, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”
“You should not say such things.” Her voice was breathless, and although her words attempted to push him away, her eyes told a different story of longing and deep desire.
“Then you must forgive me, for I cannot seem to help it.” He dropped his gaze to her lips and felt every muscle inside him strain at the sight of her tongue darting out to moisten the soft piece of flesh. “Christ, Viola.” The things she did to him. “All I ask is to hear you say Henry.”
His request seemed to vanquish the effect he’d been having on her, for she turned her attention to the stalls and started walking again. “I do not call Huntley or Coventry by their given names and I know them better than I know you.”
Well, that was a bit of a blow to his ego. Rallying, he argued, “Only because you are not friends with them but with their wives, whom I address as Gabriella and Amelia, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Of course I have, but you are family now that Florian and Juliette have wed.”
“Fair point,” he conceded, and decided to let the subject rest. There were other battles to be fought today and this was probably the least important one of them.
“Now here’s what I wanted to show you,” he said, indicating a tall wood cabinet with lacework carvings balancing across the top. “I believe you missed it.”
“You’re absolutely right.” She moved toward the piece of furniture as if in a trance. “This is perfect!”
Her amazement made his heart swell with pleasure. And then she glanced at him briefly with endless gratitude, and he found himself reduced to a green lad incapable of forming words.
So he simply smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets to stop from reaching for her again. Because all he could think of right now was how he wanted to pull her into his arms and bask in her radiance.
“How much is this?” she asked the vendor, an older man with bushy eyebrows and a portly belly.
“Eight pounds, luv. Brought it all the way from Morocco.” The man smiled and smoothed his hand over the side of the cabinet. “Nothing else like it in these parts.”
Viola’s brow knit, producing a row of furrows. Henry prepared to step forward and inform the man he was out of his mind to demand such a sum.
But then Viola said, “I’ll give you one.”
Henry whistled low and rocked back on his heels with a grin. The lady was clearly accustomed to haggling.
The vendor’s eyes narrowed. He straightened his posture. “Are you deliberately trying to insult me?”
Henry stiffened and prepared once again to come to Viola’s aid. As it turned out, she had the situation well in hand.
Crossing her arms, she stared the vendor down. “Not at all, sir. I am merely telling you what I am willing to pay. But since it’s too little...” She turned to leave.
