The vendor glanced at Henry, who merely shrugged and said, “She’s the one who wants it. I’ll just as happily let you keep it.”
He prepared to follow Viola, who was already several feet away.
“Hold on,” the vendor called, halting Viola and bringing her back with what appeared to be great reluctance. “How about six?”
She shook her head. “Two.”
“You’ve got to do better than that,” the vendor told her. “Let’s make it five?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s too much.” Viola started to turn away once again as if she meant to leave.
The vendor threw up his hands in surrender. “Four pounds. That’s the best I can do. Final offer.”
She seemed to consider while the vendor appeared to hold his breath. Slowly, she nodded. “If you include those glass lanterns over there and ensure delivery, you have yourself a deal.”
The vendor flattened his lips, hesitated briefly, and finally gave a curt nod. He stuck out a grubby hand, and to Henry’s amazement, Viola shook it. She then reached inside her reticule and produced the money she owed.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she told the vendor after writing down the rejuvenation center’s address and handing it to him. “I’ll expect these items no later than tomorrow afternoon.”
Or you’ll have me to answer to, Henry wanted to add. Instead he merely implied the fact with a direct glare and a slightly raised eyebrow.
“What fun that was,” Viola told Henry as they continued on their way. She was more animated now than when they’d initially arrived, her eyes sparkling with the thrill of her achievement.
Mesmerized, Henry took a second to respond. When he did, it was to give her the compliment she deserved. “I must say, you bargained with impressive skill, Viola. I confess I did not expect it.”
She moved toward another stand. “Why? Because I’m a woman or because I’m a duchess?”
“Neither.” He already knew he’d be a fool to underestimate her grit on account of her title. “It’s because you’re so... and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way... but I was going to say unassuming.”
She pursed her lips and studied a selection of fabrics that Henry guessed came from India. “When I started work on the hospital, I had no idea what I was doing.” She moved on to a pair of brass vases, picking them up and turning them over in her hands before returning them to the table on which they stood. “Many people took advantage of this.” She turned to face him more fully. “When I learned of my mistakes, I decided that in the future I would determine the value of something before beginning a negotiation and that I would always be prepared to walk away empty-handed instead of overpaying.”
Henry stared at her as she moved on to a large chest with elephants and roses carved into the side. He watched as the vendor came to talk price, and for the second time that day he admired Viola’s ability to strike an incredible bargain.
In a way, it was yet another thing they had in common, this awareness of money and the value of it. While most women in her position would have spent their fortune on pretty gowns and accessories without second thought, it appeared as though Viola spent hers sparingly.
Unless of course she was choosing to be cautious for a different reason. Henry thought on this as they recommenced walking. Last night, Robert had said that he planned on contesting his father’s will. Was it possible he’d started the process already? It would certainly have put a damper on Viola’s mood if he had.
Following her to another stand, he considered his options, and, after weighing the pros and cons, settled on complete transparency. “Viola.” His hand caught her arm, drawing her back toward him. Her eyes met his, wide and inquisitive. “I want to ask you something.” He took a fortifying breath. “Did your conversation with Gabriella earlier have something to do with Tremaine contesting your husband’s will?”
Viola almost tripped over her own feet. And then she froze, her breath stuck in her throat. Was it possible she might have misheard him? She didn’t think so. Tremaine was his friend. It wasn’t unlikely that he’d called on Mr. Lowell in recent days after his return and spoken of his intention to destroy her. It made perfect sense the more she considered it, which made her wonder if spending time with Mr. Lowell was wise, since his loyalty would probably be toward Tremaine, whom he’d known for much longer.
Heart banging against her ribs, she turned to face the man whose companionship she’d come to enjoy. “When did he tell you?”
“Last night. Shortly before you arrived at the club.”
She winced and dropped her gaze. God! How stupid of her! Instinct had warned her to keep her distance from him and yet she’d allowed temptation to win. “You hid the knowledge well,” she told him bitterly.
“It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing I could bring up over dinner. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin the evening by questioning you on a subject you clearly don’t want to discuss.”
Raising her chin, she studied his face and was stunned to find sympathy rather than censure there. “You’re right. I don’t want to discuss it. Least of all with one of Tremaine’s friends.”
A nerve at the edge of his jaw twitched. “It’s been years since he and I saw each other last. A lot has changed since then.” His eyes pinned her, holding her captive. “Having gotten to know you, I do believe I have a good sense of who you are as a person.”
“Really?” She failed to keep the trace of disappointment she felt from her voice.
Jaw tightening, he pulled her close to his side and spoke to her in low tones while leading her along. “Whatever your reason for marrying Tremaine’s father, I don’t think you took advantage of the old man and I don’t believe you deserve Tremaine’s wrath.”
Viola sucked in a mouthful of air and gulped it down. “But—”
