“Of course.” He moved a little to one side and said, “Viola Cartwright, Duchess of Tremaine, I would like for you to meet my grandparents, the Earl and Countess of Scranton.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintances,” Viola said.
“Indeed, the pleasure is entirely ours,” Lord Scranton told her. “We’ve been admiring this new rejuvenation center of yours and are both quite eager to acquire memberships to it. As are many of our friends. I have to say, what you have created here is truly impressive. Takes me back to my visit to Turkey.”
“Oh!” Viola’s eyes glowed. “Ottoman and Arabic design have been my inspiration, though I must confess I have only ever seen it illustrated in books.”
“Well, you have recreated the atmosphere perfectly,” Lord Scranton said.
Viola beamed. “Thank you.” She glanced at Henry. “Your grandson was actually tremendously helpful with that. He showed me the market in Woolwich where some of the pieces I used to decorate the center were purchased.”
“I love that place,” Lady Scranton said. “One can find the most surprising things there.”
“So I’ve been told,” Viola said with a knowing smile directed at Henry.
His chest expanded with pure adoration. When he glanced at his grandmother, he saw that she’d noticed, because a flicker of amusement danced in the old woman’s eyes. She turned to Viola. “Would you like to take a turn of the room with me? I find the need to exercise my legs.”
“Brilliant idea,” Lord Scranton said. “I have a few things I need to discuss with my grandson, and my wife is eager to see some of the other rooms. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to show them to her, Your Grace?”
“I would be delighted,” Viola said. She looked at Henry, her eyes fully focused on him and nothing else. “I will see you a little bit later.” And then she was walking away with his grandmother, and Henry had to force his feet to remain where they were.
“She’s different from how I imagined,” his grandfather said with a thoughtful touch to his voice.
Henry turned to face him. “How so?”
“Well... with all the gossip about her when she married Tremaine, I expected a cold and calculating sort of woman, but she doesn’t strike me as such at all.”
“She’s anything but,” Henry said. “And people ought to realize that, considering she founded a hospital that doesn’t charge patients for care and the fact that she has always kept to herself. She certainly didn’t marry to improve her status or she would have been out in Society more.”
Scranton sipped his champagne. “I agree.” He paused as if muddling something over. “She doesn’t really look the part either, does she?”
Henry stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Considering the other duchesses we know, like Huntley’s and Coventry’s wives, who are strikingly beautiful, the Duchess of Tremaine fades into the background a bit. I mean, she’s plainer than one would expect when considering her impressive title.”
Shoulders straight and posture stiff, Henry stared at Scranton while trying to decrease the pressure now building inside his head. He glanced across the room to where his parents were chatting with a group of friends and briefly considered excusing himself to go join them. “Viola is the most beautiful woman here.” It was so obvious to him he could not understand how anyone else might feel differently.
Scranton’s eyebrows rose. “I meant no offense, my boy. It was just an observation.”
“Well, in future, you will refrain from saying such things in my presence since it is completely untrue.”
“Your defensiveness is most intriguing.” Scranton took another sip of his drink. “I daresay I’ve never seen you defend a woman so passionately before. Not once.”
Henry’s chest rose and fell with the effort it took to draw breath. The comment had agitated him beyond reason and it had provoked him into showing his hand. “She matters to me.”
“Duly noted.” A glimmer of amusement filled Scranton’s eyes before sliding into the background. “Word has it Tremaine is trying to stir up trouble for her. Considering your brother’s association with the lady as well as your own newly established... friendship with her, I presume you’re offering assistance?”
Henry stared at Scranton. The old man was as sharp as a wasp’s stinger. “Of course.” He narrowed his gaze. “How did you hear of it?”
“You know how it is. People see things. They talk. Nothing was certain until you just confirmed it.” Scranton took a sip of his drink. His mouth moved as if delighting in the champagne’s flavor before returning to a more serious line. “As your grandfather, I feel compelled to warn you.”
“Really?”
“Taking on a duke is no laughing matter, Henry.” Realizing he’d spoken too loud, Scranton glanced around before lowering his voice. “All he needs to do is make a compelling argument in his favor and discredit a woman Society’s already suspicious of. Tell me, who’s his barrister?”
Henry stuck his free hand in his pocket while taking a fortifying swallow of his own drink. “Mr. Hayes.”
“Good God, that man never loses!”
