“I should probably go,” Viola said, but was stopped from doing so by Lady Scranton herself.
Dressed in taffeta and lace, the old woman appeared in the doorway before Viola even managed to collect her reticule. The countess looked from Henry to Viola and back again. “What a pleasant surprise finding the two of you here together.” She walked forward, skirts swishing.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Henry blurted before he could think to stop himself. Lady Scranton’s face swiveled toward him, brows raised as if in challenge. “What I mean to say is that Her Grace is here for a very good reason.”
“I’m sure she is,” his grandmother said with no apparent attempt to hide her amusement.
Henry sighed. “We were discussing her case. Steadford just left,” he muttered, and gestured toward the seating arrangement where Mr. Hayes’s cup of tea still sat, mostly untouched. “Shall we?”
Lady Scranton nodded and moved toward the armchair. She lowered herself to the seat and waited expectantly for Henry and Viola to join her.
Viola hesitated. “I should probably—”
“Have a seat,” Lady Scranton suggested.
Henry darted a look at Viola. She was eyeing the sofa with some uncertainty. Henry didn’t blame her. There was no telling where this conversation with his grandmother was destined to lead.
A hint of a smile tugged at the countess’s lips. She inclined her head. “I like you, Duchess, and I daresay my grandson likes you too. Please, join us for a moment. There is much I wish to discuss with you both.”
Viola glanced between Lady Scranton and Henry before slowly edging her way toward the spot she’d vacated only a few minutes earlier. When she eventually lowered herself, it was to perch on the edge of the seat, like a bird prepared to take flight.
Henry sat down beside her.
“So,” his grandmother said, “word has it that Tremaine is out for blood.” She looked at each of them in turn. “According to your grandfather, it was the main topic of conversation last night at White’s. A page in the betting book has even been dedicated to the outcome. People are staking money on who they believe will win.”
“Good Lord,” Viola muttered, and Henry immediately reached for her hand.
The gesture did not go unnoticed. His grandmother’s eyes were filled with interest, but when she prepared to speak, he cut her off by saying, “Did Scranton say how word got out?”
“It was Tremaine’s doing.”
Viola sucked in a breath. “So he wasn’t just talking about his upcoming meeting with journalists when he said it was too late to save my reputation. He wants to make a spectacle of me.”
“Obviously,” Lady Scranton agreed. “That man despises you or he would have kept the matter private.”
“Articles will appear in tomorrow’s papers,” Henry muttered. “That is inevitable.”
“My reputation will be in tatters before the hearing begins.” She looked at Henry with the desperation of someone who feared her escape route had just been cut off. “Winning will take no effort at all for Tremaine and Hayes.”
“As things stand at the moment,” Lady Scranton said. She pushed Hayes’s cup from earlier aside and reached for a clean one. “How about some tea?” When Viola and Henry both answered in the affirmative, she filled their cups and hers as well before taking a long sip. “Now, in my estimation, the best course of action for you right now, Viola, would be to marry Henry.”
Viola sputtered before managing to say, “I beg your pardon?”
Lady Scranton pursed her lips. “Well. It would give you the advantage of being a Lowell and ensuring that you have the full strength of his entire family behind you,” she said while Henry felt like protesting. Not because he disagreed, but because he didn’t want anyone’s interference when it came to his future with Viola. “As his wife, you would be a more difficult target.”
“Because I and all my worldly possessions would belong to my husband,” Viola said with a dull note that made Henry want to pick his grandmother up and carry her out of the house before she said something else to undermine his efforts of winning Viola.
Lady Scranton sighed. “Having seen the two of you together, it is clear to me that you care for each other.”
Henry squeezed Viola’s hand and addressed his grandmother. “Will you excuse us for a moment? I would like to speak with Her Grace alone.”
“By all means,” his grandmother said.
Henry stood and waited for Viola to do the same. She moved slowly, but her hand never left his as he led her from the parlor and back to his library. Entering the room, Henry glanced around to ensure that none of his servants was present before closing the door and turning to face Viola. His nerves jumped in response to her hesitant expression, and although this was not how he’d planned to propose, it was time for him to do so.
“She’s right,” he said, and took a step forward. Reaching up, he pushed a loose strand of hair from Viola’s brow and tucked it behind her ear. His knuckles grazed her cheek as his hand fell away, stirring his senses on account of the sigh with which she responded. “As my wife—”
“Everything I own would belong to you.”
