Page 21 of Becoming Lady Dalton
“I never expected you’d become such a popular young lady, Mrs. Cartwright!”
“I find myself in need of tea, Gran.” Viola needed much more than tea. She needed a few draughts of a stronger drink after the whirlwind of the past hour. The taste of Piers’ kiss lingered on her breath. Giddy, schoolgirl happiness, however, couldn’t dull her worry about Reed’s visit.
“I shall call up a fresh pot. Do, come and sit. I want to know all about what that awful Bow Street man wanted with you. Corrupt, the lot of them.” The baroness shook herself like a hen fluffing its feathers. Then, she bumped into the wall while reaching for a velvet bell pull and knocked a painting askew.
“How much sherry did you and Admiral Saxon consume, Gran?” Viola righted the picture.
“That is none of your concern. Now come, sit.”
Viola blinked at the sight of Baroness Landor patting the place next to her on the sofa. Her grandmother’s starchy demeanor and sharp witticisms were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, she ought to ply her grandmother with fortified wine more often. Daily. Hourly, even. Certainly, before breakfast.
“There isn’t much to tell,” Viola said, sliding into place. “Reed asked intrusive questions about my recent purchases to fit the new townhouse for Edward and Harper, and then Piers arrived and asked me intrusive questions about the admiral.”
“Who is quite taken with you, dear girl.”
“Gran, I am neither a girl nor even a young lady. I am a penniless widow,” Viola chided.
“Do you need money?” Gran asked. “Is that what you’re hinting at?”
“I—” Viola hesitated.
Despite her flippancy, Reed’s visit had raised serious questions about her husband—ones she’d avoided thinking about ever since she’d left Upper Cotwarren. Sam hadn’t come back. Even if he had, the man wasn’t going to live for long. The marriage was over. At minimum, she needed to know what Bow Street had discovered about her husband, Samuel Cartwright. If they had discovered anyone. Corrupt investigators could be bought. How much could a little advance notice cost?
“Twenty pounds.” The exorbitant sum popped out of her mouth without forethought. Despite her mild inebriation, the baroness lifted her chin.
“An entire year’s pin money, all at once? I shall give you half that. I expect Matthew will want a gift at Christmas, and every boy needs a few reminders of home when he goes off to school. I shall inform the butler to give it to you. Now, about Admiral Saxon’s visit.”
That was it?She’d asked for money, and her grandmother had given it to her without question. Viola was so bewildered by her unexpected success that she missed the switch in topic.
“Thank you, Grandmother. You are very generous.”
“Pshaw. Nonsense. I see very good progress with your prospects. Tomorrow evening, we shall attend the opera with the admiral.”
“Oh?” Viola froze, teacup halfway up.
“Yes.” The baroness clapped. “He has asked for permission to court you. While I understand this may feel sudden, the admiral believes you have formed an affection over the past twenty-four hours.”
“Does he?” Viola parroted.Based upon what encouragement?
“I have informed him that the only possible impediment is Lord Dalton’s apparent interest.” The baroness actually winked. “Do you believe there is hope of a match with the viscount, dear?”
“No,” Viola choked out. Tea splashed over the rim of her dish and onto the saucer. “Don’t be silly. It’s only a friendship. He is courting Lord Evendaw’s sister, as I understand matters.”
He would be once her grandmother passed the word around her gossipy friends. That left only the problem of the admiral and Viola’s determination never to marry again.
Not to an admiral.
Not to a viscount.
Her one great wish was to finally be free of Samuel Cartwright and live her life in happiness. Viola didn’t need another child—she had her son. Which meant, she had to do now what she should have done last fall.
“Oh, yes, that would be a much better match,” her grandmother observed with a trace of sadness. “Appropriate, though I haven’t seen much of a spark between the two. Now, I’d best lie down before we go to dinner at Lady Gracie’s."
Viola swallowed her groan. Of all her grandmother’s favorite companions, Lady Gracie was the worst. Yet, Harper had sent her to London with a twofold mission. Furnish the townhouse she and Edward had rented to replace the one that had burned down and spend three weeks courting Gran’s friends. Viola would do anything for her sister—except remarry—and any ladies who could be won to support the new earl and his wife in society were a must-visit. There was no avoiding a visit across Mayfair.
Still, with her grandmother napping and permission to take more money than Viola had ever held at one time in her life, this was the ideal time to take a cab to Bow Street and seek out Reed.
12
