Page 20 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
He eased away, dangerously aware of her body and her deliciously fruity scent. What was it? Peach? Apple? Strawberry? All his favorites. Perhaps a mix of all three. He didn’t know and didn’t care. He just wanted to lose himself licking her.
Oh, Lord.
He set her and the chair back in their proper position.
She was a light, little thing.
Probably delightful to carry in his arms.
“Why are you being so apishly protective over me? Afraid to lose your party planner? I have been climbing the stairs to the spire and walking on the roof for years without incident.” She nibbled her lip as he continued to scowl at her.
He emitted a low growl. “You are not to walk on that roof.”
“Admonished again. All right. Done. No more climbing for me, at least not until your man checks it out.”
“Nor afterward. Did you not hear what I just said? My responsibility. From here on out, you send for me.”
“Fine.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, not quite sure why he was behaving like a protective ape, just as Viola had accused. “Let’s talk about the last eight young ladies on the list. I did some research into each of their families last night.”
“Truly?” She looked at him in surprise.
“You assigned this homework to me, did you not?”
“Yes, but I did not think…excellent. And?”
“It is a good thing you brought more names over today.”
She groaned. “What is wrong with those eight?”
“Must I detail each one for you?”
“Yes, because it is obvious you are trying to find fault with all of them instead of considering them with an impartial eye. Are you certain all of them must be ruled out?”
“Two might do,” he grudgingly admitted. “Lady Charlotte Nevins and Lady Aurora Gaston.”
“Lovely names, Aurora and Charlotte.”
He shrugged. “Their families are decent. I know the fathers and brothers. All decent men.”
“Excellent. We are making progress. The parents must be invited, but I think you should also add their brothers to the guest list. This way, the young ladies you dismiss may set their cap for one of those brothers and not call the weekend a complete and utter disaster.”
He cast her a wry smile. “Thank you for that vote of confidence. It so happens, I intended to invite the brothers.”
“That is one issue easily resolved. You are not as hopeless as I imagined you to be.” She smiled at the footman who now entered with their soup course, a light, marrow broth. “Good afternoon, Horace,” she said to the young man as he served her. “How is your mother?”
Alexander nodded to the lad, allowing him to answer.
“Doing much better, Miss Viola. Thank you.”
“I’ll come around to see her tomorrow.”
“I’ll let her know. She’ll be pleased.”
Young Horace darted back to his position against the wall immediately behind Viola’s chair. Two other footmen also entered and now stood beside Horace.
Viola smiled at both of them. “Good day, Charles. Wallace.”
