Page 41 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
“Alex! What in bloody blazes was that about?” His father also had fire shooting from his eyes. “Is this why you refuse to go to London? You already have this girl warming your bed?”
“I haven’t touched her, nor would I ever take a good girl like Viola outside of marriage. Don’t you dare speak of her that way. She’s the vicar’s daughter.” He strode toward the house, hurrying in through the front entry with his father trying to keep up and still tossing questions at him.
“A vicar’s daughter? Ruskin’s girl? What is she doing here?”
“Who do you think baked that game pie you inhaled last night?”
His father’s eyes widened. “That slip of a girl is your cook?”
“Mrs. Stringer is my cook. Miss Ruskin, whose skills are amazing, has only agreed to help out for the party. She’s testing out her recipes on me. We’ll be trying out her fish courses on the entire staff today.” He turned to Greaves who was standing by the front door since it was his post, and listening in on their every word. “I have asked Miss Ruskin to prepare a meal for all of you, Greaves. We’ll be taking comments afterward.”
His butler smiled. “Thank you, my lord.”
Alexander dragged his father into his study and shut the door behind them. “I do not need the entire world overhearing your questions. Care for a drink?”
Rain now pelted the windows.
Viola would have gotten that sweet, little body of hers soaked.
Probably caught a chill.
How was it wrong of him to look after her?
“A port wine for me, son.”
Alexander poured the same for himself, even though what he truly needed was something far stronger.
They settled in the large chairs beside the study’s hearth.
“Now,” his father said, pinning him with a glower, “tell me the truth this time. Who is this girl to you?”
CHAPTER 7
VIOLA’S HEART POUNDEDas she hurried into the kitchen to start preparing the fish dishes she had planned for the viscount’s party. Mr. Wilson had personally gone to the fishmonger this morning and obtained twenty plump, white fish that now lined the long tables in Ardley Hall’s enormous kitchen. Those fish were now waiting to be skinned and boned. “Mrs. Stringer, can your girls handle this work?”
“Yes, Miss Ruskin.” She turned to her kitchen staff. “Do as Miss Ruskin tells you, get those fish properly boned.”
Viola had known the dear woman all her life and never doubted they would get along well. More important, she felt comfortable speaking openly and addressing her obvious concerns. “Thank you, Mrs. Stringer. Now you and I should have a little talk. Is there somewhere quiet we may speak? It should not take long.”
“Yes, Miss Ruskin,” she said, her clasped hands giving away her distress. “Although I expect I already know what you wish to say to me. His lordship gave us the orders. We are to take our instruction from you today.”
Viola followed the woman into her private quarters. As head cook, she had a pleasant room all to herself just off the kitchen. Viola shut the door to give them privacy. “Mrs. Stringer, has he said anything about my working in the kitchen beyond today?”
She nodded. “He mentioned you would be in charge for his house party. I am to leave and–”
“No! You do not have to leave on my account. But it is important for me to be in charge of the kitchen during the house party.Onlyfor the house party. I promise you, my role here is limited to those few days and nothing more. I know he gave you the choice of a paid leave or remaining here. I want you to know you are welcome to stay, if this is what you wish. I will be glad for your help, but you must be willing to take orders from me. You cannot question my authority during those limited days or your girls will take their guidance from you and not listen to me. Can you do this?”
“I’m not sure…well, yes. For you, I would. Most certainly, for you.”
“I appreciate your honesty. If you choose not to stay, then I would have us speak to your staff together so they will be comfortable with me and take my orders while you are away.”
“Miss Ruskin, will you be truthful with me?”
Viola nodded. “Yes, I would never lie to you.”
Mrs. Stringer took a deep breath. “Are you sure his lordship does not intend to replace me?”
“Oh, most certainly not,” she rushed to assure her, for the woman looked genuinely stricken. “I give you my word of honor. My duty is to my father first and always. However, you know he is ill. I do not know what the future will hold for me, but it will not be to work in the viscount’s household in any capacity.”
