Page 73 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
Dear heaven.
Alexander went over to the sideboard to pour himself a drink.
Lady Alicia seemed to be holding herself aloof, not looking particularly interested in his friend, Lord Hythe, when the man approached her.
What was going on in her scheming brain?
He turned away and concentrated on pouring himself that drink.
Although he had been away from the marriage game for years, he still knew how to read people and recognized immediately the danger of this particular lady. She needed to be watched carefully. While all three approached the marriage mart with calculation, she was the one most likely to use nefarious means to accomplish her aims.
The other two ladies were easy to read, perhaps because they were both virgins. They used feminine wiles to tempt their young men, but were not offering their bodies. Yes, he could tell they had been kissed a time or two, but nothing more serious. Lady Aurora could very well land her duke in waiting and become a duchess someday. Lady Charlotte would find a titled gentleman who wanted acuddly-wuddlywife. There were such men who enjoyed a helpless female.
But Lady Alicia? That young lady was experienced and devious.
He dismissed thoughts of her when the luncheon bell rang.
He had never seen the elite of society sprint so fast toward the dining table. But this was Viola’s skill. By now, they all knew the repast was going to be spectacular. She served a white soup, doing something to the veal stock to enrich the taste, for they were all slurping it down so fast, they did not have time to take breaths in between. Several choruses of “I am going to abduct your cook” were heard from the elder ladies.
“Oh, no,” Lady Withnall responded. “She is to come directly to me if she ever decides to leave Lord Ardley. You are all too late. I have already arranged it.”
“Your cook is a woman?” Duke Nevins asked.
Alexander immediately tensed.
The men would not leave Viola alone once they saw how beautiful she was.
Fortunately, Lady Withnall was not above dissembling. “Yes, but I urge you never to trespass. She is ruthless in her kitchen and always carries a meat axe in her hand. If you dare to interrupt her while she is at work, she will use that weapon on you without the least compunction. She rules her domain like a tyrant.”
“She sounds grim,” Lady Aurora said.
“All great artists have volatile temperaments and she is clearly that,” his own grandmother replied. “Keep out of her way and she will not chop off any of your body parts.”
Duke Nevins harrumphed. “I have no quarrel with the old crone so long as she continues to prepare pleasing meals for us. But you may have her, Ardley. I do not permit anyone on my staff to behave as though they are above me. Such arrogance wreaks havoc on the expectations of the other servants. You shall have a revolt in your own home if you are not careful.”
Talk turned to the more pleasant topic of this morning’s shopping.
Lady Charlotte mentioned herLambykinsagain and began to make bleating sounds.
Lord save me.
Alexander had hardly touched his wine and reached for it now.
The luncheon meat was a rump roast flavored with sherry, the meat so tender it melted in one’s mouth. This was served along with a savory souffle that he inhaled in two bites the moment it was served on his plate.
After the meal, since the day boasted of spectacular sunshine and gentle breezes, the elder guests took seats on the terrace to watch the younger guests partake of lawn games. Croquet was set up on the side lawn for the ladies and their admirers to play. Since ladies were involved, the game would be lively but more or less sedate.
Meanwhile, Alexander, Gabriel, Graelem, and Lord Chesterfield decided on a doubles match of badminton, which was usually considered a sedate game, but not the way they played it. They treated their sets as more of a blood sport, where one side was determined to demolish the other. Bruises were not uncommon, and the object was to draw blood by striking one’s opponent in the nose or lip with the bird that got smacked around mercilessly. Neither was it uncommon for the players to wind up with a black eye. “Bachelors against the married men,” Lord Chesterfield called out.
Graelem laughed. “Done. You’ll live to regret it, Chesterfield. We married men still have a spring in us, as you weak bachelors shall soon find out.”
They were all exhausted and bloodied by the time the last game was called, none of them spared and none of them cared.
They’d had a good time.
Daisy and Laurel came over with moist handkerchiefs to tend to their husbands. “Idiots,” Laurel muttered.
“Monumental dolts,” Daisy agreed.
