Page 99 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
Alexander sighed. “All right, but I’ll be putting a stop to Viola’s work by four o’clock this afternoon. I won’t have her fretting over every detail or preparing the entire wedding breakfast herself. I have a staff for this.”
Gabriel patted him on the back. “Good luck with that. Daisy is as sweet natured as Viola, but even I know better than to get underfoot when she’s planning a party. You needn’t worry. The ladies will handle her. They all know tomorrow is her special day.”
“Are ye ready for it, Alex?” Graelem asked. “It has all come on quite fast.”
Alexander shook his head. “Not that fast, for it was two years in the making. I am more than ready now.”
As they rode across the countryside, Alex thought back to when he first began to notice Viola. She was born and raised in Ardley, a sweet child always helping out her father. He had liked her, but never looked closely at her while she grew into a young woman because he was married and not one to break his wedding vows.
However, by the age of fourteen, Viola was already considered the village beauty. She grew lovelier each passing year, and any man would have to be dead not to notice her charms. She was often surrounded by hopeful young men who sought to court her, but she never gave any of them encouragement.
As for him, the first year after the deaths of Jillian and Molly was a dark hole. He did nothing but work the Ardley properties and retreat to his study or bedchamber afterward. It was in the second year that he began to rejoin the living, attend church services on Sundays, and lend his presence to the various fairs and other events held throughout the year. Viola was always there, growing lovelier by the day, her smile always genuine and warm.
He found her occasional touch soothing, her food incredible, and her conversation always interesting. Her laughter was as sweet as a gentle summer breeze and somehow always lightened his heart.
And yet, she was shy.
She would never have revealed her feelings had he not taken to drinking himself into a stupor and passing out drunk in front of the vicarage. Was it only last month? Of course, he could have remained sober and simply walked down from Ardley Hall to begin courting her.
But he would not have taken that leap while sober.
Breaking from the past was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
The older ladies were having tea in the parlor when they returned from their ride. Knowing the household would be a turbulent hive of activity, he, Gabriel, and Graelem had stopped by one of the local taverns for sausage rolls and a pint of ale before riding back home.
His mother waved him in. “Ah, there you are. Where did you boys go?”
Alex shrugged as he responded for them. “Just tearing along the hills and valleys. Our horses needed the exercise anyway. Then we stopped to eat at the Wild Boar Inn. How are you ladies managing?”
“All is well in hand. The furniture has been moved out of the main rooms. Silver is polished. Viola’s gown alterations are done. Laurel and Daisy are upstairs attending to the last touches right now. They were going to join Viola in the kitchen once they finished. Perhaps they are there already. Viola, of course, is busy issuing instructions to Mrs. Stringer and her staff.”
“Instructions, my arse.” He shook his head and laughed. “I’m sure she is elbow deep in dough and preparing most of the dishes herself. I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” his mother called after him.
“To the kitchen, of course.”
Gabriel and Graelem followed him. So did the ladies.
Alex strode into the kitchen and came to a sudden stop. The others piled up behind him, knocking into him as they also took notice of the scene before them.
“I don’t believe this,” Gabriel burst into laughter.
The long tables were piled high with mixing bowls, baking tins, eggs, flour, herbs, fish, fowl, figs and plums. The ovens were going at full blast. Mrs. Stringer and her staff were chopping, boning, mixing, and the scullery maids were scrubbing out massive pans and handing them off to be reused. In the middle of all the commotion were Viola, Laurel, and Daisy, all three of them with their hands dug into large mixing bowls filled with dough.
“Blessed saints, that smells divine,” Graelem muttered, also breaking into laughter.
Pies were cooling all around them and more were baking in the ovens.
But what stunned them all was the presence of his father seated on a stool beside Viola as though it was a throne, chattering away as he pointed and nodded and tasted ingredients.
“What in blazes are you doing down here?” Alexander asked him. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? You are still nursing a sore back and an injured leg.”
His father looked up. “I’m helping, of course. Viola needed my advice. Besides, I am feeling much better today. Hardly a twinge to report.”
“Oh, lord.” He shook his head and laughed. Was this not the very man who had threatened to put an end to their wedding plans only yesterday?
Viola smiled up at him. “Care to help?”
