Page 78 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
“No, Miss Ruskin. No sign of him.”
“That is odd. Is he in his study? Or his bedchamber?” The mention of his bedchamber had the kitchen girls giggling again.
“Stop it,” she ordered, rolling her eyes. “Perhaps he is setting up the archery targets.”
Horace shook his head. “No. Not at the archery match either. He rode off after breakfast this morning and no one has seen him since.”
Viola’s stomach sank into her toes. “Surely, someone must know where he went.”
“No, Miss Ruskin. He did not even tell Greaves or Mr. Wilson. I don’t think his parents know either.”
She wondered whether his disappearance was related to the trouble with Lady Alicia.
She was afraid to ask.
However, she breathed a sigh of relief when Horace rushed in once again shortly before supper to report the viscount had returned. “He’s ordered the tub brought up.”
Her girls started giggling again.
Several of them offered to carry up his water.
Others offered to wash his body.
“No such luck, ladies.” Horace winked. “Marston is guarding him like a hawk and will allow none of you within a mile of him. I’m sure he’ll lock his door this time. But I doubt he’ll be invaded now. Lady Aurora seems quite taken with Duke Nevins’ son and Lady Charlotte is too busy holding off Lord Hythe and Lord Gaston who both appear to be smitten with her.”
As preparations for tonight’s feast intensified, Viola dismissed thoughts of the viscount and his mysterious absence.
To her delight, and despite her distraction, the supper was a stunning success. She wasn’t certain how she had managed to pull it off while her heart was in such upheaval. But she had her pride and was not about to show any weakness to these Upper Crust guests.
Somehow, she had maintained her composure and could now breathe easier as course after course was delivered without a single misstep. The gingerbread chess board and marzipan chess pieces she had spent hours painstakingly shaping and painting with confectioner’s paste as the centerpiece of their dessert was a triumph, she was told.
Now, the house party weekend was almost over.
Most guests would depart tomorrow, taking their leave throughout the day. The viscount’s family planned to stay on a few more days at the viscount’s request, Sally had told her. “I’m sure of it, Miss Ruskin. I heard it from Lady Eloise herself. I don’t think Lord Hythe and Lord Chesterfield will stay on although Lord Ardley invited them to do so. Hythe’s going to follow Charlotte Nevins back to London, sticking to her like a glove to a hand lest some other bounder gains her attention. Lord Chesterfield needs to return to his estate which is in a sad state of disrepair. He’s another one who’ll have to marry rich to restore what his father squandered.”
Viola silently added herself to those who would leave tomorrow. Her cooking duties were over after tomorrow’s breakfast and she intended to return to the vicarage as fast as her legs would carry her.
As soon as the midnight dessert courses were carried out, she left the kitchen for a breath of air while the scullery maids cleaned up. There was little to do to prepare for the upcoming breakfast, so she had the rest of the evening to herself.
She ought to have been exhausted, for this day had been the longest yet. Instead, she felt relieved and also a little saddened that her obligation would soon be over. Would she ever see Lord Ardley after tomorrow? It did not matter, for it was best she keep away from him.
Her resolve not to peek into the music room where this second course of desserts had been set up proved utterly futile. She chided herself for her lack of spine. She had not been on the terrace more than a minute before the merry chatter and bursts of laughter coming from the guests, many of whom were merrily dancing to the strains of a lively reel, overcame her curiosity. Her resolve to have nothing more to do with Lord Ardley collapsed.
She had to see what he was doing.
Was he dancing?
Or off by the long tables set up against the wall and enjoying her desserts?
The marzipan chess set was not her only centerpiece dessert this evening. She had also fashioned a tennis cake baked especially for him and his badminton players. The fragile sugar net had required some finesse to set atop the layers without having it crumble to pieces.
She watched as his cousin, Lord Graelem, helped himself to a second serving of the cake. But all the desserts appeared to be successful, every pie cut into, and many guests digging in with gusto. The extra marzipan chess pieces she had included with this midnight course were all gobbled up, and even the tray of chocolate bakes she had made for this final dessert course was now sitting completely empty atop the buffet.
To her frustration, Lord Ardley had his back to her.
He was casually lounging against the wall, his back to her as he spoke to his brother. She could not see his expression to tell if he was upset or had taken the incident with Lady Alicia in stride and already moved on. Their party was now four members short since Lady Alicia and her family had departed yesterday just before the dinner bell sounded.
The other guests did not seem at all sad to see them go.
