Page 9 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
“And this is how it shall always be for you.” He held out his arm, obviously intending to treat her as a lady and escort her inside.
“Oh.” She glanced at his forearm a moment before setting her hand on it.
Her insides curled.
The man was not only handsome as sin, but he was treating her as a fine lady.
Remember your place, Viola.
You are to be his cook.
But he led her into the parlor and offered her a seat in one of the elegant silk chairs before ringing for his butler. “Are you certain we ought to–”
“Yes, I am certain. We have work to do and it is best done here where my staff can see us and know we are doing nothing improper.”
“When will you take me to the kitchen?”
“After we have made our guest list. I am not going to introduce you to my kitchen staff before we are certain there will be a weekend house party.”
She cleared her throat. “All right, but just note that it is your guest list and not mine.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Fine, I stand corrected.Mylist, not yours. I see that you are carrying a bag with you. May I ask what’s inside?”
She nodded. “I’ve brought along several London newspapers known for the gossip they report.”
He cast her another devastatingly attractive grin. “Why Miss Ruskin, I had no idea you indulged in their lurid tattle.”
“Actually, it is my father who is the gossip fiend,” she said with a merry lilt as she drew them out and handed one over to him. “These papers assist him in preparing his sermons. Fertile fodder, he calls it. There is always something sinful to be found in them. Adultery mostly, but also theft, hubris, dishonoring thy parents, an occasional Upper Crust murder. But they also hold useful information, such as who are this year’stondiamonds.”
“Ah, that is helpful. We are to pore over this list of diamonds and then invite several of them to tempt me out of my grief?”
She nodded. “Yes, just a few this time. To invite them all would overwhelm you, I should think.”
“Especially since I don’t want any of them here.” He raked a hand through his hair, obviously not liking the chore. “Who do you suggest?”
Her eyes widened. “Me? I don’t know the first thing about these debutantes or their families. You are the one who has been out in society.”
“I am the wrong person to trust with that decision. At the moment, I do not know what is up or what is down. I intend to leave the decision to you, for you have good intuition about people.”
“I do not have special powers,” she said with a vehement shake of her head. “If I did, I would be playing the horses at the Newmarket races and setting aside my winnings for a comfortable future for myself.”
He chuckled at her jest. “Do not dismiss your instincts. They are quite excellent. Do you think I have not noticed?”
They paused in their conversation while his butler, one of her father’s regular congregants, a kindly, older gentleman by the name of Mr. Greaves, scurried in. “My lord?”
“Tea and refreshments for me and Miss Ruskin.”
“At once my lord,” Mr. Greaves said, hurrying off before Viola had the chance to greet him.
But it was not long before he returned, rolling in a large tea cart. To her surprise, it was quite finely laden with an assortment of cold meats, cheeses, fruit, and cakes, in addition to tea. The cups, plates, and silverware set out were of the finest quality.
Perhaps too fine for her.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Greaves. You scurried away before I could properly greet you. How are you today?”
Apparently, it was not done to speak to the servants, something she realized when he looked upon her in obvious surprise and then turned to the viscount for guidance as to whether or not he should respond.
The viscount nodded.
