Page 84 of The Viscount and the Vicar's Daughter
She looked tired, quite delicate and vulnerable.
What was she thinking to attempt to manage this all on her own?
“I did not realize it would be quite the burden to carry my belongings home. But I am halfway there and will muddle on my own the rest of the way without your interference.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He took the bag and basket from her hands. “Do you wish to ride? You look exhausted, Viola. Truly, no jest. But I see you would rather collapse on the side of the road than be in my company. Shall we talk about last night?”
“No,” she said with a vehement shake of her head.
“Ah, I see. You wish to pretend nothing of what we are feeling for each other is real. Is that it?”
“There is nothing we can say to each other that will change anything. Last night’s kiss was a fanciful dream.”
“And our garden waltz? Your first kiss? All of it a fanciful dream?”
She nodded. “One of us has to be practical about it.”
“Practical? Is this what you think your running away from me is? I beg to differ. It is the most painful and impractical thing you can ever do. As you will come to realize, you cannot run from your heart.”
“Perhaps not, but I can do my best to rein it in.”
He shook his head and laughed softly. “You think you can rein in your feelings? Not you, Viola. Of all people, not you. Have you been crying?”
She frowned at him.
He caressed her cheek. “You look as though you have been.”
“I am fine. Perhaps I did not sleep as well as I might have last night.”
He set down the bags a moment to lift her onto Caligula because he had no intention of allowing her to walk the rest of the way home. Nor did he intend to mount behind her, something that would only set her off because she was a little powder keg of turmoil, afraid of her own feelings and wishing to blow him up to get him out of her life.
Too bad, because he meant to marry her. “You look like you were up all night crying. Why are you so overset at the prospect of a match between us? You would make an excellent viscountess. You were born for it.”
She shot daggers at him. “I haven’t been trained to take on this role and would humiliate both of us within an hour of our marriage. Why do you refuse to see this?”
“Why do you refuse to acknowledge your strengths? Your caring. Your grace of bearing. Your intelligence and compassion. Need I even mention your outrageous talent? I have never seen anything more splendid than the feasts you prepared, not even in the royal court.”
“Precisely. I may be an excellent cook, but this is all I will ever be to your friends and family.”
“Blessed saints, you are thickheaded. You would make Ardley Hall a happy place again and put all our guests at ease because you are kindness and warmth personified. There is no malice in your nature. We will be inundated with guests because they will all adore the food churned out of the Ardley Hall kitchen under your supervision, and they will equally enjoy your hospitality. No one will ever want to leave. They will accept you as my viscountess more readily than they accepted me as viscount.”
“But there are so many little things I do not know. Who is to be seated next to whom at the dinner table? Who is to be avoided and who must I invite? What about my clothes? I haven’t a single silk gown.”
“That tears it, how can I possibly marry you then? If only there was such a thing as a dressmaker’s shop where such a gown could be made,” he said with gentle sarcasm.
“You are mocking me.”
“Never, Viola. I am merely pointing out that your concerns are trivial and easily remedied.”
“They are not trivial to me.”
“Yes, they are. You called themlittleconcerns and this is precisely what they are. Inconsequential. Overcome with minimal effort.” Even Caligula whinnied and nodded his head as they ambled down the familiar road between Ardley Hall and the vicarage. “See, even my horse agrees.”
He glanced back at her and saw her lips curve in the hint of a smile.
Ah, progress.
“You mustn’t give up on happiness because you are afraid to embarrass me or yourself,” he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “I have been raised in society and am fully aware of the games played. Yet, I still fell for Lady Alicia’s ambush. If it can happen to me, experienced as I am, then anyone can falter. None of us is perfect. We all make mistakes at one time or another. The point is to acknowledge them, deal with them, and move on. And another thing–”
