Page 21 of One Night of Scandal
Viola rolled her eyes and gave her head a tiny shake, trying to communicate that it didn’t matter. She may as well dance with Lord Orford as anyone.
But she’d rather dance with Jack Barrett.
Good Lord, where had that thought come from? From the dark corner of her mind, apparently, and it could go right back there.
Searching for something to occupy her errant brain, Viola realized Lord Orford was a member of the House of Commons. He was the Viscount Orford, but it was a courtesy title. He sat in the Commons, while his father, the Earl of Debenham, sat in the House of Lords. Perhaps Orford could be helpful…
“What news from the House of Commons, my lord?” she asked prettily.
He looked down at her, a slightly perplexed glint in his eyes. “You can’t possibly be interested in such things.”
Viola resisted the urge to trip him. She did, however, grind her teeth together behind her tightened lips. Felicity shot her a look that reflected Viola’s irritation.
“Why not?” Viola asked. “I like to be informed. All this business with the march in Manchester and the riots last fall. Every citizen should be aware of what is happening. I should dearly love to know what happened with the attack on the Prince Regent. I can’t help thinking there is more to that incident. Why don’t we know who was behind it?”
Viola watched his face for the slightest inclination that he might know something. Had his eye twitched? Yes, she thought maybe it had.
He waved his hand before his face, and she saw the insect he batted away. Perhaps that was the reason for the spasm. Or not.
He frowned deeply. “That was a dastardly incursion. Whoever was responsible should be hanged.”
“Shouldn’t they be arrested first? Tried, perhaps?” Felicity said.
“Yes, of course. I said the responsible party should be punished, and the wordresponsiblepresumes they are guilty.”
Viola couldn’t help pushing him to see where he stood. “The suspension of habeas corpus is dangerous.”
“I don’t disagree. However, these are dangerous times, and we must keep everyone safe. I’d much rather suspected radicals are removed from the streets than left to organize another attack such as the one against the Prince Regent.”
“What if the radicals didn’t organize it?” Viola asked. “I mean, we don’t really know, do we?”
Felicity peered at her around the viscount, her gaze sparking with curiosity.
Lord Orford shot Viola a look of amusement. Amusement? He found her funny? “What have you heard, Lady Viola?”
The question took her by surprise. It seemed so…pointed. As if he knew she was referring to gossip she’d heard. Which, of course, she was. And now she presumed he’d heard it too. “I don’t know, what haveyouheard?” she asked coyly.
He narrowed his eyes for the barest moment—so briefly, she wondered if she’d imagined it, just as she’d wondered if she’d imagined the twitch. Then his attention snapped to somewhere down the path. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I look forward to seeing you later.” He bowed to each of them as they withdrew their arms.
“What was that about?” Felicity asked while they watched him depart.
“Oh, nothing,” Viola said, turning to return the way they’d come.
Felicity pivoted with her. “The attack on Prinny isn’t ‘nothing.’ Why were you asking Orford about it?”
Viola shrugged. “I just thought he might be in a position to know something. Wouldn’t you like to know what happened?”
“Wedoknow what happened. Some idiotic people shot at—or threw rocks, depending on whom you ask—the Prince Regent. I would like those people to be in prison so they can’t try again, but that doesn’t seem likely at this point.”
Viola didn’t agree with that observation, but then she knew more than Felicity on the matter. Perhaps she could confide in her…
“There’s my brother and Diana,” Felicity said. “I’ll see you tonight.” She clasped Viola’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am not above helping you come down with a ghastly illness or injury if you need it.” She winked at Viola and walked toward the Duke and Duchess of Colehaven.
Pensive after the conversation with Lord Orford, Viola looked down at the path as she took a few steps.
“Careful, there.” Strong hands clasped her elbows for a slight moment.
Awareness flashed through her. She knew that voice, that touch. Snapping her head up, she looked into the captivating walnut-colored eyes of Jack Barrett.
