Page 22 of One Night of Scandal
His hands were gone before she could begin to appreciate their warmth and security. Appreciate? She was going daft in the head.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Barrett,” she said.
“Good afternoon, Lady Viola. May I walk with you?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m just on my way back to my grandmother in her barouche.”
He offered his arm, and she grasped his sleeve. “I think we should visit the coffeehouse again,” she said without preamble.
“How are you today?” Mr. Barrett asked in a mockingly overinterested tone. “The weather is quite fine. Did you walk or ride to the park?”
She glanced over at him with a guilty smile. “Sorry. How are you today?”
“Very well, thank you. As to visiting the coffeehouse, I actually think we should consider abandoning our inquiries.”
Viola stopped and stared at him. “Why?”
“It’s a dangerous endeavor. We’re seeking a man who had no compunction about harming the Prince Regent. I doubt they would hesitate to commit violence against us.”
While that was true, Viola refused to be afraid. She was also disappointed in his change of heart. “The truth should be known. I thought you agreed with that.”
“I did. I do. But we are perhaps not the best people to investigate this situation.”
“If not us—no, not us,me—if not me, who?” She scowled at him and withdrew her arm from his. “Never mind. I don’t need your help. And before you threaten to tell my brother, I’ll tell him myself if I must.”
He expelled a breath. “You don’t need to do that. But will you please think about what I said? I understand how important it is to you to uncover this information and make it known, but surely there are other articles you can write.”
Nothing as consequential as this. She understood his concern, but this was too important. “I’ll think about what you said.” While she planned her next move—alone.
Mr. Barrett’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Do I need to worry you’ll show up at Brooks’s again tonight? I plan to be there, just so you know.”
Viola rolled her eyes, then started walking along the path toward her grandmother’s barouche. She’d looped around and was now on her way back. “You do not need to concern yourself. I will be at a ball with my grandmother tonight.” Dancing. The thought of it turned her stomach. And to think, she’d considered what it might be like to dance with Mr. Barrett! Right now, she’d like to tread all over his arrogant toes.
“What ball?” Mr. Barrett asked.
“Lady Goodrick’s,” Viola answered absentmindedly as she caught sight of her grandmother waving for her to come back to the barouche. “I’m afraid I must go. Thank you for this—informative—promenade.”
“Please don’t be angry with me. I only care about your well-being.”
She nodded, understanding but still feeling betrayed by his second thoughts. Turning, she returned to the barouche, where her grandmother was looking toward Mr. Barrett.
“Whom were you walking with?” Grandmama asked.
“Mr. Jack Barrett.”
“The barrister? No, he used to be a barrister and now he’s an MP. Barretts always hold that Middlesex seat.”
Viola blinked at her. “Grandmama, do you know everyone? Don’t answer that. I know you do.”
“I know his father. He was also a barrister and an MP and quite a brilliant legal mind. Your grandfather worked with him in Parliament on a few matters.” Grandmama fixed her with an expectant stare. “How do you know Mr. Barrett?”
“I believe Val introduced him to me.”
“Are you really going to make me squeeze every bit of information from you as if I were trying to take the juice from a lemon? Why were you walking with him?”
“Because he was there?” Viola knew what her grandmother was after. “He is not a suitor.”
“Good. You can do far better.”
