Oh, but Lord Baderston would come and his mother was here. He might find he must attend her.
Viola was feeling exceedingly deflated upon considering that Lord Baderston would be taken up with ensuring his mother’s comfort.
Well, at least she would see him, if not spend much time talking to him.
“Lady Viola,” she heard behind her.
Viola turned slowly. She curtsied and said, “Dowager Countess.”
*
Roland arrived toLady Rawley’s house in good time and hurried into the drawing room to find Lady Viola.
The last person he’d expected to find was his mother. Worse, the lady was talking to Lady Viola. Why? What was she up to?
He made his way over, determined to interrupt whatever it was she was doing.
“Lady Viola, Mother,” he said. He looked at the dowager and said, “I did not know you would attend this evening.”
“Nor did I, until I had a second look at your calendar and found this added,” she said cooly.
Blast. Now she was snooping into his calendar and following him round London.
“Lady Viola was just going to accompany me to a chair, Baderston. Do get us plates—bring the lamb tartlets and a dry wine, if you please.”
Roland would really like to escort Lady Viola away in another direction. She was looking particularly smashing in a cream silk dress edged with seed pearls. What she wasnotlooking, however, was comfortable in the dowager’s presence.
Seeing as he could not steal Lady Viola away without somehow causing a scene and embarrassing her, he nodded and marched to the sideboard.
There was indeed a generous supply of lamb tartlets, which he’d fully expected there would be since the dowager was particularly skilled at sizing up a sideboard.
There was also ham, and Roland would not for the world allow Lady Viola to believe that he’d forgotten her fondness for it. In fact, he would get ham for himself too. It would make a statement. Of some sort.
He commandeered two footmen, as he could not carry three plates and three glasses at once.
From past theatricals, Lady Rawley had seemed to realize that it was a near impossible feat to eat from a plate and drink from a glass with no table to set things down on. She’d since arranged things more comfortably, with the rows spaced further apart and a small table in front of every four chairs.
As he led the footmen back, he noted his mother had set things up rather diabolically. Lady Viola was seated at the end of the row, with his mother on the other side. There would be no opportunity to sit next to her.
The dowager looked down at the plates set in front of her—one of lamb tartlets and one of ham.
Before she could comment, he said, “Lady Viola, I remember your fondness for ham, as I am very fond of it myself.” He looked determinedly at his own plate of ham to better make the point.
Lady Viola nodded. “You are very kind to remember it, Lord Baderston.”
“You can sit there, Baderston,” the dowager said, pointing to her other side.
Roland sighed. He had dearly hoped to find himself sitting by Lady Viola. He’d imagined they might whisper to each other throughout the performance. He might even accidentally brush her hand. He certainly had not the slightest interest in actually watching the play. He’d only come to be near Lady Viola. Now he found the dowager was to be between them.
“Elegant ladies and esteemed gentlemen,” Lord Iverson said from the stage. “If you would take your seats we are set to begin.”
Roland smiled. Lord Iverson had announced the beginning of the ill-fatedRomeo and Julietscene too, years ago. He supposed the fellow was a keen admirer of Lady Rawley’s theatrical stylings. Or perhaps just an admirer of Lady Rawley, as they were both widowed.
The lady herself was helped up to the stage and following her was her troupe of actors. Just like the last time, there was Lady Agatha and Mrs. Robinson.
But the last lady, trailing a dress that was far too long…Miss Mayton.
Gad, he’d been so taken up by finding Lady Viola with the dowager he’d not even thought to wonder where her chaperone was.
