His mother might, but that lady had not proved herself very helpful and Viola trembled at the thought of going to her. What was she to say? She was currently a nobody to the dowager. A not approved of nobody. In fact, her standing would have sunk even lower than it had been with the lady. The dowager would have heard the rumor by now.
“Perhaps we do nothing at all,” Miss Mayton said. “After all, I am certain that the talk will dwindle and disappear once you are married. You will be a countess and the elevation of it will tamp it down. A countess whose sister is a duchess—who would dare slander you then?”
Her aunt was probably right. But, he had not yet asked! When would he ask?
“That’s it, then,” Juliet said. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for, but you’ve just got to hurry him up.”
“I agree,” Cordelia said.
“But how to hurry him?” Viola said. “I believe he knows my inclinations, what else can I do?”
“Perhaps you will need to be direct,” Miss Mayton said. “As we’ve seen in past seasons, gentlemen are not the sharpest needles in the sewing box. Subtlety appears to be lost on them—we need a proverbial hammer to the head.”
“Hammer to the head?” Juliet asked. “I like that idea—I will write an ode about it.”
Tattleton opened the drawing room doors. “Lady Hightower, my lady.”
Viola leapt to her feet, as did her sisters and Miss Mayton. Lady Hightower was about the last person she expected to visit. She did not know the lady over-well—she had only met her at Almack’s and then played at her musical evening. Of course, she did know that the lady was a great friend of Conbatten’s.
Viola felt herself deflating just a little bit, when she contemplated that Lady Hightower may have come to express her displeasure. Her musical evening had come and gone, but perhaps she wished to say that if she had known about the talk going round, she would not have invited Lady Viola Bennington.
“Lady Viola, Miss Mayton, I hope I do not intrude,” Lady Hightower said.
“Goodness no, we are very pleased to see you,” Viola said.
“And these must be your younger sisters? I remember them from the park last season. During the pickpocket incident.” With a barely suppressed smile, she said, “Your sister’sdarkest hour, if I recall correctly.”
Viola certainly remembered Rosalind writing of her darkest hour to Lady Hightower afterwards. She just did not know why it seemed Lady Hightower thought the sentiment was amusing. She clearly did, as this was the second time she’d referred to it.
Viola’s sisters had curtsied low. Viola said, “Indeed yes, these are my youngest sisters—that is Lady Juliet and this is Lady Cordelia. Tattleton, do send in a tea tray.”
“It is already being prepared, my lady.”
The butler closed the doors in his most elevated and grave style.
“I will be direct, Lady Viola, as I do not have the first idea how so many people stumble through life being indirect.”
Viola nodded, though she was rather frightened of what direct thing she was about to hear.
“I will allow your younger sisters to stay and listen. They will have their own seasons and perhaps they will learn something from what has transpired recently.”
Cordelia and Juliet did not look quite as eager as they usually would when not being sent off.
“Murder!” Chester shouted from his cage.
Lady Hightower jumped and clutched her fichu.
“I am sorry, Lady Hightower,” Viola said hurriedly. “Chester does not mean anything by it. He heard me mention a tea tray and now he will expect almonds.”
Tattleton once more opened the doors and let in two of the footmen with the trays.
“Murder, murder, murder!” Chester shouted enthusiastically, hopping from one claw to the other.
Tattleton swiftly took a bowl of almonds from one of the trays and threw its contents into the cage.
“Bad man,” Chester whispered.
“There now,” Miss Mayton said, “he will quiet for a time.”
