Conbatten straightened his cuffs. “Very well,” he said. “Keep in mind though, when you do re-engage Baderston, the matter will pertain to hiswife.”
“Curse it,” Setterdown said. He took a pistol from his second and fired into the air.
“The matter is settled,” Conbatten said. “God help the man who ever drags me into another such situation. I will not be nearly as good humored about it.”
Viola threw herself into Roland’s arms. “And we, my love, are off to Gretna Green.”
Roland picked her up and carried her toward her carriage. “Let us be off this minute.”
The earl’s coachman stood there with folded arms. “You could not torture me or put a pistol to my head to take you to Scotland, Lady Viola. I will drive you home and nowhere else.”
Of course, he should have thought—the earl’s coachman would hardly drive the earl’s daughter to an elopement.
“Never mind,” Roland said, “we’ll take Conbatten’s coach.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” the duke said. “You will very sensibly approach Lady Viola’s father and state your intentions. If he’s willing to overlook your current appearance and the events of this morning, I daresay he will consent to the marriage.”
Lord Baderston set Viola down. He looked into her eyes and she instantly perceived that he asked for her opinion on Conbatten’s words. She nodded.
“Consent to it?” the dowager cried. “After the outrageous behavior of that girl, the earl ought to beg for it.”
Lady Viola kissed Lord Baderston’s cheek and walked to the lady. She hooked her arm through the dowager’s. “The problem with you, Countess, is that you are very stubborn. I love your darling son to the ends of the earth and back and come with a respectable dowry. Certainly you cannot wish for more than that?”
“Of course I can,” the dowager said. “Lady Clara was pliable and easily guided. That is what was wished for. I could have molded her into a proper mistress for Trewellian Hall.”
“Oh, I see,” Lady Viola said, laughing. “You wished to have your own way. Well, I will give it to you as much as I can.”
“Let us go at once to your father,” Roland said. “Mother, you can acquiesce or not, you can rejoice or not, you can adapt or not. It matters little, as I am determined to marry Lady Viola and if her father refuses, wewillrun off to Scotland.”
Roland paused. “We will, is that right?”
“I am sure he will agree,” Lady Viola said. “Of course, if he did not, we would certainly run off. We will not be stopped in this matter. Not by anybody.”
“There you have it,” Roland said. “We will not be stopped. Return to the house and if you find you remain disagreeable, return to the dower house in Dorset.”
The dowager sniffed, but she did not reply.
Roland looked down at his lovely fiancée. “Gad, this morning turned out far better than I thought it would.”
*
Viola sighed happilyin her dear Lord Baderston’s arms. They were in the carriage, with Conbatten and Miss Mayton as ersatz chaperones, on their way to Portland Place.
The duke and her aunt were doing a wonderful job of not paying attention, which was well, as their behavior was rather shocking. Once they arrived home, they would acquaint the earl with the remarkable events of the morning.
Lord Baderston kissed her long and deep. What a marvel it was.
Viola realized that all the imagination in the world could not approach what it really was. She was a little startled to realize that she had just started to imagine Lord Baderston with his clothes off.
“We ought to marry soon,” Viola said.
Lord Baderston nuzzled her neck and said, “Very soon.”
“Perhaps we ought to run off to Gretna Green even if my father gives us leave to marry. He shouldn’t mind, I do not think.”
“Whatever you wish.”
Conbatten sighed and said, “I expect hewillmind.”
