Keith touched her hand briefly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She jolted when the butler announced the dinner would be served in an hour. Violante had barely time to go upstairs and change. This time, she asked for Mrs. Collins’s help to speed things up.
Mrs. Collins tugged Violante’s dress up her body with a brusque gesture as Violante stood behind the screen.
“Careful,” she said. “The fabric might rip.”
“Well, you’re rich enough to buy another one.” Mrs. Collins made short work of buttoning the dress. “Unless the money is fake as everything else.”
Violante didn’t care about being addressed as Lady Ashford or about the curtsies, but Mrs. Collins crossed the line. “You should mind your tone.”
“Or what? You’re forcing me to lie.”
“You accepted Lord Ashford’s money for that.”
Mrs. Collins finished buttoning the dress, scoffing. Then she left without a curtsy.
Violante partly understood Mrs. Collins. She’d been asked to lie to an Italian count. Money or not, if the ruse was exposed, she’d be in trouble. Although she could leave whenever she wanted. Keith didn’t force her to stay.
He entered the bedroom, wearing a freshly pressed suit. “Is everything all right? I met Mrs. Collins in the hallway, and she looked furious.”
“Nothing you need to be concerned with. Instead, did you notice Sir Nigel?” she asked. “He had a strange expression.”
He straightened his cravat. “He met Paul years ago at Hampstead, so he might dislike the idea of dining with two former servants. But I agree. Something is going on. The way hestared at you and Paul worries me.” His expression softened as he looked at her. “You are lovely as usual.”
“You look dashing, too.” She rose from the vanity and tugged at the decorative sash around her shoulders.
“Please don’t.” He moved the sash aside to stroke her naked shoulder, leaving a trail of fire on her skin. “I prefer when you undress yourself.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Actually, so do I, when you’re around.”
“I like that.” He kissed the crook of her neck, and she sighed shamelessly.
His lips had cast a spell on her because whenever he kissed her, she wilted and wished for more.
The dinner gong rang out, reminding them they didn’t have much time. He held the door open for her.
In the corridor, he leant closer to whisper in her ear, “When we are alone?—”
Whatever he meant to say was cut off by Sir Nigel who brushed past them down the stairs. He bumped into her, hitting her back with his elbow, and didn’t apologise.
“Ouch.” She nearly lost her balance and gripped the bannister not to fall.
“Excuse yourself!” Keith snapped at Sir Nigel, steadying her.
“Is ‘bugger off’ all right?” Sir Nigel strode towards the dining room.
“Ass,” Keith hissed.
“Leave him. Don’t fall for his baiting tricks.” She hooked her arm through his. “Focus on the count.”
