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“And you’re being surly.”
“Please leave.”
“Not until I say my piece,” she said calmly.
The faded gray gown she wore couldn’t hide the pleasing curves of her generous bosom, a nicely indented waist, and the extravagant flare of her hips. Her nostrils were flared, as well. Her words were confrontational. but her eyes betrayed her emotions. She was terrified, poor thing.
And well she should be.
“You can save your breath if you’re here to convince me that I’m wrong.” He rose from his chair and stalked toward her. “I was just leaving.”
“Lady Blanche is inconsolable.”
“She’ll come round.”
“She won’t. She’s nursed this affection for LordLaxton for years now and she won’t easily abandon it.”
West stopped in front of his father’s desk. “I said I didn’t want that name spoken in this house.”
“But why—can you at least give me a reason?”
“He’s not a fit partner for my sister and that’s an end to it. I want her to marry someone who respects her, who holds her in esteem, and will never humiliate her. Now, if you’ll pardon me, Miss Beastly, I’m in no mood—”
“It’s Miss Beaton! My name is Viola Beaton. My father is Louis Beaton, the famous, or some would say infamous, composer.”
He knew her name. He couldn’t say why he pretended not to. Something about appropriate distance between an employer and his staff.
“You hired me, Your Grace. Please endeavor to recall my name,” she said primly.
“Viola suits you. You’re all scrolling curves and indentations and your voice has a mellow, husky musical quality.”
Confusion filled her eyes and she blushed prettily. “I, er, thank you?”
She was here to scold him. He wasn’t in the mood for forbidden flirtations. He gestured toward the door. “Good day, Miss Beaton.”
Resolve replaced confusion in her eyes. “Your Grace, your sisters adore you, you’re all the close family they have left, and this will break their hearts. Think of their feelings before you make any hasty decisions on their behalf.”
“I wasn’t aware that I required your blessingfor family decisions. I’m paying you a salary to instruct my sisters in music, nothing more.”
“You’re not paying me at all.”
He ducked his head. “I’m not?”
“Your butler told me that my salary has been delayed. It’s been delayed for months now.”
“A clerical error which will be remedied immediately. The point is, you’re not employed to lecture me.”
“I can’t stand by and watch you destroy your sisters’ lives. They’re good girls and they deserve better. You can’t just bring home a husband for Blanche and Bernadette like you would new gloves or a parasol.”
“It happens all the time. I’m finally doing my duty. That’s how society will see it.”
“You may do your duty, marry if you choose, but selecting husbands for your sisters instead of allowing them to find their own suitors is the most arrogant, wrongheaded...”
She stopped speaking abruptly. By the play of emotions across her face, and the decided lack of dimples, she was probably wrestling back several more insults. She took a deep breath that plumped her breasts against her bodice in a thoroughly distracting manner and curved her lips into a smile.
A man could become lost in those dimples and never find himself again.
“It’s not in their best interests, Your Grace,” she said sweetly, patiently. “Your sisters have been sheltered, as all noble young ladies are, from anything other than a narrowly dictated list ofacceptable occupations. They know how to stitch a Psalm on muslin. They know a smattering of French. They can play a piano sonata (some of them with more success than others). But they lack practical experience of the world. I know that you are fond of your sisters and wish the best for them.”
