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Westbury lifted him onto his shoulder and his chubby little legs dangled down.
“I’m so high!” Ambrose shouted gleefully. “I can see the entire park.”
“I spoke with Rafe before I left Paris,” Ravenwood said. “He asked me to check up on you while I was in London. I’ll send him a shocking report of your conventionality. I did some research about you and you haven’t done anything scandalous in weeks. You haven’t gambled away any more of your fortune, picked any fights with prize fighters, accepted any reckless bets, not even a hint of dalliances with courtesans. What gives?”
“I find myself with duties now. I’m making up for past bad behavior by being trotted around Hyde Park, allowing heiresses to ogle me and matchmaking mamas to smack their lips and make wedding plans. All for my sisters’ sake. I’ll reform just enough to see them all settled.”
“You know, we all warned our wives, before they were our wives, about you. We told them‘Stay away from Westbury. He’s dangerously depraved.’ If our past selves could see you now, we’d remove the warning label.”
“I’m still the same old Westbury,” West growled. “Dangerous as ever.”
“You can pretend this is only temporary respectability until your sisters are settled, but this looks like domesticity to me. Look at you with that child on your shoulder. Female hearts are melting across the park.”
He caught Viola gazing at him. She blushed a pink shade to match the gown she wore.
“Miss Beaton is blushing,” observed Ravenwood. “She’s such a charming young lady, I’ve always thought. One of my wife’s best friends.”
West didn’t reply. Best to remain silent. Ravenwood would see right through him if he opened his mouth.
“Banksford married his children’s governess,” Ravenwood remarked.
“Banksford could afford to marry a governess. I can’t.”
“It’s truly that bad?”
“Maybe I should try inventing steam engines.”
“Or you could turn to a life of crime. Art thievery, jewel heists, and the like. Course then I’d have to hunt you down and bring you to justice.”
“Banksford wanted to run one of his railways through Westbury Abbey at one point but I turned him down. I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life, Ravenwood.”
His friend searched his face. “I do believe you’ve changed, Westbury. There’s somethingdecidedly different about you. Might it have anything to do with sweet, pretty music instructors?”
Don’t answer that. Just keep walking.
Viola kept stride with her dear friend India, known as Indy, with difficulty, as her friend strode instead of walking at a normal pace.
“Damn these skirts.” Indy lifted her hem. “I have trousers underneath. Just waiting until we’re back at the house and I can peel off this hampering gown. How have you been since I’ve been away?”
“Father is nearly finished with his symphony, the ladies acquitted themselves admirably at a musicale yesterday evening, and I’m hard at work on a new commission.”
“I meant how are you feeling. You seem not quite your usual smiling self.”
“I’m grand.” Viola repeated the lie. She’d repeat it as many times as she had to in order to make it true. She couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom.
“You forget that I know you well. And I know when you’re lying to me. Is it about Westbury? I see the way you look at him.”
“Westbury is proposing to Lady Winifred Woolfrey today,” Viola said stiffly. “It will be an excellent match. Everyone approves.” Her brave facade crumpled and she clutched Indy’s hand. “And it’s all wrong,” she whispered. “I’m devastated. It’s tearing me apart.”
“Oh, Viola.” Indy stopped walking and gave her a hug. “I didn’t know you were in such pain.”
“It’s nothing. I’ll get over it.”
“You’re obviously in love with him. Doesn’t he love you back?”
“He’s too afraid of allowing himself to love. And I’m not duchess material.”
Indy shook her shoulders gently. “Don’t be silly. There are many kinds of duchesses. Take me for example.”
