AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Viola could tell her friend a thing or two about that.
“This one was rather more... sensual than the other two,” said their shy and bookish friend Lady Philippa Bramble. “Like a kettle boiling over and filling a room with steam. I had to fan myself as I was reading.”
“And my spectacles fogged up because I was breathing rather rapidly,” said Lady Beatrice Wright. “Ford asked me if I was feeling quite well. I’ll give it to him to read next. That scene with the candle wax... I had no idea.”
“I know. And that scene where the duke was taking a swim in the lake and then he emerged wearing that soaking white shirt that didn’t hideanything,” breathed Della.
Viola tried to follow the conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to her own recent steamy encounter. Which was probably far steamier than anything that had occurred in the book.
The things West had done. Her wanton response. And then the sensual spell had been broken and she’d crashed back into the real world where they could never truly be together.
“You’re very quiet, Viola,” Beatrice remarked. “It’s not like you.”
“I’ve been so preoccupied of late with my pupils, my father, and the Christmas carol I’m composing.”
“And with a certain duke?” teased Della.
“And how is that going? Is he as easy to manage and control as you anticipated?” Isobel asked.
“Not really.”
“I do hope you haven’t been kissing him,” scolded Isobel. “You know he’s an unrepentant rogue.”
“Ladies, why should we read about dastardly fictional dukes when Viola can tell us about real ones?” asked Philippa.
“Sometimes rogues give the best kisses,” Beatrice said. “I should know. Viola is no blushing young miss and if there happen to have been kisses—”
“I kissed him!” Viola blurted. She’d never been very good at keeping secrets. “I kissed him... and more.”
Several of the ladies moved their chairs closer.
“What do you meanand more?” asked Della.
“Do be specific,” urged Philippa.
“I was only trying to do the right thing. I asked him why he hadn’t proposed marriage to the perfect, respectable, and unobjectionable Lady Winifred Woolfrey yet and do you know what he said?”
“Never mind what he said... I want to know what he did,” said Philippa.
“His whole demeanor changed and he stared into my eyes and he said, ‘Viola, the reason I haven’t proposed to Lady Winifred is that she’s not you.’”
“Oh my.” Della placed a hand over her heart. “That’s dreadfully romantic.”
“I don’t think it’s romantic at all,” said Isobel. “It might be if he were a respectable, honorable man.”
“Oh but it was romantic, Isobel. It was. And I’m afraid I felt its effects most devastatingly and I tried to mount some manner of objection, but he swallowed my words with kisses and then I may have . . . I may have wrapped my arms around him and pulled him tightly into my embrace.”
The ladies stared at her.
“At least I think I did, or maybe he swept me into his arms, either way, I ended up being carried across the room in his powerful arms and then...” Viola paused. Perhaps she shouldn’t divulge the true details. But these were her best friends, after all. “He laid me down upon the bed.”
“You were in a bedchamber alone with him?” asked Philippa, eyes widening.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Miss Viola Beaton, did I not warn you about just such an occurrence?” Isobel scolded.
“You did—you certainly did. All of you did. I’ve no excuse. I don’t know what comes over me every time I see him. I can’t seem to control myself. He’s been so different lately. Almost as if he’s transforming into the duke I’d invented in my mind. The honorable, thoughtful one. He even purchased a special auditory aid for my father.”
