In the meantime she had to deal with the Earl of Winterton, who had just been insulted and practically ordered out of the library. Bracing herself, she turned to face him.
He had a right to be very put out; instead he was grinning, and as their eyes met, he began to laugh. In sheer relief, Viola gave a gasp of laughter herself.
“I’m sorry,” she began, trying to regain her dignity, but the earl waved one hand.
“For being a sensible adult in a room full of silly young people? I assure you, your offer of a tour could not have come at a more opportune moment.” He made a face. “I could almost feel myself aging and sinking into senility. In a few more moments I would have been relegated to dozing in the corner with a cap on my head, tended by a nurse.”
She laughed. She couldn’t think of anyone less likely to be found dozing in the corner in need of a nurse than Lord Winterton. Today he was even more handsome than before, if that were possible, his blue eyes dancing with mirth. “The young ladies are a trifle high-spirited at times.”
Winterton assumed a tragic expression. “I suppose I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young and full of life.”
“It looks very tiring,” she replied in the same grave tone.
His grin returned, and the rogue even winked at her. “For those around them, perhaps.”
Viola laughed again in spite of herself. She was astonished at her young cousins’ behavior, and was enormously relieved that the earl wasn’t taking them much to heart. She ought to have guessed that Lord Winterton, who appeared to be an intelligent and educated man, would seek out the library once confined to the house by the steadily falling snow. Tomorrow she would banish everyone from the room. Perhaps Bridget, if left to write her play without the sly goading of her sister, would embrace some form of sense, or at least hurry up and finish the silly thing.
“If you wanted a particular book, I shall have a footman brave the room to fetch it,” she said. “The Kingstag library is exceptional, and I’m sure it can supply something to suit you.”
Winterton stared at her with those blue, blue eyes for a long moment. “I rather fancy a tour of the house, as you suggested. If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh,” said Viola in surprise. She’d offered in desperation, to escape before Bridget said or did anything to give actual offense. “Of course not.” She gestured with one arm. “Shall we?”
He fell in step beside her, hands clasped behind his back. Viola tried to ignore the awareness that rippled through her. She had given many tours of the castle in her two years here; the duke and duchess entertained a steady stream of guests. This should be no different . . . but it was.
“The oldest parts of the castle date from the fifteenth century,” she began. “The first duke was given the land for his service to the crown. He was by then a rather elderly gentleman, but his grandson, the second duke, built the central part of the castle.”
“The Cavendish family has been in Dorset a long time.”
“Yes.” Viola opened the door they had reached. “This wing of the castle is relatively new, added only fifty years ago and hence quite modern. Here is the billiard room. Some of the young gentlemen have taken to playing in the evening.”
“A fine room,” the earl said approvingly, studying the carved mahogany table. It was a very masculine room, done up in the highest quality. Viola remembered her first reaction on realizing the castle held a room dedicated solely to one game—a game no one in the family played much—and quietly closed the door.
“I couldn’t help but notice your name is also Cavendish,” Winterton remarked as they walked onward.
Her shoulders stiffened involuntarily. She was used to this question, but he must know the answer. She was hardly the first poor relation to be taken in by a family, but it still stung, that reminder—even unintentional—that she had once been mistress of her own home instead of a servant in someone else’s. “Yes. My late husband, actually, was a cousin of His Grace.” She lowered her voice and gave a rueful smile. “A very distant cousin, not one tenth as grand.”
“Ah—no. I didn’t mean . . .” He grimaced, but with a sheepish grin that made her want to smile back. “I was contemplating how difficult it is to speak to my nephew, and wondering if perhaps you had any suggestions to offer me, since you seem to be in a similar position. Having to advise and reason with your younger relations, I mean.”
“Oh!” She made a small motion with one hand, embarrassed but also pleased. “I wish I could say yes, but it’s not really the same at all. We’re only distant relations, the young ladies and I, and they rightly look to their mother the dowager duchess, or even to the duchess herself, for advice.”
“But they don’t openly wish for you to leave the room,” he pointed out. “At least not in your hearing.”
Viola laughed. “Perhaps that’s because I have no real authority over them. It renders me utterly powerless to spoil any schemes or plots they may have.”
The earl tipped his head in thought. “Perhaps there’s something in that. On the other hand, Newton has only held his viscountcy for a few months. He’s in desperate want of counsel, whether he admits it or not.”
“I have long noticed that often, the more desperately someone needs guidance, the better it is to wait
