Viola felt herself droop. “Proper? You know as well as I do what that normally means, my lord. But you are not acquainted with the Duke of Wessex.”
Winterton hesitated. “No, I’ve never met him.”
“Then allow me to offer you some advice, when you do meet him.” She rearranged her feet on the fender. The fire was very warm. “He adores his sisters. He will throw over propriety and every rule of society to protect them, and a viscount who’s still wet behind the ears will be no match for him.”
“What are you saying?”
“I am warning you to tread carefully, and for heaven’s sake tell your nephew the same. The duke will not be pleased to learn he trifled with Lady Alexandra.”
“I imagine not.” The earl came another step into the room. “May I?” He gestured at the sofa. Viola waved one hand in assent, and he took a seat. Any fluttering awareness she had of the man should be entirely overwhelmed by the disaster that loomed before her.
Still, he sat very near her. When he stretched out his own legs, his boots brushed her skirts. As if from a distance she watched the fabric sway, then settle. Goodness; the port must be having an effect on her after all. She turned her head to look at the earl, and discovered him watching her.
She guessed what he would say. What ought I to do to keep the duke from calling out my nephew? Viola had not seen the Duke of Wessex in a temper often, but he was not a meek or indecisive man.
“What will happen to you?” Winterton asked instead.
It took a moment for the question to sink in, which then caused her to sink lower in the chair. “Me? I might be sacked.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” she said softly.
“Hear me out,” he responded, calm and unruffled. “Lady Alexandra has been flirting with Newton all week. Putting them together in the same house for days on end in a holiday spirit was bound to foster some interest between them. It’s only natural.”
“And it’s only natural that His Grace will be furious.” She sipped more port.
“But why would he sack you?”
Viola swirled her port, then drained the glass. “I ought to have kept a closer watch on Lady Alexandra.”
“And I on Newton.” Winterton blew out his breath. “His mother will have my head for this, you know. I thought I’d outgrown my fear of her, but tonight I am discovering that I have not.”
She peeked at him. He looked glum but serious. “His mother is your older sister?”
“By several years, and she entrusted her son to me on the condition I would teach him some restraint and dignity.” He grimaced. “She’ll box my ears and slap my face, just as she did when I scalped her favorite doll.”
Viola’s eyes went wide. “Scalped!”
For a moment something like guilty enjoyment flickered over his face. “I fancied myself an American native, like the ones I read of in travel diaries. They cut off their enemies’ hair, did you know? Anne can be a bit . . . managing, and at the age of six I decided she was my mortal enemy. Obviously I could not cut off her hair, but her doll . . .” He flexed one hand and shrugged. “It seemed a good idea at the time. She was too old for dolls then, yet she took it oddly to heart.”
Viola laughed. It was wrong to laugh, both at the story and because she might still be in an ocean of trouble, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed until her sides hurt and she was gasping for breath and her eyes were wet. And when she finally recovered enough to catch her breath, she discovered she’d crossed the line into sobbing at the end.
The earl had gone down on one knee in front of her. He held out a handkerchief without comment. Viola took it and blew her nose, loudly and miserably.
“Is there a chance you’re underestimating Wessex’s understanding and compassion?”
She rolled the damp handkerchief into a ball. “Perhaps. It will depend, I suppose, on what Lady Alexandra tells her mother. If the dowager duchess takes umbrage, she will urge the duke to do the same.”
“What will Lady Alexandra tell her, do you think?”
Viola thought of the set expression on Alexandra’s face as she went in to see her mother. “I expect she’ll say it was a trifle; some harmless flirting, a stolen kiss.”
“As it most likely was,” he pointed out.
Viola sighed. “She’s a proper young lady, the sister of a duke. She’s not at liberty to flirt with and kiss any young man she chooses.”
“No.” He looked down. “If I may repeat my question . . . What will you do?”
“If I’m sacked?” He gave a slight nod, and she put down her glass. “Look for another position.” She looked sadly around the room. “I’m very fond of this one, though. It will be hard to leave Kingstag.”
He nodded, rubbing his hands on the arms of her chair. Viola covertly watched. He had lovely hands, strong and big. “Would it reassure you,” he said very slowly, “if I promised you a similar position at the same salary?” She jolted, and he raised those lovely hands as if to calm her. “Only if you cannot find one more to your liking. I hate to think you might be brought low by my nephew’s actions, and thus by my own. I blatantly invited myself to Kingstag, and then I brought Newton with me. If there is blame to be laid, I must accept my share.”
“You don’t need to do that, my lord,” she murmured.
“But I want to.” One corner of his mouth tilted upward. “I want to very much, actually.”
Viola turned her gaze to the corner of the fender where her feet were propped. Do not become enamored of an earl, she
