“I understand,” said Isobel. “I see it very plainly.”
“Please don’t raise your brows insinuatingly.” Viola pushed the sugar bowl across the table, avoiding her friend’s eyes. “It’s only temporary. Until Papa finishes his symphony and we find new accommodations. I agreed to accompanythe Delamar sisters to social occasions, to serve as their companion and confidante. I’m doing this for them, not for the duke.”
“But is it advisable to live next door to him?” Della asked.
“Only be careful, my dear. I don’t want you to have exchanged the wolf’s fangs for the lion’s jaws,” Isobel said.
“Especially given your feelings about the duke,” Della agreed.
“Oh that?” Viola said breezily. “That’s all over and done with. I had a silly infatuation and it’s completely gone now. He’s engaged to be married, after all.”
Della and Isobel exchanged meaningful glances.
“Will you be safe?” Della asked.
“Westbury would never importune me in any way.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about your heart,” said Della. “We know you to be warmhearted and giving to a fault. You always put others’ needs before your own. Is this the right move for you? Not for your father, or the duke, or his sisters. For Viola.”
“It’s already arranged. There’s no backing out now. I’m in no danger.”
Isobel snorted. “You do know that you’re deluding yourself, right? You’re not going to be able to ignore that handsome beast of a duke.”
“I can certainly control my own mind,” said Viola.
“Yes, but can you control your heart?” asked Della.
“You won’t have difficulty keeping your emotions under control?” prodded Isobel.
“Not one bit.”
“Your heart doesn’t thump like an orchestral percussion section when he’s near?”
“Not one little tap on a kettle drum.”
“Please take care. That’s all we ask,” said Della.
“Stop worrying. You sound like a bunch of mother hens. I’ve been hired to complete a task and complete it I shall. I won’t be at all distracted by the duke’s broad shoulders, buckskin-clad thighs, or smoldering blue gaze.”
Wait, that had sounded... suspicious.
She schooled her face into her best schoolmarm expression of detached geniality. “The duke means nothing to me. It’s all very tidy and manageable and straightforward.”
“If you say so,” Isobel said, looking unconvinced.
“I’ll be perfectly safe,” she reassured her friends. “The duke’s not dangerous. I can manage him, just as I manage his sisters.”
West had had enough of managing his emotions and restraining his thirst for vengeance. His encounter with that sneaking cowardly baron had primed him for bloodshed. He’d wanted so badly to break the man’s nose, leave him with some permanent mark for attempting to force himself on Viola.
He saw her again, so small, so brave. Fury blazed through him until he could barely breathe. What if he hadn’t arrived? He couldn’t thinkabout it. He had arrived. She was safe. And she would remain safe. He’d see to that.
He’d only held back because broken noses were gruesome, messy affairs and Viola wouldn’t have liked blood sprayed across her sofa.
There were no sofas here. Only a wood plank floor sprinkled with sawdust to soak up the blood and sweat. Here he could indulge his bloodlust.
Indulge it with one target in particular: Laxton.
He didn’t usually go in for these tame bare-knuckle boxing establishments where lords paid to be trained in the pugilistic arts, but he’d found out that Laxton came here every Tuesday afternoon.