Page 10 of A Suitable Countess (To All the Earls I’ve Loved Before #3)

Viola didn’t want to appear greedy, but the thought of waiting even for the time it took to select items to make a polite plate was too much.

Her stomach ached at the smell of the pie, and the fresh, sweet scent of the strawberries was too much.

Her hand darted down and she took a strawberry, biting the plump fruit in half.

Slightly tart but still sweet, the taste hit her tongue and drew a soft groan of pleasure from her lips. “You’d best take some of these now before I eat them all.”

Viola offered the bowl of strawberries to George before noticing his gaze was riveted on the half-eaten fruit in her hand. Or perhaps he looked at her lips.

“My apologies, George. I—missed eating breakfast this morning.”

George took a single red globe from the proffered bowl, bit into the plump fruit, and waved off the rest. “Feel free to indulge your pleasure in them. I’m partial to a pie myself. May I serve you a piece?”

At her assent, he cut a large wedge, put a fork on the plate beside it, and set it down in front of her. “I would not wish to see you faint away from hunger.”

“You take that piece, George. It’s far too big a slice for my delicate female appetite.”

“Not if you missed breakfast. And if you finish it, I’ll give you what we don’t eat from the hamper to take home.”

“Why?”

“So your siblings can enjoy more than just the biscuits you hid in your reticule.”

Her hands flew to her cheeks. “You saw that?”

“Viola, you could have just asked me, you know. I would happily provide more, but I think you enjoy a bet, so—”

“Why do I have to eat this piece of pie?”

“Knowing you can take this food back to your siblings, I don’t trust that you will eat anything if I don’t watch you eat it now.”

“Surely that is my choice.”

“True, but having met Lady Marie, I suspect both of you often give up your servings so your younger siblings may eat. She is so slim she will soon be gaunt and you—” Unusually for George, he failed to finish his sentence, merely picking up the plate with the slice of pie and offering it to her.

“Finish that piece of pie and give the rest to your family tonight.”

Her mouth watered as the scent of meat pie filled her nose, and her hand rose of its own volition.

“Every crumb, mind,” George said, and sat back with his cup of ginger beer, watching as Viola cut the end off her slice of pie.

“I feel self-conscious with you watching me.” And inhibited. Viola’s stomach demanded she feed it as fast as possible, but a lady was supposed to eat delicately, in birdlike quantities.

“Will it help if I say I approve of a healthy appetite?”

Perhaps. And Viola couldn’t resist. She devoured the first forkful and readied another, relishing the lightly spiced meat filling, and the light,flaky top crust.

By the time she finished her serving, George was offering a plate of sandwiches. “Do try these. I promise they are not cucumber. I loathe cucumber sandwiches, so my cook never prepares them unless I request them for a guest. I guessed you would not like them. Should I have asked for them?”

Viola shook her head. “The only thing they have to recommend them is the crunch when freshly made. Other than that, I find them flat and tasteless. Is that one cheese?”

“It is.”

By the time George was satisfied she had eaten sufficiently well that she was not going to faint away, they had demolished barely a quarter of what had been packed.

Viola looked at the remaining food and then met George’s eyes. “You planned on this amount of food to give me what we didn’t eat, didn’t you? Did you also plan to make that bet with me?”

He shrugged, clearly unembarrassed that she’d seen through his plan. “It seemed the simplest way to ensure you accepted. It’s not charity, Vi. Just ordinary human decency.”

“There is nothing ordinary about it, nor is it common. But as far as charity goes, it is a charitable action, and my sisters and brother will feast tonight. Thank you. You are a very decent human being.”

He waved away her thanks. “It is a simple act. I am in a position to make a difference, and I choose to do so. You should not read more into it than that.”

“Many others are also in such a position, but they do not act as you do.” She looked down at her folded hands. “I almost didn’t attend the Melton ball, you know.”

“That would have been my loss.”

“You danced with many young ladies, all of whom would have enjoyed your company, and yet, you chose to follow up on me. Why, George?”

“Not one of them was half as interesting as you.”

Her lips twitched, and she met his gaze. “You mean not one of them would have risked her reputation by dressing up as a man and entering a gambling hell, don’t you?”

“I didn’t know that about you then, but there was something in your eyes, the way you looked at the people in that ballroom, that attracted me. I asked Lady Melrose for an introduction.”

“Oh.” She’d assumed Lady Melrose had simply been doing her duty as a good hostess. Knowing George had sought her out made her feel strange; hot and unsettled and wanting more.

Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Shall we go for that walk now?”

“An excellent idea.” He offered his hand and, when she rose, he set her hand on his arm and covered it with his. It should have made her feel safe; it was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all, and Viola knew she could walk safely by his side over the uneven ground.

But touching him now, after last night’s kisses, and his revelation that he had asked for their introduction upon first espying her, that touch took on a whole new meaning.

She was aware of him in ways she’d never felt before.

Her body zinged at the thought of kissing him again, but the way he covered her hand where it rested on his arm felt protective.

Comfort and lust.

The two reactions should have been at odds, but they chased one another through her body, neither winning nor losing the race, each making the other stronger.

Would George know if that was normal, with his experience of the world? Could she ask him?

“George, I feel we can talk about anything.”

“And everything. I confess I’m relieved. I had hoped, without high expectation of finding, someone to converse easily with.”

That stopped Viola. “You have a list of requirements? What else is on it?”

“Hmph. I hadn’t thought of myself as fulfilling a wish list, but now you ask the question, it is obvious I must have had one. Let’s see—”

While he pondered, they strolled along the riverbank where the ground was soft towards a willow.

Delicate fronds reached for the water, as though admiring their reflection in a mirror.

A pair of ducks skimmed the surface and landed with a splash in the middle of the stream, sending wavelets that disrupted the tree’s reflection.

George stopped where a branch grew out at an angle that made a natural place to sit and drew Viola down beside him.

“I enjoy good conversation, not the fatuous remarks generally found in a ballroom; discussion such as you offered over supper, and which gave me hope. My mother was an excellent countess beside my father, and not just for her good works, which she continues to this day. She has compassion for those who depend on my family for their livelihoods.”

“Your mother’s example sounds inspiring and a challenge to live up to.”

Niggling doubt crept into Viola’s mind. In her desperation to do right by her family, she hadn’t thought beyond marriage, however there would be other challenges—many others, depending on her good sense and management—if she were to wed the earl.

She had never managed a household, let alone an estate and the many people who lived on it.

Could the daughter of a mere baron live up to such expectations?

“Certainly, to be a good countess requires a strong-minded woman.”

“What else?” Did he think she was strong-minded despite finding her in men’s garb, gambling? Surely it was impossible he thought she was the right stuff to be a countess, so why was he still talking, let alone picnicking with her?

“My wife’s suitability to fill my mother’s role is my primary goal, but—”

“But what, George?”

“Duty is important. You have shown that to be uppermost in your mind by your actions, risky as they were. But duty should not be all-consuming. I believe there must be room to pursue other interests.”

“Such as your explorations.” Viola nodded. “I’m beginning to understand.”

“Good. In addition to my marriage providing a suitable countess and securing my family line, I want companionship and physical compatibility.”

There it was again. “By physical compatibility, you mean—kissing?”

As far as she was concerned, they were entirely compatible in that area.

“And in the bedroom. Not that such activities need be confined to one room. Indeed, they do not need to be confined within doors.”

There he went again, talking about the bedroom with her. He was a most unusual earl. Indeed, he was a most unusual man.

“I thought— do you mean anywhere one can lie down? Like in your carriage?”

George’s lips quirked up. “One does not have to be horizontal to indulge in those pleasures. Oh, Viola, I am going to enjoy introducing you to the delights of marriage.”

She looked into his eyes, seeking answers. Seeking reassurance and hope she might, against the odds, have secured her family’s future. “That sounds as though you have made a decision.”

“We agreed to get to know one another better, cerebrally speaking. As far as physical intimacies go, last night gave me hope.”

“Will you think me bold if I confess how much I enjoyed kissing you too?”

“Oh, Viola, you really are one of a kind.” And then he drew her onto his lap, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

If last night made her feel hot and bothered and fed her dreams, today’s kisses shattered her into a million sparkling pieces.

His tongue dipped into her mouth, and she found herself sitting on his lap, her arms twined around his neck and his holding her close.

She liked this position much better than sitting beside him as she had in the coach. More of her body was in touch with his. His body was warm and hard where hers was soft, and she wriggled, trying to get closer.

“Don’t.” George’s arms clamped around her, stopping her moving.

“I need to.”

“You really don’t, Vi. Not yet.” He sucked in a slow, deep breath and gently set her back on the branch.

“But—”

“That need must wait until after marriage vows are exchanged.” He stood and walked to the edge of the riverbank where he stood gazing out over the water.

Viola gazed longingly at the river, wishing she could just jump in, clothes and all. While his back was turned, she sat on the branch and wriggled. Squirmed really, because he’d set her body on fire and she had no idea how to put it out.

He turned back, and Viola froze mid-squirm. Heat filled her cheeks, but George grinned.

“I believe we have established our physical compatibility.”