Page 12 of A Suitable Countess (To All the Earls I’ve Loved Before #3)

In which our Heroine Feels Betrayed.

Viola pounced on the day’s letters as soon as the post was delivered and carried them into the privacy of the front parlour. She flicked through the scant offerings, seeking George’s handwriting.

Nothing.

Not from her parents, which she had come to accept as normal, nor, more worryingly for her current tenuous security, from George. The lack of any communication from him made her legs as wobbly as Cook’s blancmange, and she sank onto the closest chair.

Six days ago, he’d sent a note to say he had business to attend to and was unable to see her, but they could either ride or go for another drive, whichever she preferred, when he returned to town the following day.

Assuming out-of-town business referred to one of his estates, she hadn’t worried when the second day passed and he did not arrive.

Understanding from her father that estates were complex businesses, she decided George had encountered a situation that required more of his time. Another day passed, and another.

Yesterday, she’d waited in all day, but he’d failed to appear.

There had been no word, and again today, no note. Surely his business had been concluded by now.

Fearful he had decided her escapade in disguise was not, after all, a sign of strength but of a hoyden ill-suited to the position of countess, she closed her eyes. All that did was call up his face in her mind’s eye and his kiss on her lips.

Was she a hoyden for acting upon the only idea she’d had to save her family? Perhaps.

Not that she blamed George. She didn’t think she was suited to such a role. The difference between her father’s baronetcy and the earl’s exalted position was great.

Insurmountable in his eyes perhaps, if his failure to communicate with her was any indication. It seemed distance did not make the heart grow fonder.

Viola sighed and opened the day’s letters.

An unexpected request from the bank to pay off the rest of her father’s loan immediately sat in her hands. She dropped the demand as though it would burn her hands and stared at the black ink on the white page. Such payment would consume all the funds she had won and then some.

Depending on a proposal from George to stop creditors and the bank from pursuing her family was no longer sensible, nor even an option now. Despite all his talk of their compatibility and her strength of character, he might not make her an offer. He might not return to her.

Absent-mindedly, Viola opened another envelope, and tapped the invitation to a musical evening on the rosewood table.

She could attend more events and hope to meet another eligible suitor, but Marie had pointed out the problem with that plan two weeks ago when she believed she had caught George’s interest.

Interest and success were not the same thing, and the bank would not wait a day longer than they said before claiming Winspear House in lieu of payment.

Diana skipped into the room, closely followed by Hermione and Juliet with Marie bringing up the rear. Marie glanced from the invitation in Viola’s hand to the small pile of scattered post.

“Anything?”

She knew what Marie meant and shook her head. “Not today,” she said, before handing over the letter of demand from the bank.

Her sister’s bleak look and shadowed eyes as she read revealed the strain she was under. Perhaps Viola shouldn’t have shared the demand letter with her younger sister. For one so young, Marie took on the weight of the world, but the responsibility was Viola’s in the absence of their parents.

Waiting for George to return was like believing in fairies. It was up to Viola alone to take action and chase away the shadows in Marie’s eyes.

She dropped the invitation onto the table and looked up.

“I am going out tonight.”