Page 20 of His Scandalous Viscountess
With a naughty smile and a wink, she shook out her skirts. “We’d best return to the main path, so we can be sure to be seen together. I’d hate for anyone to think we weren’t truly enamored of each other.”
Wolf followed her from the protective copse of trees, at a loss for how anyone could think he wasn’t utterly taken with the enchanting, sensual creature before him.
Chapter 8
Julia stood with Wolf on the front step of her parents’ home while butterflies danced in her belly. In truth, she was more worried they would say something offensive to him, and not that he would somehow slip up and reveal that their engagement was fake. So, when the front door opened and their longtime butler stood there, it was with some trepidation that she greeted him.
“Good evening, Thompson.”
He helped her with her cloak, and then took Wolf’s coat from him.
“I assume Mother and Father are in the parlor?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
The white-haired old man bowed, and then shuffled off to put their outerwear away.
“Are you ready to beard the lion in its den?” Julia asked Wolf, winking at him and feigning a confidence she did not feel.
One of his golden brows lifted. “It can’t possibly be so dangerous as that.”
“My mother may look sweet, but she has claws. Never forget it,” she drawled, as she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
His forearm was heavily muscled, something she could tell even through his jacket. She loved the tensile strength he exuded, despite his finery. Taking comfort in his calm demeanor, she led him into the parlor. As they strode in, her parents and Ros all stood.
“Mother, Father, you remember Lord Wolfington?” Julia kissed each of them on the cheek.
“Of course.” Her father shook hands with him. “Welcome, my lord.”
“A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Fairchild.” Wolf nodded, then turned to take her mother’s hand. “Mrs. Fairchild. You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Her mother curtsied and offered a polite smile. “Dinner will be served shortly. May we offer you something to drink?”
“A glass of sherry wouldn’t come amiss,” Wolf replied, and then greeted Ros.
They all took a seat as her father poured the drinks. He presented both her and Wolf a glass before taking a seat as well. Silence reigned as they sipped from their glasses.
The moment was on the verge of growing awkward when Ros spoke up. “Wolf, have you heard that Father has been able to secure rights to import Darjeeling tea?”
Wolf sipped his sherry. “I had not heard. Congratulations, sir.”
Mr. Fairchild smiled. “I am quite pleased with the arrangement. It is only in the last few years that tea gardens have been established in that region. While it’s not an exclusive right to import, I am one of a very few importers who have made the proper connections. My investors were rather excited when I delivered the news earlier this week.”
Thompson entered the salon then and pronounced, “Dinner is served.”
With something akin to relief, Julia stood and walked with Wolf into the dining room. At least now they would have the excuse of eating to explain the lack of conversation.
The meal stretched interminably. At least, that’s how it felt to her. If it hadn’t been for Ros, she and Wolf would have been practically having a private conversation. By the time dessert was served, her father had engaged a bit more in the discussion, though his contributions still felt slightly stilted and awkward. Her mother, silent unless directly asked a question, was a better hostess than that, but Julia knew she was deeply unhappy about the engagement. Determined to have a private word with her later, Julia set her napkin aside.
Then her father rose from the table and started toward his study. “Wolf, why don’t you join me for a cigar and an after-dinner drink?”
Dutifully, and because it was obvious that it was a command and not a request, Wolf followed her father out.
Pleased for the semi-private moment with her mother, Julia waited for the study door to close in the distance. As soon as the sound assured her the men were secluded, she launched her attack. “Mother, I cannot believe you are behaving in such a poor fashion. I haveneverseen someone treated so shabbily in this home.”
Mrs. Fairchild let her eyes widen as she pressed a hand to her breast. “I do not understand what you are suggesting, Julia.”
“I am not suggesting anything. I am saying straight out that you are behaving as a very poor hostess. Were it not for Wolf’s better manners and Ros providing most of the conversation, dinner would have been all but silent. You are, in short, being extremely rude.”
