Viola felt secretly pleased that her aunt had not thought much of Millicent – she did not mention her constant dropping of the Earl’s name, although she was certain that her aunt would have noticed it.
The Earl – how Viola could not wait to see him again.
The hours after luncheon dragged by and even though she tried to rest later, she was far too excited.
Mirupa had pressed her riding habit and it was now hanging from the wardrobe. Viola lay on the bed, looking at it and wishing that it was time to put it on.
She tried reading, but, try as she might, she could not concentrate.
Her aunt was having an afternoon nap and the house was as quiet as a Church.
Viola crept downstairs and saw that there was yet another pile of dispatch boxes waiting outside her uncle’s study.
She stroked the
