Page 54 of Beyond Her Manner
“Yes. Only it’s my first performance without Mum,” Viola answered, inhaling a deep breath.
Caroline placed her hands on Viola’s shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “You will be fine. You are magnificent. You can do this,” she said, pulling her into a tight hug.
Viola forced a smile and took another deep breath as she returned the embrace. She could do this; she needed to. Although her mum was no longer here, she could still do it for her, keeping up with the routines they made. She wasn’t going to let her down.
As Caroline pulled back, she patted Viola’s chest gently. “She’s in here. You won’t let her down.”
Viola wiped her eyes, which were filling with tears. “I won’t.”
“Now come on,” Caroline said, putting an arm around Viola. “Show me all the exciting nooks and crannies. There better be a priest hole hiding somewhere, or I will be extremely disappointed.”
“I gave the place a good search when I moved in, and the only things I found were some old paintings in the attic.”
“We can ask this Gillian of yours.”
“She’s not my Gillian,” Viola disputed, as much as she liked the sound of it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Caroline countered as they left the room.
Following a tour of the manor, Viola showed Caroline to a guest room at the back of the house, where the windows offered sweeping, uninterrupted views of the estate.
The sound of pans clattering from the room below signalled Mrs Johnson’s arrival to prepare dinner, so Viola left Caroline to settle in and retreated to her own bathroom, where she sank into a hot bath. She relished the calming embrace of the water as she thought about the evening ahead. She was excited yet nervous to see Gillian again, and her mind wandered to what she might wear to dinner. She wouldn’t be short of beautiful dresses, having spent decades as a hostess.
After her bath, Viola selected a chiffon maxi dress that she knew would show her figure off to her advantage. Its rich, deep green hues contrasted with the auburn waves she’d teased into place over her shoulders. Taking a moment to admire herself in the mirror, she felt a sudden surge of confidence. Secretly she hoped it might catch Gillian’s attention.
Refreshed and ready, she made her way to the great hall, checking her watch to see how long it would be before Gillian would arrive. She began to hum a riff that popped into her mind from nowhere. It had been a while since that last happened. Her humming turned into a soft, melodic singing as she descended the stairs. When she noticed Caroline at the bottom looking up at her, she stopped.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Caroline said with a wide grin. “It’s good to hear you singing again. I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.”
“It just slipped into my mind,” Viola admitted. “I haven’t felt the urge to write anything new since Mum died.”
“These things come back to us when we are ready. Sometimes a good break is all we need.” A corner of Caroline’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Or a new muse.”
Viola scowled at her playfully. “That’s enough, thank you.”
“Shall we crack open the champers?” Caroline said, deftly changing the subject by nodding at a bottle and four glasses on the banqueting table.
“You’ll have to wait. It’s rude to start before the guests have arrived. They are quite fastidious about etiquette around here.”
“The savages know about etiquette?” Caroline said, recoiling in faux shock.
“Yes, more so than you it seems.”
“I suppose there must be one downside. Otherwise, this place is really something.”
“You like your room then?”
“Like it? I love it. It will be difficult to get me out of it in the morning, more specifically that spa bath. Did the house come with all the furniture? My four-poster bed must be hundreds of years old.”
“Probably about four hundred, which is how long the Carmichaels owned it.”
A knock at the door echoed into the hall, sending butterflies through Viola from head to toe.
“That will be our guests.”
Viola opened the door to find Gillian in an elegant, off-the-shoulder, V-neck, full-length black gown with a slit up to her thigh. It revealed ample amounts of cleavage, which Viola struggled to tear her eyes away from.
“Gillian, wow.” Viola blinked, realising the last word had let itself out.
