“Where the devil did she catch the wind? I thought I’d at least get to see her off,” Ramsdale groused.
The man must not have known that Sophia had spent the night with him. And Ashley wasn’t certain it would be a good idea to inform him. A father on a rampage wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at present. Just then, a flurry of yellow dashed around the corner and barreled directly into Ashley’s side. He caught the slip of a girl and held her out from him. She looked very much like Sophia, and he could well imagine what Sophia looked like when she was younger. But she was the girl he’d met while waiting in the corridor all night for Sophia, her younger sister. She curtsied quickly.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” she s
aid.
“What have I told you about running in the house?” her father warned, his tone not harsh at all.
“Don’t run in the house. Don’t fly in the house. Can I do anything in the house?” the girl quipped. A grin tugged at Ashley’s lips.
“I hope you have a house full of daughters one day,” Ramsdale said. The youngest Ramsdale scurried on down the corridor. “Follow me,” the viscount muttered as he started toward the back of the house. Ashley bent to pick up the bag, which had grown strangely quiet. “What do you have there?” Ramsdale asked as Ashley lowered it to the Aubusson rug in his study.
“One very angry garden gnome,” Ashley said. The viscount reached toward the bag. “It bites,” Ashley warned.
“Quite right,” the viscount said, bending to rub his ankle as he obviously remembered something. What Ashley wouldn’t give to know what it was. “It he alright in there? It looks awfully still.”
Ashley kicked the side of the sack with the side of his boot. Ronald cursed. Prolifically. “Seems fine to me,” Ashley said, settling into a chair.
“What can I do for you, Robinsworth?” Ramsdale said as he sat down and steepled his hands in front of him.
“My list is long and varied,” Ashley said hesitantly.
“Start at the top, shall we?” Ramsdale was awfully calm. Almost too calm.
“He had inappropriate relations with Sophia,” Ronald called through the burlap sack.
Ramsdale sat back and his eyebrows arched up nearly high enough to meet his hairline. “He had better be saying that to make me want to kill you. Because I will.”
Ashley had no doubt of it. He opened his mouth to speak.
“She spent the night in his bed last night,” Ronald called, his voice muffled by the bag. Ashley should have stuffed the gnome’s mouth full of his cravat.
Ashley scrubbed at his face with his hand and kicked the side of the bag. Hard. “Shut it,” he growled. “That’s why I’m here, sir,” he attempted.
“To admit that you took advantage of my daughter.” Ramsdale choked out.
“To ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” Ashley rushed on.
“Put the cart before the horse, did you?” Ramsdale looked none too pleased. In fact, he looked murderous.
“She came to see me last night to retrieve Ronald.”
Ramsdale didn’t say a word.
“He was holding me hostage,” the bag squawked.
“It’s true. I was. I knew she would come for him,” Ashley admitted. “I like to think she would have come anyway.”
“I like to think she wouldn’t,” Ramsdale countered.
“I love her,” Ashley admitted. “I told her that last night. So, you may as well know. And, with your blessing, I’d like to marry her.”
“Now that you’ve defiled her, you think I should allow you to take her from me?” Ramsdale leapt to his feet and began to stalk across the room. “I’ve only just found her, man. Couldn’t you have allowed me a few moments with her as my little girl?”
“With all due respect, it’s not my fault you missed six-and-twenty years with her, Ramsdale.”
His comment hung in the air like a bad stench. No one inhaled. No one exhaled. It was as though the world stopped.