“I see. And she’d never go anywhere alone, wearing a low-cut red gown . . . ?”

“I told you, she’s very buttoned-up. What are you going on about?”

“Turn around.”

“Pardon?” West turned around. And nearly fell out of his chair. A woman stood near the doorway. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, in a glowing scarlet gown with a square neckline that dipped very low in front, and exposed so much of her lush charms, that every man in the room was staring at her bosom.

The woman saw him and her face broke into a seductive smile bracketed by the most adorable dimples.

“Viola?” West said, his head spinning as his two worlds collided.

He jumped off his barstool and closed the distance between them. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I have money to wager.” She waved several banknotes at him.

“Don’t wave your money around, there are rough characters about.” West guided her into a secluded alcove. “And where did you get those banknotes?”

She stuffed them back into her reticule. “I followed your advice. I went to the publishing house, met with Mr. Atwater and Mr. Herrick, and revealed myself as Mr. Beam. They offered to publish my symphony, and I made a handshake contract to deliver several more compositions. This is my first advance. Two hundred pounds,” she said proudly.

“You’ll take it directly to a bank tomorrow morning and deposit it for safekeeping.”

“Ha!” She wrinkled her pert nose. “You sound like a parson. Your sisters are having a night in with Aunt Miriam. My father is happily finishing his symphony. And I want to gamble some of this money away. Who knows? I might even win.”

“I’m very proud of you for revealing your identity and claiming your winnings. But this is no place for you. And money is always safer in a bank than at the hazard table.”

“You do enjoy dispensing advice that you never keep yourself, I’ve noticed.”

“Do you even know how to play hazard?”

“No, but you do.”

“Please, Viola. Let’s go home.”

“I don’t want to go home. We’re young and beautiful and free as birds.”

He couldn’t disagree. She was the most ravishing sight he’d ever beheld. “That gown is stunning. I knew the color would suit you.”

“Do you like it, Your Grace?” She ran her hand down her waist. “The velvet silk is as soft as rose petals.”

Dear God he wanted to grab her and pull her onto his lap, kiss the rose petal softness of her lips. “Viola, what’s gotten into you?”

“This is the new me. I’m a wallflower gone slightly wicked. I’m bold and free.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why, are you going to lose my money?”