Oliver nodded, motioning to the carriage. “Shall we?” This time he didn’t wait for her, he snatched up the boy by his waist and entered the carriage in one swift motion, placing the “brat” beside him.
Lady Louisa entered with a dark look but didn’t comment on him forgoing his manners. “We should talk about what happens when we find the men who approached my brother. Brighton is a popular town. People will recognize us.”
Oliver rested his hands on his legs. “Which is why we shall board with a friend of mine on the outskirts of town.”
Her gaze flashed with surprise. “Who is your friend? He won’t mind if my brother and I join as well?”
“You won’t know him,” Oliver said. “I sent a man in advance to inform him of our imminent arrival.”
“I see. Well, I thank you.”
He picked at his sleeves, withholding a smile. “Since you came to pick me up, paid for the lodgings, and orchestrated our travels, I could do at least this much. How would you wish to proceed?”
She blinked, then cleared her throat. “Well, since they have a gentleman’s club book but seem rather ungentlemanly, I suppose we should start at a teahouse.”
Oliver arched a brow. “A teahouse? Why?”
“Gossip runs rampant at teahouses. The servers know about everything going on in town.”
“And how wouldyouknow this?”
“How else?” Leo piped up from beside him. “She enjoys gossiping with the servants.”
“You as well, little brat,” Lady Louisa shot back.
Oliver cocked his head in thought. Just what did a lady gossip about with the servants? He couldn’t imagine such a thing. Well... he thought about the scowl of his valet, also a man of—secret—affairs, riding his horse alongside this carriage.
Very well. Hecouldform a picture in his mind.
But they didn’t gossip. It was only ever pure business. Mmm. They did speak of other people’s business. Could that be considered business gossip?
Were he and Owen gossips?
No.
“We shall arrive in a few hours,” Oliver murmured in an effort to prevent the two from falling into bickering again. “You and your brother are friends of my family traveling with me.”
A snort came from Lady Louisa’s bench across from him. “Friends of your family? You are surprisingly humorous.”
He caught the teasing note and smoothly asked. “Shall I introduce you as an enemy then?”
The lad waved a hand. “Friends are fine.”
Lady Louisa leaned over to pinch his cheek until he yelped. “Why do you think you are in charge here?”
The boy sat straighter. “I am the highest ranking here.”
She threatened to give him another pinch. “Until you reach the age of eighteen, age trumps rank, brat.”
Oliver stared at the young heir. Their resemblance was uncanny. The boy reminded him too much of Lady Louisa as a little ten-year-old girl. How old had he been back then? Barely a man himself. Another memory clutched at his mind, sharp as a hook. A small girl clinging to his neck, sobbing in fright.
A prickle ran along his hairline, and he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake the sensation off. He should never have entered her home nor the carriage when she’d appeared again. The former he’d thought a necessity given the circumstances. But the latter... How could he explain his feet taking on a life of their own? It was as though a cord had wrapped around every one of his limbs and pulled him forward.
The same had happened when their gazes had locked earlier.
“My friend shall be asking around already. Let us see what he uncovers. If his information is unhelpful, then we shall go to your teahouse.”
Her gaze shifted from her brother to Oliver. “As you wish.”
