He inclined his head. “I am.”
Her mouth opened. Shut. Opened again. “Lawks! What are you doing breaking into our house?”
“The book.”
“You mean the betting book?Thisis how you retrieve it?”
A flush of heat crept up his ears at the implied accusation of foolishness. “Can we light a candle? Then we can talk.”
She flicked the knife toward the table beside him. “Light one yourself.”
Oliver didn’t argue. His gaze shifted to the tinderbox next to a candle and quickly lit a flame. More light was better than less. His gaze found hers once again as a soft orange glow spilled across the kitchen, just enough for him to catch the nuances of her expression. He also caught the cutting, dagger-sharp look she directed at him now.
“So,” she snapped, “your candle is lit. Speak.”
“I’ll speak,” Oliver said in a low voice, trying supremely hard not to react to the vision challenging him in nothing but her nightgown. “I know you’ve had a fright, but I need you to remain composed, Lady Louisa.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she slashed the knife back and forth. She resembled a heavenly creature sent from another realm of existence, radiating righteous glory with curves that made all the other angels weep. “You are telling me to remain composed in a moment like this? And how am I not composed enough for you?”
Oliver tensed at her tone, his gut clenching in warning, as it did in all dangerous predicaments. “It is the only way to have a calm conversation.”
“A calm conversation? For that, you would have had to start by knocking on the door for entrance, Your Grace.”
“You are right. I made a mistake.” A grave one.
Her eyes took on a goddess-like fire. “I don’t know if you have learned this in all your years of life, but I shall warn you now, for the sake of your happy future, do not tell a woman waving a knifeat you to remain composed in order to have a calm conversation. It may have the opposite effect.”
“Rest assured, my lady, I don’t plan on a repeat of this mistake.” Never again.
The knife didn’t lower in the slightest. “That’s good to hear.”
“That being said, are we still able to converse in a calm manner even though I did not knock on your door?”
Her look turned flat. “Well, seeing as you are already here, of course. However, it must be said that no matter our family differences, this is a bit extreme, is it not?”
“Those family differences aren’t small,” Oliver pointed out, his focus unwavering. “So please understand why I took such measures.”
“A simple note would have sufficed.” She lowered the knife, though her grip remained tight on the hilt. “After all, Theodosia informed me you might come to collect the book, though honestly, I did not expect you to. I also didn’t expectthis.”
Oliver wanted to rake a hand through his hair but resisted, unwilling to make unnecessary movements while she still clutched the knife. The feud between the families wasn’t widely known. At least, any rumors that might have existed when his father was still alive had already died down, though he knew the Duke of Talbot still bore him and all his family a great deal of ill will.
However, hehadacted rashly. Almosttoorecklessly.
However, he hadn’t anticipated Lady Theodosia handing the book over to Lady Louisa, or he would have intervened sooner. Lady Louisa had already taken to Ashford before Lady Theodosia left London for Brighton, book in hand. He hadn’t thought it a problem—until he learned that she had detoured to leave the book with Lady Louisa, which had prompted his immediate rush.
He considered the angel before him. Her golden hair tumbled down to her waist in soft waves, a few tendrils falling over her shoulder. Full, rosy lips and a gently rounded jawline, framed by cheekbones that lent a hint of definition to her otherwise soft, youthful face. Bright blue eyes fixed on him with heaps of suspicion.
A beautiful tempest.
If her loyalty lay with her friends, he didn’t doubt she would give the book to him. However, recent evidence pointed to the Duchess of Talbot, her stepmother, being the head of the secret women’s club rife with illegal activities ranging from forgery of documents to the smuggling of various forms of antiques and substances. And as such, he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that Lady Louisa wasn’t involved. Yet instinct rebuffed the notion each time it entered his mind. Even so, he couldn’t discount the fact that the duchess might use or convert this angel in the future. It was a supremely precarious situation followed by an ever more perilous question: In the house of his enemy, could she be his ally?
“It’s true that I acted rashly,” Oliver admitted.
A brow rose. “Is that an apology?”
His gaze held hers. “Yes.”
“Very well, since men find it hopelessly impossible to apologize properly and never actually say the words, I shall accept your assurance that this was an apology and let yourrashnessgo. And do not worry, our family differences aside, I have no plan to keep the book from you.” She finally set the knife down and picked up the candle. “Shall I go and retrieve it now?”
