* * *
Will swallowedthe lump in his throat and reminded himself of the duke’s warning.Olivia needed him, she needed her best friend to give her the courage to stand up to all the ugliness and snobbery of the ton.Instead, he’d flummoxed both of them the night of the opera with his inexplicable rude, bad behavior.However, he wasnotsorry for the outcome: Olivia crushed to his body, Olivia responding and returning his kiss with such fervor.He was surprised Dickie hadn’t found them with Olivia against the wall, her legs wrapped around him, his… God…he had to stop thinking about what might have been.
He’d slip over to Berkley Square, spend maybe a few minutes giving her encouragement, and then he’d be gone.He didn’t want to linger to find out in the days and weeks ahead that she’d accepted a proposal of marriage and would be sharing her life (and bed) with someone she barely knew.But the stranger would be a gentleman.That was the most important thing.
He’d be damned if he’d stick around to watch her walk away on the arm of another man.That was a favor too far, even for the Duke of Chelmsford.
When he slipped through the servants’ entrance and headed on through the kitchen, Cook motioned for him to sit down for biscuits and tea.“Can’t stop today,” he apologized.“I’m only here for a few minutes.Is His Grace at home?”
Cook rolled her eyes and motioned upward with her thumb.“He’s up there in Her Grace’s study.”
Damn.He’d have to wait.His captain was beginning to get suspicious of his long absences between walking his assigned beats, and he’d hoped to slide in and out of the house within a few minutes.But he didn’t want to neglect to check in with the duke whilst he was there.He wanted to make sure His Grace knew he was doing what he’d suggested.He’d learned long ago that “suggestions” from the Duke and Duchess of Chelmsford were not really suggestions.Their suggestions were actually orders, and they expected their orders to be followed.
With a sniff of Cook’s chocolate biscuits fresh from the oven and a pot of steaming hot tea awaiting him at the duke’s favorite table, Will sighed and lowered his tall form onto one of the wooden benches.
Within a few minutes, the rich cocoa aroma must have reached the upper level where the duke was doing who knew what with his duchess.At the thought of the beautiful, fiery Eleanor Whitcombe, a sort of high seas smuggler when she wasn’t the Duchess of Chelmsford, Will mused that the duke must indeed be addicted to Cook’s biscuits.
The lanky duke, every bit as tall as Will, sauntered over to his side and joined him on the bench.Within minutes, the platter, which had been piled high with the confections, was empty with only a smattering of crumbs remaining.
“What you prompted you to grace us with your presence today?”The duke popped his third biscuit in as many minutes into his mouth.
Will had the good grace to mop crumbs from his lips before answering.“I wanted to let you know the reason I haven’t checked on your household for over a week.”
“Indeed?”The duke swallowed the last biscuit but kept his eyes trained on Will, deadly in earnest.
Will continued.“I’ve been away on an, um, special assignment.”
Without commenting on Will’s frail excuse, His Grace moved on to the most important question.“Have you spoken to Olivia?”
“Erm, not exactly.”
“I see.I suppose stolen kisses in dark corners with masked women do not count as actual conversation.”
Will sucked in a deep breath and felt his body heat with embarrassment from the top of his head to his neck.He wished for nothing more than for the kitchen floor to open and swallow him whole.
* * *
Olivia secretly was enjoyingWill Beckford’s extreme discomfiture.Served him right.He’d spent all those years making her think she was just a friend, the tagalong sister of his bosom friend Dickie.The question was, how long should she make him squirm?
A footman had delivered him to the family sitting room like a huge barrel of soap on wash day at Goodrum’s before slamming the door behind him.
He stood there like a great, hulking bear about to growl.“I’m sorry, Olivia.I’ve been a terrible friend.I’ve taken advantage of your regard and confused you in the midst of your preparation to find a proper gentleman for a husband.”
“Then why the hell are you here?”she shot back.
“I hope you don’t talk like that at your coming out ball…you need…”
She interrupted him with the duchess’s favorite command.“Stubble it—.I’m not your responsibility, nor do I have need of any of your cork-brained advice.”
“But…”
“Stop.I’m going to go through with the coming-out ball my brother seems to think I need, and I’m not afraid of facing the high-in-the-instep, self-important members of the ton.They can look down on me, they can give me the cut direct, but they can’t change how I feel about myself in here.”She thumped her chest hard.
At the stricken look on his face, she softened her tone.“We’ll always be friends, but you don’t need to watch over me anymore.I can take care of myself from now on.”When he hung his head, she added, “If you’re worried about my assuming you care for me because of what happened in that darkened corner, I’m willing to forget if you are.Let’s blame that kiss on too much bubbly wine.”She stood then, extended her hand, and sent him away with nothing more than a short “Good-bye.”
On his way out, before turning toward the kitchen and the tradesmen’s entrance below, he had to pass the duke’s study.He’d nearly passed by when an arm shot out and dragged him inside.
10
