good stead. “Why shouldn’t you? I would if I were you.”
“And what good would that do me? You said if I didn’t stay tonight, you’d have me and my cousin hauled off to the gaol.”
“I’m sure you guessed that Gran has the influence to prevent that.”
“Maybe I’m afraid to risk it.”
He snorted. “Yes, because you’re so timid.”
A soft chuckle sounded beside him. “No one has ever accused me of that.”
Slanting a glance at her, he tried to gauge her mood. “You should throw in your lot with Gran. With her money you could hunt for your fiancé, and you’d be well free of this place.” And of me.
“Fortunately for you, I’m not that mercenary. I promised I’d stay tonight, and I will.”
The swift surge of relief that her words provoked unsettled him. She was a means to an end, nothing more. He could find someone else if need be.
And yet . . .
In the starlight, her face held an angelic glow, and her hair, plaited to lie in a circle atop her head, bore a halo-ish look.
He groaned. Halos and angels and stars—what had come over him, spinning such fancies? “I wouldn’t blame you if you left. You care only about finding Hyatt, so I could hardly be surprised if you took your chance to flee when Gran offered it.”
“You have a very low opinion of people. But some of us do keep our promises. Some of us have integrity.”
He’d long ago forgotten what that was. “Good for you, Miss Butterfield.” He raised his goblet in a toast. “That was probably a first for Gran—finding someone she couldn’t buy off.”
“Oh? Whom has she bought off before?”
He flashed on a dark night when he’d sat shivering in horror while Gran hurried about, silencing servants, bribing whoever might gainsay her. “No one. Forget I said it.”
“You do that a great deal, don’t you?”
He swallowed the rest of his wine. “What?”
“Close up into yourself whenever someone tries to peer into your soul. Make a joke of it.”
“If you came out here to lecture me,” he snapped, “don’t bother. Gran has perfected that talent. You can’t possibly compete.”
“I only want to understand.”
“I want to be consumed by a star, but we don’t all get what we want.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Turning for the nearest door into the house, he started to stalk off, but she caught his arm.
“Why are you so angry at your grandmother?” Maria asked.
“I told you—she’s trying to ruin the lives of me and my siblings.”
“By requiring you to marry so you can have children? I thought all lords and ladies were expected to do that. And the five of you are certainly old enough.” Her tone turned teasing. “Some of you are beyond being old enough.”
“Watch it, minx,” he clipped out. “I’m not in the mood for having my nose tweaked tonight.”
“Because of your grandmother, you mean. It’s not just her demand that has you angry, is it? It goes back longer than that.”
Oliver glared at her. “Why do you care? Has she got you fighting her battles for her now?”
“Hardly. She just informed me that I was, and I quote, ‘exactly the sort of woman who would not meet my requirements of a wife.’ ”
A smile touched his lips at her accurate mimicking of Gran at her most haughty. “I told you she would think that.”
“Yes,” she said dryly. “You both excel at insulting people.”
“One of my many talents.”
“There you go again. Making a joke to avoid talking about what makes you uncomfortable.”
“And what is that?”
“What did your grandmother do, besides giving you an ultimatum about marriage, that has you at daggers drawn?”
Blast it all, would she not leave off? “How do you know she did anything? Perhaps I’m just contrary.”
“You are. But that’s not what has you so angry at her.”
“If you plan to spend the next two weeks asking ridiculous questions that have no answers, then I will pay you to return to London.”
She smiled. “No, you
“And what good would that do me? You said if I didn’t stay tonight, you’d have me and my cousin hauled off to the gaol.”
“I’m sure you guessed that Gran has the influence to prevent that.”
“Maybe I’m afraid to risk it.”
He snorted. “Yes, because you’re so timid.”
A soft chuckle sounded beside him. “No one has ever accused me of that.”
Slanting a glance at her, he tried to gauge her mood. “You should throw in your lot with Gran. With her money you could hunt for your fiancé, and you’d be well free of this place.” And of me.
“Fortunately for you, I’m not that mercenary. I promised I’d stay tonight, and I will.”
The swift surge of relief that her words provoked unsettled him. She was a means to an end, nothing more. He could find someone else if need be.
And yet . . .
In the starlight, her face held an angelic glow, and her hair, plaited to lie in a circle atop her head, bore a halo-ish look.
He groaned. Halos and angels and stars—what had come over him, spinning such fancies? “I wouldn’t blame you if you left. You care only about finding Hyatt, so I could hardly be surprised if you took your chance to flee when Gran offered it.”
“You have a very low opinion of people. But some of us do keep our promises. Some of us have integrity.”
He’d long ago forgotten what that was. “Good for you, Miss Butterfield.” He raised his goblet in a toast. “That was probably a first for Gran—finding someone she couldn’t buy off.”
“Oh? Whom has she bought off before?”
He flashed on a dark night when he’d sat shivering in horror while Gran hurried about, silencing servants, bribing whoever might gainsay her. “No one. Forget I said it.”
“You do that a great deal, don’t you?”
He swallowed the rest of his wine. “What?”
“Close up into yourself whenever someone tries to peer into your soul. Make a joke of it.”
“If you came out here to lecture me,” he snapped, “don’t bother. Gran has perfected that talent. You can’t possibly compete.”
“I only want to understand.”
“I want to be consumed by a star, but we don’t all get what we want.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Turning for the nearest door into the house, he started to stalk off, but she caught his arm.
“Why are you so angry at your grandmother?” Maria asked.
“I told you—she’s trying to ruin the lives of me and my siblings.”
“By requiring you to marry so you can have children? I thought all lords and ladies were expected to do that. And the five of you are certainly old enough.” Her tone turned teasing. “Some of you are beyond being old enough.”
“Watch it, minx,” he clipped out. “I’m not in the mood for having my nose tweaked tonight.”
“Because of your grandmother, you mean. It’s not just her demand that has you angry, is it? It goes back longer than that.”
Oliver glared at her. “Why do you care? Has she got you fighting her battles for her now?”
“Hardly. She just informed me that I was, and I quote, ‘exactly the sort of woman who would not meet my requirements of a wife.’ ”
A smile touched his lips at her accurate mimicking of Gran at her most haughty. “I told you she would think that.”
“Yes,” she said dryly. “You both excel at insulting people.”
“One of my many talents.”
“There you go again. Making a joke to avoid talking about what makes you uncomfortable.”
“And what is that?”
“What did your grandmother do, besides giving you an ultimatum about marriage, that has you at daggers drawn?”
Blast it all, would she not leave off? “How do you know she did anything? Perhaps I’m just contrary.”
“You are. But that’s not what has you so angry at her.”
“If you plan to spend the next two weeks asking ridiculous questions that have no answers, then I will pay you to return to London.”
She smiled. “No, you
Similar Books
