Oliver bit back a grin. “If I recall, Lord Carlton died from lung fever.”
“A direct result of his carriage going off the road in the rain.”
“It was three months later.”
“A slow, lingering death.” Mother sniffed. “Cut down in the prime of his life, poor man.”
“He was in his eighty-third year.”
“And might have had a good many years left had he not decided to travel in the rain. However, you must do what you feel necessary.” She unfolded a lace trimmed handkerchief hidden in her hand. “Go to London. In the rain. Risk life and limb.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I shall fear for your safety every moment you are away.”
He stared in disbelief.
“However, I shall try to carry on without you.” Her chin wobbled as if she were holding back tears. “Your father would want me to be brave.”
She was good. Very good. He’d never realized it before but Edwina Leighton, Countess of Norcroft, might well have had a successful career on the stage if she had so chosen.
“I’m certain my heart can take the strain…”
He burst into laugher. “You are mad.”
“Not at all,” she said indignantly. “I am simply getting older, which means I am increasingly subject to all kinds of ills including those of the heart.” She sighed dramatically. “It might well crack with—”
“Enough.” He laughed. “I promise not to travel in the rain. Will that make you happy?”
“What will make me happy is for you to stay right here and resolve all of this with Kathleen,” she said, all evidence of her previous dismay now vanished.
“There is nothing to resolve.” He shook his head. “I have no intention of marrying anyone to satisfy the conditions of a curse that I consider ridiculous.”
His mother leaned forward and met his gaze firmly. “Then marry her because you love her.”
“What makes you think I love her?”
“What makes you think you don’t?”
“This is precisely why I intend to leave.” He blew a long breath. “I cannot reach any kind of sensible decision as long as you and everyone else in this household insists on offering up my…my freedom on the altar of superstition.”
Her forehead furrowed in annoyance. “You are a stubborn, stubborn man, Oliver. As was your father.”
“Thank you.” He grinned.
She huffed. “It was not intended as a compliment.”
“Mother.” He paused. “Do you really wish me to enter marriage for the wrong reasons?”
“Of course not. What I really wish is for you to see the reasons that are in front of your very nose.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” he said simply.
“And I don’t think you can determine that in London. I think your leaving is a dreadful mistake.” She rose to her feet. “Oliver, I have never seen you do anything truly stupid. I do hope I am not seeing you do so now.”
“I’m afraid I cannot guarantee that.” He chuckled then sobered. “But I shall not let superstitious nonsense dictate my actions. And it is my life and my decision.”
“And your responsibility,” she said pointedly. “Well, I have matters of my own to attend to.” She started toward the door. “I am off to pray for rain.”
“Mother,” he called after her, “You do not look anywhere near your age, you know.”
“Yes, darling.” She flashed him a wicked grin over her shoulder. “I do know.” With that she took her leave.
Perhaps it was unwise to return to London with Dumleavy still at the manor and his mother’s desire for adventure. He certainly didn’t trust Kate’s uncle and he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted his mother either. Still, he drummed his fingers on the desk, she was just as capable of making her own decisions about her life as he was.
Was she right? Was he fleeing in fear? Afraid of marriage? Afraid of love? Admittedly he had felt the noose of marriage wrapping around his neck since last night which was odd in and of itself. He had never been afraid of marriage, never especially avoided it. And if true love had evaded him thus far, well, that was the way things happened in life. Regardless, if he knew nothing else he knew he couldn’t sort out his feelings here.
A knock sounded at the door. Before he could answer, it was flung open and his cousins stormed into the room like the force of nature they were.
“Oliver,” Belle started. “You can’t possibly be leaving.”
“Please, come in,” he said in a dry manner.
“You can’t go now.” Sophie stared at him. “Not now that you know everything.”
“We find it all quite romantic.” Belle’s eyes shone with excitement. “The curse and magic and all of it.”
“Even I find it romantic,” Gen said with a shrug. “Even though I didn’t trust her in the beginning.”
Sophie scoffed. “And you trust her now?”
“Mr. Berkley trusts her,” Gwen said in a lofty manner. “And I trust Mr. Berkley. He is an excellent judge of character.”
Belle crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you running off, Oliver?”
Sophie shook her head. “It’s quite cowardly and not at all what we expected of you.”
Gen stared. “Well?”
“Not that it is any of your concern, but I am not running off. I am returning to London to come to some sort of rational decision about what I should do.”
“You mean whether or not you should marry Lady Kathleen to end the curse?” Sophie said.
“Yes, I suppose that is indeed what I mean.” He shook his head. “I am not about to be herded into marriage because of something as ridiculous as a curse.”
Gen studied him. “So if there was no curse, would you marry her?”
“I…” It was a question that hadn’t occurred to him. “I suppose that’s another issue I need to consider.”
Gen’s eyes widened. “You have to think about that?”
All three sisters stared at him as if he were insane.
“Yes, I have to think about it. And, as none of this has anything to do with any of you, this discussion is at an end,” he said firmly. “Oh, yes.” He looked at Gen. “And I am taking Mr. Berkley with me.”
Gen stared at him for a moment then nodded. “What a good idea.”
“Really?” Oliver pulled his brows together. “You’re not upset that he’s leaving?”
“No, no, not at all.” Gen waved him off. “Go on, take him.”
“I thought you liked him,” Oliver said.
“Oh, she does.” Belle nodded.
“Quite a lot actually,” Sophie added.
“Indeed I do like him. I might well more than like him and I’m finding that rather confusing.” Gen sighed. “So it probably is best for him to go.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust you.”
“Goodness, Oliver, you are a suspicious sort.” Gen shook her head. “I simply think it’s unwise to rush into anything as permanent as marriage at my age. I have plenty of time. After all, I am not nearly so old as Lady Kathleen.”
“Lady Kathleen is not old,” he said sharply.
Gen ignored him. “I am fairly certain I have fallen in love with Mr. Berkley which frankly plays havoc with intelligent thought.”
Oliver stared. “That’s very…sensible of you.”
“Thank you,” Gen continued, “I don’t think a decision this important should rely simply on feelings of the heart. After all, my heart has never been engaged before and I am not at all sure I can trust it.”
Oliver raised a brow. “You can’t?”
“Of course not.” Gen nodded. “I need time and distance as well to determine if Mr. Berkley is truly what I want. I have begun making a list of his good points and his faults. Would you like to see it?”
“Thank you, but no.”
“I need to make a well-considered decision about my future and I simply can’t do it with Mr. Berkley underfoot,” Gen said firmly.
“I can see
where that might be difficult,” Oliver said slowly.
“Very nearly impossible.” Gen sighed. “He is entirely too…tempting.”
Oliver winced. “Tempting?”
Belle nodded. “Irresistible.”
Sophie shrugged. “Utterly delicious.”
“Then it is indeed a very good thing that he is leaving. Now then.” He waved them toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I have things I would like to accomplish before I go.”
“We’ll leave you be but we think it’s a dreadful mistake for you to leave the manor,” Sophie said, heading toward the door.
Belle followed a step behind. “We think you should marry Lady Kathleen at once.”
“Thus ending the curse.” Gen reached the doorway and paused. “You should consider, Oliver, that even though we are not related by blood something as dreadful as a curse might well extend to relatives by marriage. Surely, you can see it’s your duty—”
“Enough,” he snapped.
“You needn’t be rude about it.” Gen huffed and closed the door behind her.
Well that was a surprise. Oliver had fully expected Gen to protest Mr. Berkley’s departure. He certainly hadn’t anticipated her to be quite so sensible. He was obviously having a good influence on his cousins.
He tried to focus his attention on his correspondence but his mind continued to return to the one question he hadn’t thought of. Would he marry Kate if there was no curse? For that too, he had no answer.
Once again a knock sounded at his door. He toyed with the idea of not answering but whoever it was would no doubt track him to the ends of the earth to ensure he had yet another opinion as to what he should do next.
“Come in.”
The door swung open and Kate swept into the room, a sheaf of paper in her hands. “Do you intend to avoid me all day?”
He rose to his feet. “And a good day to you too.”
She sniffed. “It’s not the least bit good thus far. Well? Are you going to answer my question?”
“Avoiding you was my intention, yes.”
“Why?” There was a distinct wounded look in her eye. Guilt washed through him. Regardless of the circumstances, he didn’t wish to hurt her.
“Why?” he said slowly.
“It was not a difficult question.”
“I intend to avoid you because I find it difficult to think in a rational manner when you are around.”
“Oh.” She sank into the chair in front of his desk. “I didn’t expect that. That’s very nice.”
“I can be very nice.” He resumed his seat and leaned back. “What did you expect?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” She studied him thoughtfully. “More of last night I suppose.” She shrugged. “Accusations of trying to trap you into marriage, charges of insanity, anger out of all proportion to the crime.”
“Things always look better after one has had a restful night’s sleep.”
She raised a brow. “And was your sleep restful?”
“Like a small child’s without a care in the world.” He smiled pleasantly.
She stared at him then laughed. “You’re lying. You slept no better than I did.”
“Oh?” He adopted an innocent manner. “You did not sleep well?”
“No, I scarcely slept at all. And I slept alone which is not at all what I had…expected.”
“It seems life is full of the unexpected these days.”
“Indeed it is. I did not expect…” She stared at him for a long moment. “Do you still plan to return to London?”
“As soon as the rains end.”
“I see.” She thought for a moment. “It doesn’t seem right, that I should chase you out of your home—”
“You’re not chasing me.”
“That I should frighten you away—”
“I am not the least bit frightened.”
“Actually, I feel quite badly about this. I should be the one to leave.”
“Well, if you wish—”
“And yet I shall remain. Your mother has invited us to stay until the end of the month.” She met his gaze directly. Resolve shone in her eyes. “I will not give up, Oliver. I have found you and I do not intend to lose you.”
There it was again. The distinct sense of a trap closing around him. “You don’t have me.”
“But I should. It’s fate, destiny, a match five hundred years in the making.”
“You’re just as mad as the rest of them.”
She laughed. “That’s entirely possible.”
She was delightful when she laughed. No, she was delightful always. A reluctant smile curved his lips.
“However, as the very mention of the curse or magic, and I see now, fate tends to make the muscle on the side of your jaw”—she tilted her head, studied him then pointed to the left side of his face—“that one, right there, twitch—”
“I do not twitch.” Damnation, she was going to make him laugh in spite of himself.
“Oh, you do when you’re angry. You did a great deal of twitching last night. As I was saying, since I prefer to avoid any twitching on your part—”
He surrendered and laughed. “I do not twitch.”
“And as you value things of a rational nature, I thought we could discuss our circumstances in a rational manner without mention of anything of an unusual nature.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” he said slowly.
“Nor should you.” She smiled in a pleasant manner. What was the woman up to? She folded her hands on top of the papers in her lap. “Oliver, you are not averse to marriage. Indeed, you are apparently quite amenable to the idea.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did my mother tell you that?”
“She didn’t need to, you’ve said it yourself. And goodness, everyone knows it.” Amusement flashed in her green eyes. “Why, hardly anyone wagered on you to win.”
“Wagered on me?” He stared in confusion. What on earth—abruptly the answer struck him. “You know about the tontine. How?”
“I shouldn’t tell you,” she said in a lofty manner. “It will only make you twitch.”
“I shall endeavor to control myself,” he said wryly.
“Excellent.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “I consider myself every bit as sensible and rational as you consider yourself. So I certainly wouldn’t have come to England to marry a man without knowing something about him nor would my family expect me to do so. My grandmother arranged for an investigation as to your background and I received a complete dossier upon my arrival in London.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “That’s how you knew I was never much of a scholar.”
“Oh well, Oliver, that was fairly—” She favored him with a bright smile. “Yes, of course.”
He nodded at the papers in her hand. “Is that it?”
“No, this is something entirely different.” Her brows drew together. “But you’re not twitching. I thought surely you would be twitching by now.”
“Admittedly, I find the idea of having my life reduced to a dossier annoying, even insulting. One likes to think one’s life is too complicated to be summarized in a handful of papers.” He thought for a moment. “Although I admit it is quite sensible.”
“I thought so.” She paused for a moment. “As I was saying, you are not opposed to marriage. Therefore I am…applying, as it were, for the position.”
“What position?”
“The position of your wife.”
“I was not aware I was seeking applicants,” he said slowly.
“Perhaps not by placing an advertisement, but you are looking for a wife. You always have been.”
“Perhaps but—”
“Goodness, Oliver, you weren’t even pleased that you had won that silly wager.” She paused. “Why you gave the coins you had won away at the first opportunity.”
He stared at her. “Your investigator did an excellent job.”
“That’s neither here nor there at the moment. However, it seems to
me that, as I know all the details of your life, it’s only fair that you know all the details of mine.” She tossed the papers in her hand onto his desk. “Last night, I compiled a dossier of my own about myself.”
“You did?” He paged through the papers. “It appears quite extensive.”
“As I said I couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged. “There before you are all the details of my life. You already know a fair amount. I am indeed well educated. You know I speak French but I also speak a smattering of Italian and Spanish. I have traveled but not extensively and I should dearly love to travel more. My lineage is noble and most respectable—”
“Given that your relations are all mad,” he said under his breath.
“Now, now, Oliver we agreed not to discuss matters that are not of a sensible nature.”
“I don’t recall—”
“To continue, you are aware of my skill with bow and arrow as well as at croquet and I do enjoy games of golf whether that is indeed appropriate for a woman or not. I am, in addition, an excellent hostess. I have the skills to manage a household and have been trained since childhood to assume a proper position in life. That said,” she smiled, “I am eminently suitable to be next Countess of Norcroft.”
He stared. “Are you?”
“Oh, and I have a sizable fortune as well.”
“Still,” he chose his words with care. “There’s more to selecting a wife than,” he waved at the papers in front of him, “mere qualifications.”
“Of course there is. Oliver.” She met his gaze firmly. “When we didn’t know who I was, I thought we got on rather well together didn’t you?”
“When I wasn’t being suspicious of you and you weren’t slapping me—”
“I only slapped you once and you deserved it. I daresay it will never happen again. Probably.” She grinned then sobered and drew a deep breath. “I didn’t note this in my dossier, but you should also know the other night was, well, I would use the word magic but I don’t want you to twitch. I thought it was…wonderful.”
“As did I.”
“And there too I thought we were perfectly suited.”
“Yes, well…” He gestured at her dossier and forced a collected note to his voice. “I shall take this with me to London and give it due consideration.”
Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing) Page 21