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A Duke's Wild Kiss (Kiss the Wallflower Book 5)

Page 9

by Tamara Gill


  "A misstep, nothing more," he continued.

  They resumed the dance, Oglemoore making so many errors they caught the eye of some of the guests. Not willing to be gossiped or mocked, Olivia falsely tripped and, feigning a sore foot, allowed Oglemoore to escort her from the floor.

  A footman went to pass them, and his lordship reached out, snapping up two flutes of champagne, handing her one.

  "Tell me, my lord, what are your plans once the Season comes to an end? Are you for Surrey?"

  He finished his drink with barely a breath, and Olivia stared at his empty glass. The dance was not so taxing that one drank to such an extreme. "I'm not certain as yet. Everything is to be appointed." His slow, standoffish drawl piqued her interest.

  "Is something the matter, my lord? You seem offended."

  He started to laugh. Cackle would be a better term to describe his mirth. Other guests glanced in their direction before moving away from them. Olivia felt the kiss of heat on her cheeks.

  "Nothing is the matter, my dear. Nothing at all, except…" He smiled, his mirth not reaching his eyes. "I do wonder what you're playing at, my dear. What you hope to achieve."

  "Pardon me?" she asked, lowering her voice, not wanting anyone else to hear his accusations.

  "Pardon you indeed," he replied, hiccupping. "I know you wanted me to marry you, had your heart set on an alliance with my family. I also know that out of spite, you turned Athol away from my suit, and now she is lost to me forever."

  "I never did such a thing," she stated, her voice stern. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing."

  "Athol told me herself. Tonight, in fact, stated that she has chosen another because you did not approve. How could you?"

  Hurt spiked through her heart at her friend's lie. Why would Athol say such a thing? "I never turned Lady Athol from your suit. That she chose Lord Berry is perhaps more to your inability to ask her for her hand than anything I have done."

  "You don’t say?" he stuttered, stumbling toward her. "Well, I have some news for you, Miss Quinton. I have seen you these past weeks since Kent throwing yourself at Hamlyn. Flaunting your assets so to turn his head, but it is all a ruse, you know. He is not interested in you at all."

  Olivia stilled, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat at his words. A ruse? Fear curled about her heart, and she looked around, not wanting to cause a scene. "I do not understand what you're saying. If you'll excuse me."

  "I will not," he said, clasping her arm and holding her in place when she went to flee. "I knew you wanted me as your husband. I made a judgment of error last year in seeking you out to be my bride. I did not find you attractive as a husband should find his wife, and therefore I cooled my friendship with you once I realized my mistake. I asked Hamlyn on our way to Kent to keep you occupied and out of my way so I may court your friend. He readily agreed to keep you distracted. You were only ever a game, my dear. I hope you did not get your hopes up too much. I would hate for us both to have lost in love this year." Oglemoore smiled as if he were doing her a great service.

  "You lie," she said, not able to imagine all that she'd shared with Jasper to be false. He could not act so heartlessly. Not even a rogue like he was.

  Olivia stumbled back, catching herself on a nearby guest. She thanked them before fleeing, fighting her way through the throng of guests to the door. She could not stay here, did not want to listen to any more of Oglemoore's cruel words.

  Jasper had only shown an interest in her at his friend's behest?

  Oh dear heavens, she'd made a fool of herself. She had also made a fool of herself to Hamlyn. He knew of her plan to make Oglemoore jealous, and all the while, he was keeping her engaged for Oglemoore?

  How could he?

  Her vision blurred, her stomach roiled. Blindly she ran out onto the footpath, calling for the first hackney she spied, yelling out the direction to home. She had to leave London. Hide and never come back after this. The people at the ball would have heard Oglemoore and his cruel, mocking words. By tomorrow she would be the latest on dit.

  She would never forgive Jasper for this. At least she had been truthful in her plan, and although she schemed to make Oglemoore jealous, she never intended to play anyone the fool as they had her.

  The bastards had not done the same.

  Jasper sipped his coffee in Whites the following morning, reading The Times and thinking of tonight when he would see Olivia again. Yesterday he'd taken the time to go to the jeweler to have the ring his father had given his mother upon their engagement cleaned and polished.

  Tonight he would offer Olivia his hand and his heart and hope like hell she would accept him. Their game, their original scheme to make Oglemoore jealous had not worked. Even though it was a lot of fun, it had changed, grown into something so much more than a game.

  He adored her. Wanted her to be by his side for the rest of his life. His partner and wife. His love.

  A hand came down over his paper, ripping it away. Marquess Graham glared at him, taking a seat across from him without a word.

  "Graham, whatever do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, straightening his paper and wondering why he'd gained the ire of one of his friends.

  "Indeed," Graham drawled, his mouth set into a displeased line. "Have you looked around you this morning, Hamlyn? Have you noticed anything different in your world?"

  Jasper laid the paper on his knee and glanced about the room. The older gentlemen sat and ate their breakfast, drinking their coffee without a by your leave, while the younger men superstitiously glanced at him, raised their brows, and smirked.

  He frowned, dread coiling in his gut. Whatever had he done now?

  "You need to call out Oglemoore for making a fool of a woman who is practically family to me last evening. She was belittled and mocked and is now the laughing stock of London."

  "What?" Jasper bolted upright. "What did he do to Olivia?"

  Graham's jaw clenched. "Well, at least I'm glad to know that you assumed it to be Olivia who had been harmed." He paused. "Oglemoore, well in his cups last night, declared to anyone within hearing distance of his booming mouth that you had courted Miss Quinton only to keep her occupied and out of his hair. Made her sound like a besotted idiot toward the fool and a game for you and Oglemoore. How could you do that to her? She does not deserve such treatment."

  Fuck!

  Panic seized him, and for a moment, he could not speak. Could not think straight. "He said that to her?"

  "Of course, and other things too. Cruel words that have seen her flee London. She will not return this Season, and you need to make this right. You have been seen on multiple occasions in her presence, dancing and paying attention to her every word. You will offer her your hand and declare Oglemoore a liar. Friend or not, I will not have Miss Quinton come out of this game you decided to play being the one to lose. You will be her husband, and she will save her reputation and pride. I do not care if you wish to marry her or not. That is what you will do."

  Jasper would not normally take such a set down, such rules from anyone, but in this case, he would. He had already decided to offer for Olivia. He would not let her down in this. Face this scandal alone. "I will go to her and make things right." He would first find Oglemoore and give him a good dose of reality and possibly a fist to his nose.

  How dare he tell Olivia of his plans? Why would Oglemoore have wanted to hurt her so?

  He stood, throwing the paper onto the chair and striding from the room. His carriage waited outside the club, and he called out Oglemoore's address. Anger thrummed through him at his friend's treatment of her. The bastard would not come out of this smelling like a rose. He would make sure of it.

  A few minutes later, the carriage rolled to a halt before the modest townhouse. Jasper took the stairs at the front of the house two at a time. He did not wait for the door to be opened, trying the handle himself and finding it unlocked.

  The house was dark, the curtains yet to be opened even at this late time in the mo
rning. A footman skidded to a halt in the foyer. "Your Grace, Lord Oglemoore has not yet risen today. Would you like to leave a message for his lordship?"

  Jasper started up the stairs, ignoring the servant's calls for him to stop. "I shall wake him myself. No need to trouble yourself," he called out over his shoulder. The house was smaller than his own, and it did not take him long to find Oglemoore's room since his door was ajar, and there was a decidedly loud snore emanating from the space that reeked of sweat and spirits.

  "Oglemoore," he yelled, slamming the door wide.

  Oglemoore stuttered awake, sitting up. His once-friend blinked, his eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on one point. "Hamlyn?"

  "Get up," he commanded, waiting for Oglemoore to slip from the bed. The man, still clearly foxed, stumbled before righting himself.

  "Why do I have to get out of bed?" He glanced at the clock on the mantle. "It's not half past ten. A bit early for callers surely."

  Jasper walked over to him, shaking his head. "This is not a pleasant visit between friends. I just did not want to belt you in the nose when you could not fall back on your ass." He pulled his arm back, made a fist, and cracked his friend in the nose. A satisfying thwack rent the air.

  Oglemoore flew backward, falling onto his back, holding his nose and groaning.

  Jasper rubbed the bones on his knuckles, a small cut on his skin from his assault. "How dare you treat Miss Quinton with so little respect. I shall never forgive you for being so cruel."

  Oglemoore sat up, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop it bleeding. "I'm cruel? She turned Lady Athol away from me, and now I have no one. She was spiteful and did it to pay me back for not choosing her."

  Jasper shook his head, striding to the door before turning to face his old friend. "You're a fool. Anyone with a brain could see that Lady Athol is as fickle as they come. She never cared for you, you idiot, but Miss Quinton did. A foolish mistake on her part, and now you'll be lucky to have her as a friend. What you did last evening crossed a line."

  Oglemoore struggled to stand, swiping at his nose to wipe the blood from his face. "What does it matter to you? You were only pretending to help me. You're just as complicit in my hurting of her as I am."

  "I'm to Kent now to talk to her. Apologize on both our behalf and hope that my friendship with her can be saved."

  Oglemoore scoffed. "Do not tell me you have fallen for the chit. She may be rich and handsome enough, but is she worth losing our friendship over? If you chase her down, do not include me in your apology. I care nothing for her now that she has ensured the woman I intended to marry is lost to me."

  "Olivia never did anything of the kind. You're just as blind as Lady Athol. Always looking for something you believe to be better, more handsome, more flirtatious, rich, or higher on the social rank. Nothing will ever be enough for either of you. It is just a shame you did not win Lady Athol, for you would have made both your lives a living hell."

  Jasper strode from the room, ignoring the startled faces of Oglemoore's staff as he passed them by.

  He slammed the front door to the townhouse, closing that part of his life along with it. His friendship with Oglemoore was over, and now he had to find Olivia and see if he could win back her trust and, dare he say it, affections.

  Jasper called for home. He would win her back, earn her trust and forgiveness. They were suited in all ways. She made him laugh, love, and play with the utmost pleasure. He could not live his life without her in it. His future would be a bleak landscape should she refuse him. A missed opportunity that in time they both would regret, he was certain of it.

  Chapter 17

  Olivia arrived at her estate and told her staff to inform all visitors she was not at home. She had been at her house for three days, and still the humiliation, the devastation that Lord Oglemoore's words brought forth in her were enough to make her cry.

  Perhaps her playing a small trick on Oglemoore had forced karma to make an appearance. Still, the fact Jasper had been in on Oglemoore's scheme hurt. She had thought herself in love with the man.

  There was nothing else left to say on the matter. She had fallen in love with him the moment she gave herself to him at his home. Never would she have been so careless unless a small part of her believed Jasper loved her in return and would make her his wife.

  How desperate everyone must think her. What a pathetic human being. No doubt all of London was having a jolly good laugh at her expense right at this moment.

  She stepped off the terrace in the twilight, walking out onto the lawns and toward the lake just visible through the trees. The water always brought on a calming effect, and she needed that more than anything right now.

  "Olivia?"

  She gasped, turning to face Hamlyn, who strode toward her, his steps as determined as the look on his face. What was he doing here?

  "Leave, Your Grace. You're not welcome here," she said, marching back toward the lake and ignoring his calls for her to stop. She would never stop being angry at him. What he had done had made her look the fool. All this time, he knew of her plan while working for his friend. She cringed, her stomach threatening to bring up her dinner at the thought of it all.

  "Stop. Olivia, wait."

  She heard him running, and she took a calming breath, not wanting to listen to a word from him. Never again did she even want to see his two-faced mouth.

  He caught up to her, clasping her hand to pull her to a stop. She wrenched free, startling him. "Do not touch me, Hamlyn. Do not ever touch me again."

  The pain etched on his face pulled at the place her heart once beat, but she thrust it aside. Reminded herself what he'd done. What he and Oglemoore had schemed.

  "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Olivia. Oglemoore was wrong to tell you what he did. His scheme was never meant to hurt you, merely let you down gently without him having to tell you outright that he did not want to offer marriage."

  His words hurt, stung, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "How hard is it to be honest? I'm a grown woman, I can listen to a great many things and not get emotional."

  "I know that," he said, tipping his head to one side, willing her to forgive him with his sad, worried frown, but she would not. She'd been humiliated in front of the ton. There was no forgiveness for such a slight.

  "Oglemoore should have told you the truth. Hell, I should have told you the truth, but when you asked me to tease him into thinking he'd made a mistake, I decided another path. I enjoyed spending time with you, and if you found out Oglemoore was indeed courting another, and the game was over, I feared you would push me aside. I did not want to lose you."

  "You did not want to stop tupping me is what you ought to be saying. Well," she said, starting for the pond once more, "you will not be touching me again ever, so I hope your game with Oglemoore was worth your time."

  "Damn it, Olivia, listen to me." He clasped her arm, pulling her around. "I saw no harm in doing either Oglemoore's bidding or yours. When you seemed to lose interest in Oglemoore I thought it a blessing that perhaps you liked me more than your own game. My courting of you may have started at the behest of my friend, but it is not why I continued once we returned to London. I wanted to be with you. I enjoyed your conversation and wit. At someplace along the way, I wanted you for myself."

  Olivia stepped back. He wanted her for himself? "Pardon?"

  "I'm in love with you, Olivia. I traveled here as soon as I found out what had occurred in London. Since yesterday morning, after being denied entry for the second day in a row, I have been hiding in your woods. I hoped to catch you in the garden, and it wasn't until tonight that my luck changed."

  Olivia watched as Jasper's lips moved, explained how he came to be here, but her mind had halted thought at the five words he just admitted. He was in love with her?

  "You're in love with me?" she repeated, hating to sound so arrested.

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair, stepping closer. "I am utterly, absolutely, wholeheartedly in love wi
th you." He rummaged in his coat pocket, pulling out a small blue velvet box. "I had planned on giving this to you the night we were to meet again, but I suppose now is as good a time as any." He opened it, and she gasped, stepping back.

  A diamond circled by dark-green emeralds twinkled up at her in the twilight. She met Jasper's gaze, unable to fathom what was happening. She was angry with him, she reminded herself. Had promised all sorts of retribution against his person, some of which may have involved torture. His asking to marry her had not been in her mind.

  "Marry me, Olivia. I adore and love you so very much. You have my heart, and I do not want to be parted from you again. Please tell me you'll be mine."

  Not quite ready to forgive him, she crossed her arms to stop herself from reaching for the stunning ring. "If you marry me, you do know that you'll be the butt of all jokes in town for marrying a woman who is the latest on dit. Are you proposing to save my reputation? Because I'd rather not have you if that is all my marriage will be, another falsehood."

  "No." He reached for her, wrapping her in his arms. For a moment, Olivia thought about trying to escape his grip, but then, being in his arms again was a comfort that she'd missed these past three days. "While I do care about what people think of you, I also do not care what they think of my proposing. I know that I'm asking because I want you and no one else. Oglemoore is right at this moment sporting my opinion of him on his face, and I want you to show what I think of you on your finger. I'm the Duke of Hamlyn, no one would dare speak a word of Oglemoore's ploy against you from this day forward."

  She narrowed her eyes, and yet, at his words, a little of her ire left her. "The ton will laugh at me, behind my back. I cannot return to London."

  "I will blacken everyone's nose should they dare speak a word of Oglemoore's scheme."

  Olivia debated hating him still, but at his earnestness, his soulful eyes, she could not. She reached up, wrapping her arms about his neck. Oh, how she had missed him. The thought that he was lost to her had broken her soul in two, never to be the same again.

 

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