He read the message for the tenth time. Why did he get the impression she truly needed assistance? Perhaps she was only being polite. But something told him otherwise.
Deep inside him was the urge to attempt the role of hero once more and help someone in need. To play a valiant knight rescuing a damsel in distress.
What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he learned how terrible things could go when he permitted himself to think he might make a difference?
He closed his eyes for a moment before crushing the message. “Tell the footman there is no reply.”
~*~
The following afternoon, Julia braced herself as she and her father made their way to the lecture hall at the Simpkin Museum near Notting Hill. She rarely attended these sort of events with her father. He liked going by himself as he met his friends and fellow members of the society. They enjoyed debating the pros and cons of all sorts of topics. Most were elderly men and considered themselves experts. They were all extremely opinionated, which was one of the many reasons she didn’t care to attend. Their arguments were endless.
But as much effort as it had taken to convince her father to step away from his project, she’d decided she needed to make certain he didn’t change his mind during the ride here. They walked slowly along as she’d advised the driver to park a short distance away so they’d have the opportunity to walk.
The overcast day was muggy, the air heavy. Her chemise clung to her in places she’d rather it didn’t. She thrust aside the uncomfortable feeling and focused on enjoying the stroll with her father.
“Why didn’t the driver bring us closer, Julia?” he asked. “This is a rather long way to walk.”
“I thought you might appreciate the chance to stretch your legs. You’ve been so busy with your project that you haven’t done that for a few days.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He glanced around as though looking for someone. “Didn’t you say Frost would be attending?”
“It sounded as though he might.” She said a quick prayer to ask for forgiveness. Another lie. She didn’t know if he’d bother as he hadn’t responded to her last message. The footman had returned saying there was no reply. She had no idea what to make of his lack of response. Perhaps he’d had enough of her and her messages.
“What was the topic of today’s lecture?”
She looked closely at her father, trying to determine how aware he was. Had he forgotten already? Or perhaps he hadn’t truly listened when they’d discussed it yesterday? Worry plagued her. This sort of behavior was exactly why she’d wanted to pry him away from his desk. He needed to think of something else for a time, to breathe fresh air, or rather, outside air at any rate. Though the walk wasn’t long, it would do him a world of good.
“Remember?” she asked. “Mr. Morris is discussing his recent publication, The Earthly Paradise.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right.” He nodded, and she noted with some relief the blank expression he’d held slid away. In its place was a more focused interest in his surroundings.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m most anxious to speak with Frost.” He glanced around as though expecting to see the viscount walking toward them.
Julia bit her lower lip. She doubted Oliver would make an appearance though she couldn’t eliminate her hope. Perhaps she should’ve worded that last message differently. That’s what she got for asking for help with her father.
They walked up the steps to the building’s main entrance, and the hall was immediately to the left. Quite a few people were already in attendance. A podium stood at the front of the room and rows and rows of chairs were set up for the audience. Apparently they were expecting a significant number of people today.
“Do you see him?” her father asked.
“Not yet.” She didn’t bother to look around. She didn’t think he was coming. “Perhaps we could sit toward the back so he can join us more easily if he arrives.”
“Excellent idea.”
They found seats but her father soon excused himself to speak with several acquaintances. Julia prepared herself for a boring afternoon. The few lectures she’d attended were long, dreary speeches given by men who seemed to believe the information they shared did not need to be delivered in an interesting manner. As though the material was so exciting on its own, the speaker bore no responsibility in making certain it was given with enthusiasm.
An odd feeling crept over her, setting the back of her neck tingling. As she started to glance around to determine the cause, Oliver slid into the seat next to her.
The pleasure that filled her went far deeper than it should’ve. Her cheeks heated, and her heartbeat sped. How could his mere presence please her quite so much?
He nodded at her, those green eyes of his guarded. From the firm set of his lips, she’d guess he was less than pleased to be there. Yet as she studied his expression more closely, she saw something else in the tight lines of his face. From the brackets around his mouth and the tension near his eyes, it almost seemed as if he were uncomfortable.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, unable to quell her rising sympathy at his obvious discomfort.
Again he nodded, this time not looking at her, but glancing about the room.
Compelled by an impetus she couldn’t name, she reached out a gloved hand and rested it on his arm. Perhaps the urge to touch him was only to express her gratitude for coming to the lecture. But she worried it was something more—much more.
She had no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Eight
“I think that I may go as far as to assert that so complete is the disbelief in the honesty of their servants by these masters, that to the best of their ability they provide against loss by theft by paying the said servants very little wages. A notable instance of this is furnished by the omnibus conductors...”
~The Seven Curses of London
Oliver latched onto Julia’s smile like a drowning man might grab a life preserver. He focused on it as he continued to breathe, beating back the anxiety clawing up the back of his throat.
This was a far more difficult outing than he’d anticipated, much to his surprise. He didn’t understand why—unless it had to do with the fact that he’d remained home for the past two days. If it hadn’t been for the knowledge that Julia was inside the hall, waiting for him, he would’ve returned to his library.
Having made it this far, he couldn’t decide whether to curse her for managing to convince him to come or thank her for the gift of her smile. And it was a gift. The ray of light that started in her eyes then lit her face before curving her rosy lips was a true work of art.
Looking at her made him question how his life had spiraled to this. Where he was reduced to a mass of nerves when he left the sanctuary of his home. He remembered those first few weeks after leaving the Navy. It had only taken him two or three outings to realize how unsettling the world was compared to the quiet peace of his library. When he studied books, he could quiet the cries in his head and push aside the terrible memories of his last mission. The less he ventured out, the more normal he could pretend he was.
But it was all a lie.
If it hadn’t been for that one word in her last message, please, he wouldn’t be in this precarious position. He kept his gaze on her, doing his best to ignore the growing crowd around him. The volume of voices in the lecture hall rose, adding to his discomfort. The sound was far too similar to the cries of soldiers. He didn’t care to be reminded of those terrible days in Africa. It made him want to hold his hands over his ears, or worse, yell until everyone shut the hell up.
That would be unacceptable, for then everyone would see the brute he tried so hard to hide. Each time he went out, it threatened to reveal itself. The thin façade of civility he wore was only a mask, nothing more, and a fragile one at that.
Focusing on Julia made it easier to keep that persona in place, as though he were normal and didn’t require a massive effort to pretend it was true
when in situations such as this.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she whispered, leaning so close he caught her sweet scent.
He drew it in, one more tether to hold his sanity in place. Her hand remained on his arm, and he dearly wanted to place his own over it so he could keep it there. With effort, he attempted to gather his thoughts for a reply. “Your message sounded rather desperate.”
“I fear Father is taking your project far too seriously.”
“But it is serious.” He frowned, wondering if he hadn’t made that clear.
“I understand, but Father’s health is also of concern.” She glanced around as though to make certain he wasn’t within hearing distance. “He isn’t eating. He hardly moves from his desk. I had to lure him out this afternoon and have the carriage drop us a short distance away so he would get some exercise.”
Oliver frowned. “If it’s too much for him, then convince him to sell me the book. I have no wish to cause him harm.”
“But it’s also the reason he’s taking an interest in life again. I just want him to find some balance.”
“Balance?” Oliver asked. That was a concept he had yet to grasp himself. In fact, he was no longer certain it was possible.
“Balancing purpose with pleasure is the path to a healthy life. My aunt is convinced of it.”
He didn’t hear anything beyond the word “pleasure.” The mere mention of the term coming from her sent need coursing through him. His focus shifted to the line of her jaw, the upsweep of her hair that revealed the length of her alabaster neck. Her hat was a clever arrangement in a lilac shade that matched her gown. The simple neckline drew his gaze to the creamy expanse that led to the swell of her breasts.
“Don’t you agree?”
His gaze moved up to her face, and he realized he’d missed what she’d just said. He glanced away, giving a noncommittal sound that could be taken as a response. Somehow he had to gather his wits if he wanted to survive this afternoon.
The Earl of Burnham and several of his friends descended on them. Oliver rose to greet them, keeping Julia as close to his side as he could. Having her there helped make the curious gazes and questions bearable. Her presence soothed him in a way he wasn’t ready to question. He only knew he needed her.
“Enjoyed your article on Charlemagne’s realm, Frost,” one elderly man said after Burnham had made introductions. “What were your sources?”
Before he could answer, another man interjected. “Your arguments as to why chivalry is still relevant were quite fascinating.”
Oliver soon realized he didn’t have to participate in the conversation, merely nod at times. They all seemed to like to hear themselves talk and continually interrupted or talked over each other.
When the moderator called for everyone to take their seats, he gratefully took his beside Julia. That seemed to be the only way to remain calm. He was pleased she’d chosen to sit in the rear of the room, which put the majority of the people in view. He didn’t care to have his back to the entrance, but it eased his mind to know few, if any, were behind him.
After Mr. Morris’s numerous accomplishments were noted, he moved to stand before the podium. The man was rather engaging as a speaker, adding personal anecdotes while he shared his research. Medievalism was making a revival in many circles. He argued the reason for this was because modern times were dirty and fast-paced with the onset of industrialism. Daily life had changed significantly, from things such as travel to new inventions in the home. The medieval period might be viewed as dark by some, but others looked upon it as a simpler time, romantic in many ways.
Oliver supposed much of that was true, though if anyone in this room actually found themselves living in medieval times, they might think differently. Running water, gas lights, and toilets were only a few modern conveniences that came to mind.
As the lecture became more lofty with Morris’s theories, he noted Julia beginning to fidget. At first it was merely the toe of her shoe tapping idly. Then it moved to her hands as she adjusted each and every finger of her gloves. Then she sighed and eased closer to him.
The speaker’s voice became nothing but a buzzing sound in his head as Oliver’s focus moved solely to the lady beside him. The heat of her body seeped into his. He shifted as though to adjust his legs but managed to move closer. Her father sat on the opposite side of her and appeared completely engrossed in the lecture.
Oliver moved his hand to rest near hers, the need to hold it surprising him. He couldn’t deny that he liked to touch her, but this longing involved more than that. He enjoyed being in her presence. She soothed his rough edges and eased his worries. He couldn’t help but frown at the realization.
“What is it?” she asked, her whisper in his ear sending chills down his back.
Unable to resist, he turned to face her so they were almost touching. Almost, but not quite. Close enough that a sizzle of awareness filled him. After a long moment, he drew back to look into her eyes, curious to know if she felt a physical reaction too.
The sparkle of awareness in those blue eyes pleased him more than it should’ve. She blinked several times as though to clear it. “Is something amiss?”
“I might ask the same of you.” She was the one who couldn’t sit still.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible, despite how close they were.
“You seem restless.”
She looked back at the speaker as though feigning listening. A few moments later, she whispered, “These chairs are terribly uncomfortable.”
Her father leaned forward to frown at her. She nodded in understanding and looked at the speaker again, staying still for several minutes before the fidgeting began once more.
Oliver didn’t believe the chairs were the problem. She was much like a butterfly, only coming to rest for a brief time before fluttering away. The least he could do was provide a distraction to aid her as she so often did for him. He leaned close to whisper, “What did you mean when you wrote ‘please’ in your message?”
A lovely blush filled her cheeks, but he wasn’t certain why. For a moment, he didn’t think she’d answer.
“I really wanted you to attend.”
He stilled, trying to determine what she meant. Rather than answering his question, she’d created another.
She leaned close again, and he felt the expulsion of her breath in his ear—felt it down to his toes. “You were the only reason my father agreed to come.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. Disappointment quickly followed. How ridiculous to think she might want to spend time with him. Of course she didn’t. Who would? He was gruff. His manners lacked polish after years of little use. Nor did he want her to want to spend time with him.
He closed his eyes as he realized how absurd that sounded even in his own mind.
In truth, he had nothing to offer this woman, nor did he have any intention of changing that. He was unfit company by any stretch of the imagination even with his thin mask of civility.
“Thank you again.” She reached out and placed that gloved hand on his thigh for a brief moment. The contact felt glorious.
He stared at the pale glove against his dark trousers, wishing it would stay there as much as he feared it would.
Then it was gone, taking her heat with it.
The remainder of the lecture passed slowly. While aware of Julia’s restless form beside him, he still managed to find parts of the presentation interesting.
When applause filled the room at the end of it, Oliver rose and stepped outside, needing space. He leaned against one of the tall, marble columns that graced the front of the building, partially shielded from the entrance. To his relief, most people remained inside to talk with each other or the speaker.
Julia followed him within a few minutes. “You’re not leaving already, are you? Father wanted a few minutes of your time.”
“Just needed some fresh air.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said with an understan
ding that seemed far too perceptive. “That was quite the crowd. Normally there aren’t so many in attendance.”
“Do you always come with your father?”
“Not unless I have to. It’s difficult to sit still for that long.” She stood directly before him, a hint of a smile gracing her lips.
He refrained from touching her, but she didn’t seem to have the same problem. She placed her hand on his arm again, lightly touching him for a moment as her gaze held his. “Thank you again for coming. It means so much to my father. He says he has some interesting items to share with you.” She leaned closer. “I’m not sure they are truly of relevance, but if you would pretend they’re helpful, I’d be in your debt.”
She was so close he could see tiny flecks of gold in the blue of her eyes. No wonder she made him think of sunshine. He couldn’t help but touch her then, grazing his finger just beneath her jaw. He expected her to draw back, but she only lifted her chin.
Did she realize that was an irresistible invitation?
He bent and claimed her mouth with his. It was a gentle, tender kiss yet filled him with a poignant longing. Well aware of the risk he took by kissing her so near the entrance, he ended it quickly. Despite the brevity, his heart pounded in response.
Damn but the taste of her only made him want more.
“Oh,” she said breathlessly, her gaze holding on his mouth.
“Your father—” he began.
“Will surely be looking for us. Yes.” She stepped back and glanced around the column toward the entrance. “Here he is now.”
Oliver reined in his emotions as Lord Burnham joined them, realizing he needed to leave as quickly as possible. Obviously the outing was proving to be more than he could manage in more than one way. Yet when his gaze met Julia’s, he was reminded of why she’d asked him here.
“How is the research coming along?” he asked the earl. “I hope it’s not too much of a burden. The book is over two hundred pages.”
“I’m thoroughly enjoying it. Albert acquired much knowledge in many areas of the physical sciences. Most of the references pertain to animals but there are a few to rocks, minerals, and herbs. There’s also a lengthy section on folk remedies I’ve found fascinating.”
Charming the Scholar (The Seven Curses of London Book 2) Page 9