Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(16)

“I might have a solution,” Bennett said in his calm, arguing-a-bill-in-the-House-of-Commons voice.

Edward turned to regard Bennett with one brow raised. “What do you suggest?” he asked. Was this Bennett’s distraction plan? The one that would keep the lady from proposing again and Edward from losing his temper? Even though he’d found himself nearly as amused as he was frustrated, which was different from usual. Normally he just growled inside his head, but at least now he wanted to laugh also.

She was still looking at him, her cheeks flushed red, her lush mouth set into a firm line. As though she had much more to say but was being polite.

“Well,” Bennett began, gesturing between them. “Edward, you have a situation, one that requires you to be accepted by Society.”

He was not going to—

“Which is that your father has made it clear he wishes you to marry someone deserving of you. Someone of gentle breeding and good stock.”

He was. Now who was the bastard?

“You’re not saying she—and I,” Edward sputtered, gesturing between them.

She looked more startled than he felt, which was saying something.

“No,” Bennett said hurriedly. “Not that. Just that if it were to be seen that Lady Olivia found favor with you, perhaps it would be easier for you to find a lady who would suit. And,” he continued, turning to Lady Olivia, “I believe there is no better person who could assist my good friend in finding a wife.”

Lady Olivia’s expression changed from horror to relief. Edward wished that didn’t bother him quite so much.

“Oh, what a splendid idea!” she said, smiling. Her whole face was lit, her eyes wide and excited. Her lips shaped into a perfect O of delight, making Edward lose his focus for a moment.

What would it be like to kiss that mouth? Those rosy lips that seemed to be so bitable?

Although he knew full well that was not at all in the lady’s thoughts, given her reaction to even the possibility of marrying him.

She took his arm, nodding to Bennett at the same time. “If you do not mind, Lord Carson, I will whisk your friend away so we can discuss this further in private. Thank you so much for bringing us together.”

Edward couldn’t help but notice Bennett’s look of smug satisfaction as Olivia steered him toward two chairs at the edge of the ballroom.



Olivia tried to calm her breathing, but for once she was not in control. Not of her breath, her future, or of how she felt when she was in Mr. Wolcott’s presence.

As he had been the first evening she had seen him, he was dressed impeccably, all of his clothing obviously tailored precisely to his admittedly attractive body.

She was surprised he didn’t tip over because his shoulders were so wide and his waist and hips were so lean. If she had paid more attention to her governess when she was discussing maths and gravity and other things that made no sense to Olivia, perhaps she could have understood it better.

As it was, she just had admiration for the entire presentation of him.

And now he was one of her official projects, perhaps the most important project of her life: if she were to get him accepted into Society and find him a bride, Bennett would finally see she was the wife he was meant to have.

So it was terribly vital that she not get distracted by pondering the strength of his arms. Or how his dark curls made him look like a rakish devil. Or how his legs were so long his tailor must have charged him more for his trousers.

But from what she knew, Mr. Wolcott could well afford it, given who his father was.

Olivia nodded to Mr. Wolcott to sit as she was sitting down on one of the chairs. “Please get comfortable, Mr. Wolcott. I will have several questions for you.”

She regretted that her small evening purse couldn’t accommodate a notebook and pencil so she could jot down what he said. She’d just have to try to remember.

“I appreciate your interest, my lady,” he said, grimacing as he spoke. As though he did not appreciate her interest. “But there is no need for you to concern yourself with—with any of this,” he said, gesticulating toward where the party-goers danced and chatted on, unaware that there was a great miscarriage of justice in their midst.

“But I am concerned, sir,” Olivia replied, edging her chair toward his in her enthusiasm. “I cannot stand by while there is someone who is in need of my help.” She tried to forget that she herself had been guilty of miscarrying justice when it came to this particular man—after all, she’d been upset by what Bennett had said. How they would all laugh together when it was settled and she and Bennett were married, and Mr. Wolcott had found a bride of his own.

She smiled to herself at the thought.

“You often come to people’s rescue, then?” Mr. Wolcott said in a milder tone. It seemed as if he were actually curious, which warmed her heart. And made her realize how few of the people she spoke to seemed to show interest in anything she championed. Except for Pearl, but it was part of being a twin to show interest in things.

“I do.” She took a deep breath, wishing she wasn’t in a constricting evening gown. What if she were called upon to right a wrong? A wrong that required freedom of movement?

She would have to decline because she was elegantly garbed. Not really the type of excuse she would stand for from anyone else, let alone herself.

“I will not allow anyone to suffer because I did not do something, you see, Mr. Wolcott,” she explained. “I am fortunate enough to have been born to wealth and privilege. It is my duty to use that position to help those who are less fortunate than I.”