Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(28)

And not completely unaware, it seemed. Edward wished it wouldn’t be entirely rude to tilt his head back and roar with laughter.

As it was, he must have made some sort of amused sound, since Olivia shifted so she could deliver a kick to his foot.

“We’ve been feeding the ducks,” Olivia continued, gesturing to the pond behind them. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it, that certain ducks get more food than others simply because of their position in the pond?”

Edward didn’t think they were talking about ducks now.

“Eh?” Lord Baxford’s expression was puzzled. “Ducks?”

“Ducks, Father.” Lady Cecilia took her father’s arm. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wolcott.”

“Likewise, my lady. My lord,” Edward said, tilting his head toward the pair. “I will doubtless be seeing you at some event or another. I hope I might be allowed to ask for a dance, my lady?”

There. That was as polite in Society as he could get. He just hoped she wouldn’t say no.

“Mr. Wolcott is a good friend of Lord Carson’s,” Olivia added in the silence following his question.

Lady Cecilia pulled her lips back into a semblance of a smile. Edward had to wonder why Olivia had even bothered with the Baxfords, since it was clear the two ladies did not like one another. “Lord Carson is a fine gentleman,” she said. “I would be pleased to accept your invitation, Mr. Wolcott.” She dipped her head in a gracious nod, then walked away on her father’s arm.

“That . . . that . . .” Olivia sputtered next to him.

“Greedy duck?” Edward supplied.

She glared at him, then grinned and burst out in laughter, clapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes dancing merrily.

He returned the grin, shoving his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her laughing mouth.

Even though he was very tempted, so his hands-in-pocket ploy wasn’t working. But at least he wasn’t acting on his wishes.





Chapter 9




Do not allow yourself to waver from your goals. No matter how rakish the curls.

Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Decorum



For a moment, it seemed as though Mr. Wolcott was going to do something. Something like—well, something that wasn’t arguing with her or laughing at her or getting all offended when she said something thoughtless.

Something like kiss her.

Olivia had yet to be kissed; she’d been reserving that honor for Bennett. She’d hoped it would be on the occasion of their betrothal, but that hadn’t happened, so obviously the kiss hadn’t either.

And for a moment, Olivia had wanted him to kiss her. Him, not Bennett. She hadn’t thought of Bennett all morning if she were being honest with herself.

What was wrong with her?

She couldn’t address that now.

“Why did you bring that lady over here when it is so clear you dislike each other?”

Olivia bristled automatically, then relaxed when she realized he wasn’t necessarily criticizing her. He was actually regarding her with an expression of—curiosity? And a kind of warmth?

She hadn’t seen that expression from many people before. Most people looked at her with amusement, as he had, or with boredom. Usually when she was regaling them with details of someone less well off.

“Well, it is true that Lady Cecilia and I are not the best of friends,” she admitted. Even before she’d seen that lady trying to lure Bennett into her clutches. “But Lord Baxford is a friend of my father’s, and I know that he is a notable person to call an acquaintance. I do not like Lady Cecilia as you can tell,” she added.

It felt refreshing to share with Mr. Wolcott. To show him she was not perfect, although of course he already knew that, given that the first time they’d met she’d thrown something in the approximate direction of his head. She winced as she recalled it.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone gentle.

She glanced over at Pearl, whom she’d forgotten during this entire time. Thankfully, Pearl was still engrossed in sewing the next-to-last shift, her head bent over her work. She did not want to have to answer if Pearl asked her what she felt about Mr. Wolcott. Mostly because she didn’t know herself.

“I wish I hadn’t said what I did. When we first met.” She looked down as she spoke but tilted her face up when his fingers came under her chin.

She felt her breath hitch as she looked into his dark eyes. She couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting over his face, from his strong nose to his mouth. Lord, his mouth.

His upper lip had an indent right in the middle, and she could see the stubble just beginning to come in. She was glad he was clean-shaven, even though variations on facial hair were more in fashion. This way, she got to see the clean lines of his face, to admire how strong his jawline was. How he dragged his lower lip into his mouth and bit it when he was thinking.

He was doing it right now.

“It’s fine. You didn’t say anything everybody hasn’t thought.” That he was speaking the truth didn’t lessen how bad she felt.

“That’s almost worse. I’m supposed to be better than other people. To care more than other people. I do care more than other people, I know it is my purpose to fix things.”