Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(40)

That Olivia did not regret it was her own problem, and something with which she berated herself at various hours of the day. It was like a clock chiming, it was so regular.

Oh! Time to regret one of the best experiences of my life!

“Lady Olivia,” Lord Carson said as they approached. “It is lovely to see you this evening.”

“And you, my lord,” Olivia said, dipping into a curtsey. Trying not to assess Mr. Wolcott the same way he’d done to her. Though it was admittedly difficult, what with his being all tall and spectacularly and elegantly dressed, the messy disarray of his curls the only item not presented to perfection, which made him seem even more handsome.

“And may I present Miss Hunter? She is making her debut this year. Lord Carson, this is Miss Hunter. Mr. Wolcott, Miss Hunter.”

They made their various “pleased to meet you’s” and other pleasantries until an awkward silence fell over them.

Did she have to do all the work?

She did. Suppressing a roll of her eyes, she began to speak.





Chapter 12




Don’t think too much about things that are in the past. Look only to the future.

Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Decorum



“The party is delightful, don’t you think?”

She had on her most sparkling expression, and yet Edward could tell it was forced. At least, he hoped it was forced. Because if some of her brain wasn’t currently reviewing the details of that passionate kiss, he would have to lower his mark of his kissing skills. Which he knew was high.

“And the music.” She nodded encouragingly at them in turn, her expression faltering as she looked at him. Say something, her eyes seemed to express.

Well, he couldn’t deny any of her wishes. Not when she wished to kiss him, and not now when she was so desperate for him to meet this wispy young lady whose presence he’d barely noticed, his attention having been taken so much with her.

“The music is indeed glorious,” he agreed. He held his hand to her. “Would you care to more fully experience it and dance with me?”

Her gaze darted angrily between him and Miss Hunter, and he wished it were acceptable to lean his head back and laugh at her obvious discomfiture.

It was not, however, so he just clamped his jaw so he wouldn’t laugh and let his hand dangle out there, a physical reminder of what he’d just asked her.

“Fine,” she said in a terse voice, taking his hand. “Let us dance.”

“And Miss Hunter, could I persuade you to dance?” Edward heard Bennett say behind them as they walked onto the dance floor.

He could feel how rigidly angry she was, and wondered just what it was about her ire that made him so—delighted.

When he was concentrating on her, on her emotions, he felt the warmth and heat of them spread all over him, like a blanket that nonetheless prickled.

He probably shouldn’t tell her she reminded him of a prickly blanket.

Nor, honestly, should they dance together, because with her being all stiff and irritated, and him being the dancer he was, he would likely end up stepping thoroughly on her pride as well as her feet.

Instead—“Come out here for a moment,” he said, guiding her to the windows that opened onto the terrace. She didn’t argue, for once, but let him walk her quickly out into the night.

It was blissfully quiet out here, a welcome relief from the societal cacophony of inside. Not for the first time, he wished his father wasn’t so set on his joining this world—he didn’t particularly like it, or the people who were in it. He’d much prefer to be useful or entertained, whether that meant working on furthering his father’s business ventures or galloping one of his horses while on the hunt in the country.

“Why are we out here? Why didn’t you ask Miss Hunter to dance rather than me? That was the point, you know,” she said in an aggrieved tone, folding her arms over her chest and glaring up at him.

A deliciously prickly sparkling blanket.

It was unfortunate he was going to be leaving at the end of the week.

“I do know,” he said, reaching out and pulling one of her arms away from her body and taking her hand in his. She kept the other arm locked around herself, and he wondered if she knew just how tempted he was to remove that and pull her close against him. “I didn’t want to lead Miss Hunter on in any way.” Which was laughable, since the lady would likely be appalled to think that he was even possible as a suitor. “Because I am leaving London at the end of the week. I know I am thus depriving you of your opportunity to win our challenge, make me entirely respectable and find me a bride.” God help him. “So I will, of course, honor the commitment I made to you and donate a thousand pounds to the charity of your choice.”

Her expression got both piqued and angry, and he watched as she tried to figure out what to say in reply.

He wished it would be “Well then, kiss me again, you idiot,” but he strongly suspected it would not.

“But why?”

He hadn’t expected her to sound so—so lost. As though she were truly going to miss him.

“I—have to,” he began, and then heard the words rush out of him, as though he wasn’t in control of speaking them at all. “I have to take care of my father. He’s—he’s been given some news about his health, and he has said he will return home so we can see his usual doctor. I can’t let him stay here in London just because . . .”