Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(48)

“She gave you kittens?” Mr. Beechcroft said for at least the hundredth time. It seemed his father was as perplexed by the choice of Olivia’s gift as Edward himself was.

“She did.” Edward drew Mr. Whiskers out of the basket and tucked him up against his shirtfront. “Lady Olivia has a penchant for rescuing strays.” Like me, he thought to himself with a smile. “I believe she thought she could improve the kittens’ lives by finding them new homes.” Thank goodness she hadn’t brought all of the kittens.

Edward’s father leaned forward with his hands out. “I can take the other one. I don’t want it to feel abandoned.”

Of course not. Edward himself was proof of that—close to three decades ago, Mr. Beechcroft had had the chance to shrug off his responsibilities, and he had chosen to own up to them. Edward had never once felt abandoned, even though he had felt many other things.

“Here you go. I believe the animal’s name is Scamp.” Edward handed the kitten over to his father, wincing as tiny claws dug in.

“There, there,” Mr. Beechcroft said, smiling down at the kitten. “You are going to like being in the country. Much better than London.”

“You’ll enjoy it better too, if I’m not mistaken,” Edward said.

Mr. Beechcroft paused in the middle of petting Scamp to look at his son. “You’re going to miss London though, if I’m not mistaken.”

Edward felt his chest tighten. He was. He was going to miss seeing her, needling her on her outrage, watching her champion ducks and bastards alike. Kissing her.

Yet he knew she would never be for him, knew she still believed herself in love with his best friend.

Which meant he knew full well it was a good thing he wouldn’t be seeing her any longer. Even though it hurt.

The pain would ebb, and eventually she’d find someone—not Bennett—to marry, and Bennett would let him know, and Edward could pretend it didn’t hurt.

“We’ll go see your doctor the day after we arrive home.”

“And depending on what he says, perhaps we will return to London after all.” Apparently Mr. Beechcroft was not to be deterred.

He should just talk about it then, since his father wouldn’t relent until he had heard firsthand how his son felt.

“I know you want what is best for me,” he began, knowing that that was the absolute truth. “And I know you think that marriage to a respectable female is what is best for me. And that, perhaps, I have grown fond of Lady Olivia.” And aggravated and amused and enchanted.

“But the thing is, I have no desire to marry anyone until I know your health has been taken care of as best it can. I don’t know why I let you convince me otherwise. Why we stayed in London for as long as we did when we should have returned home so you could rest and see your usual doctor.” Edward grimaced. “That is, I do know why I let you convince me otherwise. Because you are remarkably persuasive, as all your business partners know. But I shouldn’t have listened. And Lady Olivia is, unfortunately, persuaded that she cares for—for another,” he said, stumbling over the phrasing. His father liked Bennett well enough, but Edward didn’t trust his father wouldn’t take Olivia’s purported feelings for Bennett as an affront.

“I know you could persuade her she cares for you,” his father replied. “If you wanted her to.”

If I wanted her to.

Did he want her to? What did it matter, anyway? There was no possibility of his seeing her again. His first and only concern was his father, not whether Lady Olivia could be persuaded to fall in love with a bastard like him.

“Perhaps,” he replied, leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes, and tucking Mr. Whiskers under his chin.



“Thank you for your visit, ladies.” The matron of the home never seemed to be as honored by Olivia and Pearl’s visits as Olivia might have wished. In fact, she might have possibly spotted the lady suppressing exasperation when Olivia was merely trying to point out a better way of doing things.

But today, Olivia knew, would be different. And that was because she had Edward’s draft tucked in her pocket, and she was going to present it after she and Pearl had donated the shifts.

She didn’t want the shifts to get short shrift, after all. And then nearly guffawed at her own joke.

It was a good thing she did feel like laughing—Pearl had commented that for the last few days Olivia had seemed like a faint copy of herself. Not smiling, not managing, arguing only a little when their mother had insisted Olivia adored shirred eggs, when it was actually Pearl.

She knew just why she was feeling so out-of-sorts, and she did not like it one bit. Even though she did like him, the Other, more than one bit. And that was the problem.

She missed him. She kept going to parties and glancing around for him before remembering he wasn’t there. That he was off being an honorable son, even though the world would say he was dishonorable. Olivia knew better. As usual.

“You can put the parcels just there,” the matron said, gesturing to a corner of the room where it looked like a hundred shifts had been placed already. Olivia felt her mouth open into an O of surprise, and glanced over at Pearl, who was glaring back at her.

Of course. Because Pearl had done the most work on the shifts, and Olivia had believed their donation to be essential, when it appeared that, in fact, they were not.