Olivia could very well believe that. She counted backward and realized he’d lost his father not long after she’d met him the first time.
“Don’t lean on the wall. There’s no telling how strong it is.”
“Speak of the devil,” Nathaniel said with a taunt.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder to follow her companion’s gaze.
“Making up stories about me again, Nate?” Gabriel stared at Olivia despite the fact that he was speaking to his brother.
Standing with the scalloped stone wall behind him, she could easily imagine Gabriel as a knight, or a lord defending his palace from invading marauders. A shiver, a not unpleasant one, swept through her at the thought.
She could only hold his gaze for the briefest of moments before the others began appearing from the stairwell, one by one; Louella, Lady Priscilla, and Lord Lockley.
Olivia wrapped her arms in front of her, as though chilled from the wind. The sun was warm enough, however. It was the baron’s glance that made her skin crawl.
She was in the company of some of the most elite people in all of England. They’d been educated and raised to adhere to the strictest of Society’s standards. She ought to feel utterly safe. But for some reason… she did not.
Why was it that all her senses went on alert whenever the baron was present? She must be imagining things. She stared off into the distance at a few clouds drifting by. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d imagined something that wasn’t there.
Having enjoyed Gabriel’s brother’s most amicable company for far too much time already, she wanted to enjoy the old abbey alone. She wanted to peek into all the openings they’d passed on the way up and see if any artifacts might have been left behind.
She simply needed to be somewhere where she didn’t feel like everything she did was being watched and judged. Maybe then she could breathe normally. Be herself, if only for a little while.
As unobtrusively as possible, Olivia sidled around the edge of the group, waited until Louella’s back was turned, and slipped back into the stairwell.
Although protected from the wind in the tower, without the sun or her exertions to warm her, she was suddenly glad of the heavy material of her riding habit.
The cool darkness offered a very different protection.
She was enjoying the house party, as much as was possible, what with coming face to face again with Gabriel, and his fiancée, no less.
And liking her.
And everyone had been inordinately kind to her. Although not everyone was comfortable meeting her eyes, most made an effort.
But she needed to be alone. She’d spent so much of her life somewhat isolated that she found it quite exhausting to be around others for most of the day.
At the first landing, she exited the stairwell and investigated what had most likely been bedchambers or prayer rooms. There were very few windows and anything that had left behind was obviously long gone. Some animals’ nests and an old blanket.
Had Gabriel slept in one of these rooms?
She jumped when a bird came flying out of one of them and then laughed at herself.
The next floor wasn’t much different, except the rooms seemed smaller but more plentiful.
Ready to find her way back to the stairwell, she stiffened upon hearing voices. Was that Nathaniel looking for her? But no…
She’d heard such sounds before… when she’d been searching for privacy outside of Louella’s ball.
“My lady.” A gravelly, ragged sound. Followed by whimpers and sighs.
Surely, not Lady Priscilla? And the only possible gentleman then… was Lord Lockley.
Olivia knew she’d been off by herself for quite a while already. Unwilling to cause any trouble, she wanted to get to the bottom of the Abbey without further delay.
If she could just slip past this doorway without making any noise. One step, two…
She couldn’t help but glance inside. The lady’s black flowing hair tumbled down her back and her arms wound tightly around the gentleman’s neck. At the exact moment Olivia would have moved along, the baron glanced up and caught her watching them.
He did not seem embarrassed or in any way protective of Lady Priscilla, whose gown had been dragged off her shoulders. Furthermore, he did not make any attempt to alert Lady Priscilla that the two of them were no longer alone.
No, he lowered his lips, nipped at Lady Priscilla’s ear and dropped one eyelid in a wink.
“Lockley,” Lady Priscilla uttered.
Olivia scampered away.
As she was about to make her way down, she lifted her hand to her head. She’d left her hat on the top floor.
She loved that hat. And Louella would be hurt if she lost it. Determined to be quick about it, she dashed up the stairs, sometimes skipping a step and within minutes emerged upon the rooftop and then drew herself to a halt.
Gabriel stood alone there, looking off into the distance, her hat clasped loosely in his hands.
Chapter 26
A Moment
He’d thought he could do this. No, he didn’t just think he could. He had to. He’d given away his choice nearly a decade ago.
And Victoria had been all that was pleasant. He’d already put off the nuptials for nearly a year. And ironically enough, no one had died in that time.
He lifted the jaunty little hat Olivia had been wearing and inhaled. She’d stolen his breath this morning when she’d urged Rhiannon to race across the field. At first, fear had clutched at him. He’d known she could ride. She’d admitted so much to him on one of their outings and how she’d missed the privilege. But these fields were not familiar to her, nor was the horse.
But she hadn’t had to travel far to show what a natural she was.
He’d witnessed Olivia looking happy before, but he’d never seen her looking powerful. It was as though she’d become the fairy queen herself, at that moment.
“I forgot it.”
He’d not realized she returned. Steps away from him, his Olivia. Breathless and flushed.
The others had already descended to the bottom of the tower. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind that assured him they would not be interrupted.
“It isn’t always the same.” He’d lain in bed the night before, considering her question. He’d shamed her somewhat, by not having an answer for her yesterday. He’d made her feel gauche for asking.
She tilted her head questioningly.
“In fact, depending upon the person. It can be incomparable.”
Her eyes opened wide the second she comprehended his words. He loved that about her. The fact that she never hid her feelings behind ennui or false sophistication. She’d never been anything but honest with him.
“Oh.” And then she dropped her lashes.
He watched her swallow. Not many times had he left her bereft of words.
“Always know, Olivia, that you are incomparable.”
She lifted her gaze as though in surprise. a lovely pink flooding her cheeks, but she was shaking her head.
“I–You. Miss Shipley. Please give me my hat.” She stepped forward to take it from him. But he did not release it. Instead, he lifted her chin so that he could lose himself in his favorite eyes in the world.
Two pools of violet glistened up at him. One steady, the other drifting on its own.
Ah… Olivia. And then he touched her hair. Styled today, into intricate braids and an off-centered knot to accommodate her hat, he supposed. This is as she should be; a lady, in every sense of the word.
God, how he’d wronged her.
“Allow me. Do you have the pins?”
Her chest rose and fell, as though she couldn’t quite catch her breath, but then she reached into a pocket and pulled out three hat pins.
“Let me see.” He placed the hat atop her head and adjusted it to the side. Taking one of the pins, he slid it through the fabric and into a braid. Savoring this nearness, her scent, he carefully added the other pins.
/> The hat was adorned with feathers, but one flirtatious plume caressed the side of her face most temptingly. He could not stop himself from sliding his hand along the silk of the feather and then to the even softer texture of her skin.
When he reached his thumb over to caress the plump flesh of her lip, her lashes drifted shut and her body swayed.
She trembled beneath him.
“We are still friends?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Always.” But his heart raced.
She tilted her face into his hand and then, with a jolt, stepped backward. She lifted her chin and with cool eyes informed him, “We need to return to the others.”
Yes. By God. “Of course.” He’d have winged her an elbow but wasn’t sure he could touch her again without taking more. And for the first time since knowing her, he wasn’t certain she’d be willing to give.
And she would be right.
“The steps are uneven. Allow me to go before you, in case you need assistance.” Although she’d never really needed his assistance any time before. He’d only thought she did and then wreaked havoc in the long run.
“Thank you, My Lord.”
As they approached the covering to the stairwell, Lord Lockley appeared, one lip pulled back, stretching his mouth into a grin. A grin Gabriel would have liked to wipe off the blighter’s face with a single blow to the chin.
“Lady Priscilla was concerned,” he said in that annoyingly languid voice of his. “For Miss Redfield… but it’s obvious she’s managed to place herself in quite capable hands.”
If Gabriel was not mistaken, a tremor shook Olivia’s small frame.
“You’re not wrong in that, Lockley. You may inform my sister that Miss Redfield had forgotten her hat.”
Lockley sneered again, bowed, and then with an entirely inappropriate glance at Olivia, turned and disappeared as quickly as he came.
No way in hell was the bastard marrying his sister. Gabriel never ought to have allowed his mother to invite him to begin with.
Olivia was grateful to follow Gabriel down the steep and winding stairs. Her knees were wobbly, and she wasn’t sure she could have descended the steps safely knowing he was watching.
Knowing he still wanted her.
She also appreciated any person who stood between her and that horrid Lord Lockley. She wondered if she ought to have mentioned the embrace she’d witnessed earlier to Gabriel. Lady Priscilla was his sister, after all.
Surely, Lady Priscilla did not wish to align herself with the likes of Lord Lockley? Admittedly, he was handsome, and if one didn’t analyze his words too closely, he seemed charming enough. But when he stared at her, his eyes bode nothing good.
Olivia could discuss it with Louella. Perhaps Louella would know the etiquette for this sort of situation.
“Are you all right?” Gabriel turned and asked. Caught up in her conundrum, she’d slowed her pace considerably.
Concern etched his features.
He wasn’t happy. She knew him well enough to know that.
She shouldn’t have come.
“Just… thinking.” She grasped the rusted rail and increased her pace.
At the same time, she drank in the sight of him as he confidently descended the rickety steps.
He’d tied his inky black hair into a queue—or perhaps he’d hired a valet as he’d said he would—but a few tendrils escaped, and he’d tucked them behind his ear. The muscles in his back stretched and pulsed beneath his jacket as he gripped parts of the railing and then released it. Each time he turned back to check on her progress after that, she hastily averted her eyes.
She could not look at him, but that she’d become lost in the warmth of his gaze.
She’d drawn upon every ounce of strength she possessed in order to keep from falling into his arms when he’d cradled her cheek in his hand. She’d wanted his kiss so badly.
She’d wanted all of him.
Already, she suffered for loving him. How much more would she suffer if she were to give in to it again?
“Cameron!” Olivia nearly jumped out of her skin when her sister shouted gleefully as they approached the stable. A welcome surprise for Louella indeed, her husband himself was there to greet her.
Rather than be paired up with any gentleman for the ride back, Olivia had attached herself to Louella’s side and made far too much fuss describing the delights of the ride and the abbey.
“Didn’t think you’d manage to get away.” Olivia watched Gabriel greet Crawford from the corner of her eyes.
All the gentlemen dismounted their horses in the courtyard while Miss Shipley approached the mounting block. The duke easily lifted Louella down and then, one hand still on his wife’s waist, stretched his other out in greeting to Gabriel and then each of his brothers.
“I thought you were needed at home?” Louella gazed up at her husband. He was a handsome man, in a much different way than Gabriel was. His skin was tanned from outdoor exertions and his shoulders a little broader. His hair was blond, and he lacked the rakish swagger Gabriel had.
Olivia shook her head at herself. Must she compare every man in the future with him?
“A duke grows rather fond of his duchess.” Crawford smiled.
Olivia had known her sister was already missing him. And as always, seeing her sister happy gave her a special sort of joy.
As though reading her mind, Gabriel caught her glance for the slightest of moments and sent her a quick grin.
Oh, but Olivia could not look at him. She’d give her feelings away for certain and she’d feel horrid and embarrassed and a cluster of other undesirable emotions if anyone guessed as to the nature of her yearnings.
Lockley assisted Lady Priscilla off her horse and Nathaniel approached Olivia with a charming smile and sparkling eyes. She didn’t hesitate when he assisted her to the ground.
And again, she wondered why one man’s touch could have such a different effect than another. They were both handsome, similar in appearance even. And Nathaniel did not repel her as Lord Lockley did.
But she felt none of the attraction she felt with his older brother.
Standing on the ground, her knees were most noticeably steady.
Always know, Olivia, that you are incomparable
She dare not imagine what he’d intended by such a comment. All summer and fall and over the holidays, she’d convinced herself she’d meant nothing more to him than any other wench he’d swived while on his travels.
Although she flinched at the thought.
She’d provided comfort when he’d most needed it. He had not experienced the same loss that she did at their separation.
But… incomparable?
So… Did he think about it?
Did he think about her?
But he was to be wed in a matter of weeks! Miss Shipley was a lovely lady and had lost more than her fair share over the course of her life. He could not jilt her.
He knew that.
Of course, he knew that.
But…
She’d seen something in his eyes at the abbey today. She could not allow herself to imagine it had been love.
She would not.
Chapter 27
A Long Visit
Olivia did her best to avoid Gabriel over the next few days, which wasn’t difficult as the ladies spent a good deal of time working on wedding plans and even fashioning some of the centerpieces for the wedding breakfast. Lady Kingsley expressed her disdain that the gentlemen had gotten caught up in numerous poker games but did so affectionately.
Perhaps her husband had played poker and it reminded her of parties they’d hosted together.
The most difficult times to endure were the evenings. Always, Olivia tried to avoid Lord Lockley but also Gabriel.
Sometimes she nearly forgot herself, and in the presence of other guests, no less. An interesting topic would come up in the conversation and her tendency was to seek out Gabriel’s opinion.
Victoria didn’t tal
k much. Nor was she overly flirtatious with her fiancé. Olivia sometimes wondered… Although there was affection between Gabriel and Miss Shipley, it lacked the same intensity of Louella’s and Crawford’s. Olivia never caught them staring at one another longingly, nor did they ever slip away to be alone.
But they were to marry, nonetheless.
And very soon.
On the last night of the house party, following an elaborate dinner consisting of more courses than even Olivia could eat, Lady Priscilla persuaded her mother to allow the gentlemen to roll the carpets back so that there could be dancing.
“I will play the pianoforte,” Miss Shipley announced firmly. “Because Kingsley will never dance.”
Gabriel, who was standing casually behind his fiancée, had smiled and then dropped a hand upon her shoulder. “You know me too well, Victoria.”
Never my dear, or darling.
He had not dissembled with her in the garden that night—about never dancing.
He had danced with her, though. And quite willingly.
“I’d be honored to partner you, Victoria,” offered Mr. Gilbert Fellowes. In contrast to Nathaniel’s friendly appeal, Gabriel’s closest sibling was a serious and quiet gentleman. “One would think that a person could master something so simple over the course of three decades.”
Gabriel smiled and shook his head.
“Are you that ancient?” Crawford joked from his position on the sofa beside Louella.
This time, Olivia laughed. Because she knew as well as anyone that the duke and Gabriel were the same age.
“Miss Redfield?” Lord Lockley said. “I hope you’ll do me the honor of a dance as well.”
If Olivia were to refuse, she could not dance with any of the other gentlemen present. She knew that much. And she would have enjoyed dancing a country dance or two with Nathaniel or even Gilbert.
Louella watched her expectantly.
The Perfect Spinster: A Regency Romance (The Not So Saintly Sisters Book 2) Page 20
