Robertson felt such an attraction to Lady Armstrong. She was beautiful, but it was more than that. The night he met her, there’d been something about her that drew him to her. She had been quite timid at first, but today, she seemed much more relaxed around him. Maybe it was mere tiredness from her journey that’d sent her scurrying to her bedchamber last evening. She didn’t seem tired today. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely, if her sweet smiles were any indication of her pleasure. He could definitely get used to that.
They’d walked quite a distance from the picnic area when Robertson stopped and faced her. Thesun seemed to form a halo around her, and it took his breath away. “You’re so beautiful.” Her skin seemed to glow, and when her tongue darted out to wet her lips, he leaned slowly toward her, giving her an opportunity to pull away if she wished. She didn’t move, so he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, but she flinched and stepped back before he could touch her. “My lady, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just—”
“Robertson!”
He snarled inwardly at the interruption, desperate to understand what’d just happened. Why had she flinched? Was it him, or had someone hurt her in the past? Was that why she flinched when he went to stroke her cheek? An anger he’d never felt before unfurled inside his chest. He’d kill the man who hurt her.
He looked up to see Miss Bartlett and Lord Pressley walking toward them. “Pressley.”
“I see we’re not the only ones enjoying a walk on this fine day,” the young lord said as they came alongside them, apparently not noticing Robertson’s scowl.
“It’s been quite pleasant, but we were just about to head back,” he said, holding out his arm again for Lady Armstrong.
She slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. He was glad she hadn’t refused his escort, but her earlier reaction still puzzled him.
“Excellent. We shall join you,” Pressley said.
Robertson was not happy. He wanted more time alone with Lady Armstrong and especially wanted to know why she seemed so afraid of being touched. He felt protective of her and never wanted to see her so frightened again.
“Lady Armstrong, that’s a lovelycolor on you,” Miss Bartlett said. “The green complements your eyes nicely.”
Olivia inclined her head. “Thank you, Miss Bartlett. Are you enjoying the house party?”
“Oh yes. Mama says Lord Fleming is known for throwing grand parties. We don’t live far from here, and I was so excited when we received an invitation this year. Have you been before?”
“No. This is my first time attending.”
“Mine as well. Mama says it’s good practice before I enter the marriage mart next Spring. I’m so looking forward to being in London. Did you enjoy your Season?”
Olivia shook her head. “I didn’t have a Season.”
“What a shame. I can’t wait to attend the balls, musicales, and tea parties. I was too young when my older sister came out to enjoy any of the activities, but I remember everything she told me about them. Finally, next spring, I’ll get to enjoy them too.”
“That sounds lovely. I wish you a most successful Season.”
“I look forward to seeing you in London,” Lord Pressley said to Miss Bartlett.
The young woman gave him a shy smile. “Thank you, Lord Pressley.”
As they walked back to the picnic area, Olivia couldn’t help but feel she owed Lord Robertson an explanation for her earlier reaction. She would have welcomed his kiss, but when he raised his hand, she flinched back without thought, anticipating a slap. She was instantly mortified and wanted to explain that she welcomed his kisses, but they were interrupted, and now the moment seemed to have passed.
Would he try to kiss her again? Or had she discouraged him from even trying? That was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t stop thinking about his plump lower lip. Would his lips be as soft as they looked?
Perhaps she needed to be bold. It was one thing to say she wanted to be bold, but it was an entirely different thing to actually do it. How did one go about being bold? Should she just ask him to kiss her? What if he declined? She’d be mortified and most likely feel the need to leave the house party if that occurred. That would certainly not help her come out of her shell of isolation, as Bett had so aptly put it.
When they reached the blanket, she noticed that Bett and Mr. Hughes had their heads bent together, talking softly to each other. It seemed that Bett was enjoying Mr. Hughes’s attention a great deal.
“We’ll see you later,” Pressley said as he and Miss Bartlett walked over to their own blanket.
She and Lord Robertson took a seat with Bett and Mr. Hughes.
“Did you enjoy your walk?” Bett asked.
“Very much,” Olivia said. She wanted Lord Robertson to know that shedidenjoy his company, despite her embarrassing reaction.
“We’ve made plans to ride out around the estate early tomorrow morning. Would you two care to join us.”
