“The pleasure is mine, sir,” she answered, responding in kind.
Olivia leaned slightly forward. “I believe I heard you are now a Fellow at Oxford. Is that true?”
Addington puffed out his chest in pride. “Indeed. I received the appointment last month.”
“How very impressive,” Olivia said. “Your parents must be pleased.”
At once, his expression faltered, and he offered a rueful smile. “Ah, I’m afraid not. My father considers it a waste of time. He believes a proper Englishman should be acquiring estates, not lecturing about ancient Rome to distracted students.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Olivia said.
He waved a hand as if brushing away her sympathy. “No need. I reconciled myself to disappointing him long ago. Besides, it’s far too pleasant a day for complaints, is it not?”
Richard gave a faint nod of agreement, though his attention was more fixed on the subtle change in his sister’s demeanor. She was toying with the lace of her sleeve, her gaze distant.
“How is Lord Harwood enjoying married life?” Olivia asked.
“He and his new bride are still enjoying their wedding tour. I’m told they are somewhere along the coast now—Devonshire, perhaps,” Addington replied.
Olivia dropped her gaze, and in that instant, Richard saw the brightness leave her eyes. A shadow passed over her features—pain, or perhaps longing. The transformation was swift but unmistakable.
He furrowed his brow.What was it about that comment?Was it the mention of a honeymoon? Of Lord Harwood content in marriage? Whatever it was, Olivia was clearly unsettled.
Taking a step back, Addington said, “Well, I should be on my way. I hadn’t meant to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Richard responded. “You’re welcome to stay and join us.”
“That is kind of you, but I shall have to decline.”
Richard noticed Addington’s gaze drift once more towards Miss Theodosia. This time it lingered—just a moment too long, with a spark of appreciation that Richard found oddly unwelcome.
The reaction was irrational, of course. Miss Theodosia wasyoung, strikingly beautiful, and carried herself with a confident grace. It was of little wonder that Addington would notice. Any man would.
So why was Richard’s jaw tense?
Something about the idea of Addington—charming, well-positioned, and altogether eligible—showing interest in Miss Theodosia unsettled him far more than it ought to have.
He forced a polite smile. “Perhaps we’ll see you at Warwicke’s ball?”
Addington tipped his hat. “If I can finish my work before then, I’ll be there.”
With one last look at Miss Theodosia—this time paired with a parting smile—he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Silence descended over the carriage, and Richard saw Miss Theodosia eyeing him curiously.
“Is something wrong, my lord?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Richard replied briskly, though his tone lacked conviction. “I simply find it curious how many gentlemen discover their manners when introduced to you.”
Her lips curved faintly. “And do you object to good manners?”
“I object to someone ogling you.”
“And you think Mr. Addington was ogling me?” Miss Theodosia asked with amusement in her voice.
He adjusted the cuff of his coat. “It was merely an observation.”
She said nothing, but the look in her eyes told him she saw more than he wished to admit.
