Page 108 of Waiting for Love

“I’ll stop bothering you. I promise. But you can’t leave Jasper.”

“You aren’t bothering me. Don’t be absurd!”

“Stop!” She blocked her ears. “Stop being so kind to me. I threw myself at you. Again. I’m mortified. Again.”

“No. No, that isn’t true. I—it isn’t kindness. Would I have kissed you at Vauxhall—”

“If you had no intention of asking Jasper for permission to woo me?”

His eyes flared. Olivia couldn’t bear the hurt and self-recrimination she read on his face. She shouldn’t have used that. But she had to press on.

“I suppose you meant to scare me off,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Benjamin, you’re a good man. A very nice man. And I’ve been bothering you for far too long. Jasper’s right.”

She took a step back, then turned and started for the door. He pushed aside his chair to come after her.

“Olivia, wait. What are you doing? What do you mean?”

“I mean that it is time for me to grow up. I’m a Taverston. I have responsibilities.”

She opened the door, stepped out, and pulled it firmly closed. She had not gone three steps before she heard glass shattering against the wall.

Let this work. Let this work, she prayed, dashing down the stairs. She headed for the receiving room just in time to see Jasper come out of it, scowling for all he was worth. He saw her and sighed angrily.

“Olivia. I was coming to find you. To ask you to wait in the parlor to receive Lythe.”

“Yes, I heard he was here. I suppose he intends to propose.”

“You knew that?”

“He dropped hints.” She snorted. “The man is not subtle.” She waved Jasper aside. “Does it have to be the parlor? Can I just go to him in there?”

“I should send him to you. But—”

“Oh, bosh. Let me get this over with. I went to find you in your study, but only Benjamin is there. He says he’s waiting for you.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll go up. And then, Olivia,” his voice grew stern, “I must talk with you.”

She huffed with exasperation. “I will be so glad when you can’t scold me anymore.”

He looked confused, and she felt his eyes on her back as she opened the door.

She heard bootsteps careening down the staircase, and Benjamin’s voice, shouting, “Jasper! Where are you? Jasper!”

Oh, bosh! He was supposed to chase her. He’d better be quick with Jasper. She stepped inside and shut the door.

“Your Grace. How pleasant of you to call.”

He stood near the wall, regarding one of the landscapes. Sunlight filtering through the half-open shutters cast stripes across the painting, marring it. The sandalwood scent of Lythe’s cologne was overwhelming, as if he had used the entire bottle. He wore old-fashioned breeches and spectacles that he swept quickly from his nose.

“My dear Lady Olivia. Do you know? I brought Cassieopia to make you a present, but your brother said she was an inappropriate gift.”

Olivia gasped, then gave a little laugh. “Your Grace, my brother is right.”

He came forward and reached for her hand. She didn’t see any option but to let him take it. He led her toward the Chesterfield sofa and sat, drawing her down beside him. She tried not to wince when he kissed her knuckles.

“Ah, but it is not inappropriate for my little duchess to have such a horse.”

A commotion sounded in the hallway. Pounding feet. Benjamin’s voice, rumbling, the words a jumble. Jasper yelling: “What the hell? She wouldn’t!” Benjamin, a little louder, “She says it’s her responsibility. To grow up.” And Jasper, “The devil! She said I couldn’t scold—”