Page 72 of A Stranger’s Kiss

Farewells were said. The duke grunted and retired to his private study, but Deborah and Lord Deveraux followed them outside and stood on the steps.

“Good night, Olivia.” Deborah enveloped her in a hug and whispered, “How can I be so happy and yet so worried at the same time?”

“There’s naught to fret over,” Olivia assured. She turned to Lord Deveraux. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Mackenzie.” He kissed her hand. “We shall speak again. Soon.”

Nicholas escorted her to the carriage and handed her inside.

Olivia smiled, pleased with Deborah’s outcome, and glanced out the window as the carriage dipped under Nicholas’s weight. A shadowed figure stood directly across the street, under the trees. Was it a man? A shiver raced down her spine.

“I say, are those two kissing in the eyes of everyone?” Nicholas chuckled.

Olivia glanced through the open carriage door. Lord Deveraux and Deborah stood on the steps, locked in a kiss.

“Good Lord,” he continued in mock disdain. “They will have to wed, immediately. Especially after that scandalous display.”

He closed the door and the carriage began to roll.

“You did that,” Olivia said with a prim smile. “You arranged her marriage.”

She could sense him grinning in the darkness. “Nae, they arranged it betwixt themselves. I merely put them in touch, once again.”

“Must you always solve others’ problems?”

“I must admit, I am taking a liking to it,” he replied easily.

For a time, the banter continued and then a pleasant silence fell. To Olivia’s disappointment, he didn’t sit by her side but remained in his seat. By the time she arrived at her door, she discovered that to have been a good thing. No doubt, he would have gotten her overly heated and wanting more, but from the looks of the shop, she hadn’t the time for such distractions. Every window was lit. Even from the street, she could hear her father’s voice. Quickly, Olivia hurried inside. Her father stood by the shelves, searching through the music.

“Lordy, Olivia,” Mrs. Lambert heaved a sigh of relief. “Am I glad to see you, lass. He’s been nigh on a handful this past hour, looking for his music.”

“I have lost the score, Olivia,” her father turned to her, visibly upset and his hat askew.

“What score?” Olivia asked in soothing tones, hurrying to loop her arm through his.

Her father focused his gaze over her shoulder. “And you? Who are you?”

Olivia glanced back. Nicholas had followed to stand by the door.

“I am Lord Nicholas Blair.” He bowied. “I am at your service.”

Her father drew his brows into a scowl. “State your intentions with my daughter.”

Olivia blinked, surprised by his bluntness.

“The most honorable, I assure you, Mr. Mackenzie,” came Nicholas’s reply.

It was a lie, of course. There was no wedding in their future, but Olivia’s heart quickened just the same.

She felt her father relax, then he gazed into her eyes, his clarity again gone. “My how you’ve grown, child.”

“Come, father, it’s time to rest.” She began drawing him toward the curtains.

“Yes, yes, rest,” her father murmured. Then, he glanced at Nicholas. “Good evening, Lord Blair.”

“Good evening,” Nicholas replied, hat in hand.

“I will be on my way,” Mrs. Lambert said. “If you’ll see me out, Lord Blair?”