Page 25
And cruel he was not. However…
Davenport’s words from the night of the kiss still lingered with him. Perhaps he was just a touch wicked.
Selfish, certainly.
He swallowed down the overwhelming sense of longing he experienced every time he looked at Clara and turned his attention back to Olivia.
Olivia, who had been watching him closely, a small smile hovering over her lips. “I have had a talk with my father, you know.”
He blinked at the sudden change of topic. For nearly five minutes now they had been exchanging mundane, utterly boring niceties about the weather. Atrocious, seemed to be their united opinion on that front.
But now… He turned to look at her father, who was not attempting to hide his interest in their conversation as he stood beside Aunt Gertie and Olivia’s mother.
“He seems to think that you wish to do right by me.” Her eyes sparkled with rueful laughter, and there was no missing the teasing in her tone, almost as though she were mimicking her father.
He cleared his throat. Well, this was it. The time had come. He’d rehearsed the words he’d say beforehand—to himself and the mirror, and again with Tess who’d given him a small smile of encouragement in exchange. And yet, they seemed to stick in his throat.
Being responsible does not always mean making the right decisions. Sometimes it means making a choice, and making it be the right one.
Davenport’s words came back to him now in full force and with new significance.
Obligation tugged at him but desire…passion. That too rose up in equal measures, making words impossible.
Olivia’s lips twitched as she bit back a smile. “I did not mean to startle you with that statement, merely…” She shrugged. “Get to the heart of the matter.”
“Yes, I…er…I…”
Oh blast. Of all the times to revert back to his awkward speechless ways…
He could not do go through with it. The pretty proposal speech he’d had planned—he could not bring his lips to form the words.
He should.
He ought to propose right now. By all rights, he should say something eloquent. Something kind. He opened his mouth…nothing.
It would not come. His head understood what he should do as the Earl of Charmian. Duty and obligation told him he should honor his brother’s promise and combine their families. And yet…
His heart would not cooperate.
His heart seemed to have a stranglehold on his tongue.
He gaped at Olivia for so long, it grew painfully awkward. When she laughed, he jerked back in surprise.
“I apologize,” she said through her laughter. “I was just remembering how your brother used to say that you did not have a dishonest bone in your body.”
Alex blinked. “He did?”
She nodded quickly, her eyes softening with affection. “He did. Do you know, he also used to say that it was you who ought to inherit the earldom?”
He widened his eyes, studying her to see if she was in jest. While a smile still hovered over her lips, she did not seem to be teasing.
“Why would he—but that’s absurd,” he managed to sputter.
Frederick had always been the perfect heir, and then the ideal earl. He might not have held the role for long, but he’d been the living definition of all the title had come to mean throughout the years. Grace, charm, nobility, and selflessness.
“I see you doubt his opinion,” she said, tilting her head down so she was looking up at him through he lashes. The move was coquettish yet not flirtatious.
“My brother was a fine Earl of Charmian,” he said, his tone stiffer than he’d have liked. Emotion choked him, but speaking of his brother with one who knew him so well was a welcome sort of pain.
