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“—and to wish you safe journey back to Yorkshire.”
Vivianna’s eyes narrowed. “I am not returning to Yorkshire just yet.”
“Pity,” he retorted.
“In fact, I am planning on an extended stay.”
“Best stay away from me, then,” he said, his eyes fixed meaningfully on hers, “or you’ll spend it in places a lady usually avoids—for instance, on your back.”
Vivianna straightened her already straight spine. “I know you think to intimidate me by speaking in this caddish manner, my lord, but you can’t, so you may as well desist. Besides, I believe that lying upon one’s back is only one of the ways in which…Well, I am sure you don’t need instruction from me.”
No hysterics, no fainting, no cries of maidenly distress, and certainly no promises to leave London and never return. Vivianna Greentree simply reminded him that there were other ways of making love than on one’s back. Oliver laughed—he couldn’t help it.
He must have been insane, coming here. There she was, staring him down with those brilliant hazel eyes, shining a light into his soul. He felt like he should shield himself from her, protect himself with bell, book, and candle, and at the same time he recklessly didn’t want to.
“You’re wasting your time,” he managed, and propped himself against the back of an armchair, as if he were still too intoxicated to stand.
“Well, it is my time to waste.” Her brow wrinkled faintly and she took a step nearer. “How did you know where I was staying?”
He smiled in triumph. “You gave me your address for the hansom cab, remember?”
“Of course!” Her frown cleared. She looked about her as if the room were new to her. “Can I offer you some refreshment, my lord? My aunt is not yet risen, nor my uncle, but as you have been thoughtful enough to call, I am sure they would not object.”
She was offering him refreshment? After what he had just said to her? Oliver shook his head in bewilderment. “No, I will not stay. I am in need of something stronger than tea, Miss Greentree. You have that effect upon me.”
Isn’t it a little early for strong drink? He could see the question in her eyes, but she did not speak it aloud. In a moment she would be lecturing him on the joys to be found in abstinence.
He had hardly slept at all last night, but still the dawn had found him wide-eyed and alert. His mind had been full to overflowing with the unusual, the interesting, the delectable Miss Vivianna Greentree. He had found himself going over their encounter again and again; he had found himself remembering the passion and the determination in her eyes.
This, he had realized, as the street sweepers got to work outside his window, was a woman who felt deeply. Who would not give up her mission without a long and protracted battle. In short, she was going to be a right pain in the arse. Why then did he find that trait so admirable and so fascinating?
And yet he did, and more than that. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss the life out of her. Put his hands all over her and make her moan, make her cry out for more. One moment his thoughts were on a higher, intellectual plain, and the next he had become completely carnal.
God help him, was he going mad?
“Miss Vivianna Greentree,” he drawled, and it was nectar in his mouth. “I do like your name.”
“Oh, do you, my lord?” She looked startled, as well she might, but pleased, too. And suspicious, as if she knew very well he was playing a devious game with her.
“Call me Oliver, I beg of you,” he said, and his irritation was genuine. Having come to the title of “my lord” late in life, after many years spent simply as Mr. Oliver Montegomery, he had never gotten used to it.
“I am sure that for me to call you ‘Oliver’ is most improper,” she replied, and her lips pursed prettily.
“I feel improper,” he murmured, and stepped closer, and was secretly amused by her obvious determination not to step back. “I like your face, too. Particularly your mouth, oh yes, I like your mouth. And I like your—”
“I…have you had second thoughts, my lord…Oliver? About Candlewood? I thought perhaps you had had time to reconsider. Overnight. I am to see the two Miss Beattys today and it would be a great relief if I could offer them some hope.”
He gave up.
“No, Miss Greentree, I have not had second thoughts.”
“If only you would—”
“Damnation, don’t lecture me, woman!”
She stopped, her mouth open, her breath coming fast. He had startled her, he saw, but not
frightened her. He doubted even a charging elephant would frighten Miss Vivianna Greentree.
