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It was no good. She had to put the kiss from her mind and cease to believe it could be anything more than a simple mistake. For both their sakes.
∞∞∞
Hands clasped behind his back, Oliver focused his attention on the portrait to the right of him—a painting of all of the sisters together. He’d seen it many times and never really looked at it properly.
He should have kept it that way. Now he found himself focused on Eleanor. Though she had to be but sixteen in the portrait, there were hints of the exquisite woman he’d kissed the other night.
He looked to his feet, eyeing his boots upon the shining marble floor. He heard the butler murmur something from the drawing room and held his breath. He should have waited before coming to visit. A day at least, maybe more.
But when he received her letter, Oliver found himself halfway to the door, jacket in hand, before he realized what he’d done. He tapped his foot, the clicking sound of his boot soles seeming to echo about the vast, columned entrance hall.
What the devil was taking so long? Did she not wish to see him? Had she changed her mind? Perhaps that blasted kiss had frightened her off for good but then why would she request to see him? It made no sense.
The butler finally returned and gestured for him to follow him into the drawing room. Oliver hesitated for an instant when he spied Eleanor’s brother sitting alongside Eleanor upon the sofa. He rose and dipped his head. “Oliver.”
“Anton. A pleasure.”
“You are here to see my sister?” Anton’s expression betrayed little, though his posture was rigid, and despite not being as tall as Oliver, there was no denying the threat behind the stance.
He doubted Eleanor had informed her brother of their shared kiss or demands would have been made already, however, Anton clearly thought something was happening here. In an odd way, it rather pleased Oliver she had a protector in her brother. There would be many men who would ignore a sister born under such circumstances.
“I asked him to see me, Brother,” Eleanor said with a roll of her eyes as she came to her feet. “You need not be here.”
“I have nowhere else to be.” Her brother sat, retrieved a book from the table at his side, and set a finger upon a page.I’m staying, he said without having to utter a word.
Which was fine except how were they to talk about Eleanor’s investigation troubles? Oliver eased onto a Louis XI chair opposite and glanced around the ornate room. Gilded ceilings covered in swirls, thick wall coverings in a pale green, and a mix of furnishings from across the world made it one of the most lavish drawing rooms in London.
Oliver hardly lived in a hovel, and his country home offered everything a man could want but for the first time in his life, a sense of uncertainty tightened his chest.
“Lovely weather we’re having,” he murmured, hands upon his knees.
Eleanor threw an irritated look her brother’s way. “Indeed.”
He swallowed hard, the sound so loud he swore both occupants of the room had to have heard it. He tapped a finger on his knee. “Uh...”
Uh.Wonderful. When had he gone from eloquent gentleman to fumbling oaf with a less than expansive vocabulary?
“So...” Eleanor started, fingers looped together.
Oliver didn’t miss the arched brow Anton sent his way. Damn it all. He wasn’t even here to impress her brother yet all he could think on was how Anton wouldn’t want him near his sister ever again if he thought him some ineloquent dolt.
“Anton!” trilled Aunt Sarah as she dashed into the room swiftly followed by Simon the cat who darted onto a windowsill, then down again to turn several times on the rug in front of the empty fire.
“Aunt Sarah,” Anton said tightly. “We have a guest.”
“Yes, yes.” Aunt Sarah waved a hand. “But I need you. Right now.”
A heavy sigh emanated from Eleanor’s brother, and he snapped shut the book. “Right now?”
Aunt Sarah nodded vigorously. “Come quick.”
Anton looked at Oliver then Eleanor. “But—”
“Your father is in the next room. Just leave the door open.” Aunt Sarah gave Oliver the briefest wink before grabbing Anton’s hand and heaving him off to wherever the urgent matter was.
“I take it your aunt knows of your investigations?” Oliver asked once he could be certain Anton could not hear him.
“Oh yes. Aunt Sarah was one of the original members of the society.” Eleanor smiled softly. “She can be useful at times.”
