AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You cannot be speaking of me.” He offered a bold grin. “I’ve never looked bitter in my life.”
Blake shook his head. “Not true. Every time you speak with your mother you get that look on your face, as though you have just drunk Almack’s lemonade.” He gestured with a finger to Oliver’s face. “And it’s there now.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Cocking his head, Blake eyed him. “Muttering about becoming a recluse and looking far too much like my Uncle Milton with those pursed lips and that narrowed gaze. Soon you’ll be complaining about all the young people. Are you certain you are not going senile?”
“I’m the same age as you.”
“You’d make a terrible recluse anyway,” Blake continued. “You could not leave Society for more than a day. Where else would you get your entertainment from?”
Blake was right, of course. Where would he enjoy himself if not in the company of Society? With Eleanor?
No, impossible. She’d already made it clear their brief acquaintance was practically at an end and besides, if he spent more time with her, he might get more of these strange sensations that kept lingering around his heart every time he saw her.
Sensations led to foolish things like love and marriage, and then hating each other for the rest of their lives. Although, how anyone could hate such a woman, he did not know.
Oliver watched her sneak around the edge of the gardens, unable to keep his lips from curving when she stumbled over a stone slab, glanced around to see if anyone saw, then snatched a rout cake and headed toward a bench under the arbor. Surrounded by honeysuckle as she nibbled on the cake, she flipped open a book she had somehow secreted upon her person and tucked herself behind it.
His smile increased. The desire to flick a finger over the book and demand to know what she was reading made his feet twitch.
“Oliver!” Blake snapped his fingers in front of Oliver’s face, forcing his attention to his friend.
“What is it?”
“I was telling you to behave yourself.”
“I always behave myself.”
Blake jerked his head in the direction of Eleanor. “If you hurt her, Demeter shall never forgive either of us.”
“How am I going to hurt her?”
One dark brow lifted. “I’m not blind, you dolt, and I seem to recall a similar conversation occurring between us when I was falling for Demeter.”
“I’m not falling for Eleanor,” Oliver spluttered. “We are working together to save your damned wedding remember?”
“With any luck, my wedding no longer needs saving and if anything else happens we’ll damn well elope,” Blake said. “In case you have not noticed, nothing else has occurred. Perhaps whoever attempted to ruin things has given up.”
“Perhaps,” Oliver murmured, though he was not convinced. Who would go to such lengths to steal a stamp and a wedding gown then simply drop the matter?
“So you need not work with Eleanor any longer.”
“Like hell.” Oliver straightened and forced his attention to remain on Blake rather than letting it linger on Eleanor as she brushed crumbs from her skirt.
“Like hell?”
He wasn’t going to admit to his friend the idea of giving up time with Eleanor made him want to bite out several more curses. “I simply meant until we know for certain that your wedding is safe, I will not rest.”
“You know, I would be entirely happy to marry in a small church in the middle of nowhere and I’m certain Demeter feels the same. It is only you and Eleanor who are so determined to save us.”
“You both deserve more than an anonymous pauper’s wedding.”
“Demeter does, it is true.” Blake smiled softly. “But my warning still stands. Eleanor has suffered many upsets over the years, and I will not see her hurt again.”
“I have no intention of hurting her,” Oliver vowed.
It was true. And he wouldn’t forget that vow. Which meant, he needed to be much more cautious and cease all this staring at her and wondering what was going on in that complicated head of hers. She might feel nothing for him or perhaps even a marginal amount of dislike still and he had to keep it that way.
