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Demeter came to Blake’s side, a radiant picture in pale green. Oliver leaned in to give the back of her hand a brief kiss, making Blake narrow his gaze at him.
“Hands off my fiancée.”
Demeter gave Blake a tap on his shoulder for his troubles.
Oliver grinned. “It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. Maybe you chose the wrong man.”
Blake’s expression darkened, making Oliver chuckle. His friend deserved to suffer a little jealousy after his lectures.
Demeter glanced at her fiancé and Oliver had to admit feeling a slight pang of jealousy of his own. He’d never witnessed such love up close before. Between his parents’ miserable match and their inability to provide anything but criticism and his siblings’ matches, he’d begun to doubt love matches even existed.
“I am fairly certain I chose the right one,” she said with a soft smile, looping her arm through Blake’s and leaning into him.
“Oh, only fairly?” Oliver pressed.
Demeter rolled her eyes.
“Some friend you are,” Blake muttered.
Oliver’s gaze drifted back to Eleanor. Inwardly, he groaned. Who was he kidding? It wasn’t Demeter he couldn’t keep his eyes off. He couldn’t stay away.
Chapter Fourteen
“ATreatise on Modern Horology? Do you not know all there is to now?”
“Rats!” The cake tumbled from Eleanor’s hand and dropped firmly onto the patio slabs, breaking into several pieces and sending dried fruit tumbling so far that one landed on the vicar’s shoe. She held her breath and waited for him to notice, then released it when her fumble appeared to go unheeded.
Oliver swiftly whipped out a napkin. She frowned, set aside her book as he handed it to her and when unfolded it to reveal another rout cake.
She gaped at him and rose from the bench. “You could not have possibly known I was going to drop that.”
“No, but I knew you would want another.”
She eyed his smug expression. She’d avoided him successfully for a good hour, then decided he was most likely avoiding her too so there was no need for her to hide. She broke the cake and handed half to him.
“They’re one of my favorites,” she admitted.
“Have you been hiding from me?”
“Have you?” she countered.
“I thought after our last encounter it might be wise to spend a little less time together, however, we do need to at least discuss Demeter and Blake’s wedding.”
“We do,” she conceded.
“Have you any further thoughts? I am assuming Blake would know if something else had occurred.”
Eleanor shook her head and nibbled on the cake, though now Oliver was in front of her, devastatingly handsome in a jade green waistcoat lined with gold, and pale trousers, her mouth felt too dry to enjoy the sweet orange tang of the cake. She swallowed hard and instantly regretted it when a crumb lodged in her throat, starting her into a coughing fit.
Oliver’s eyes widened and he patted her back then rubbed it gently when the crumb cleared. Feeling hot and ridiculous, she straightened and gratefully took the drink he offered, trying not to think how it had once touched his lips.
Lips she’d tasted, lips she’d felt upon hers. If it had not been for the awakening at Almack’s, she’d be imagining further kisses or maybe even sensual touches. Just his hand resting upon her back made think of more, of how those large hands might feel resting against her lower back or cupping her rear or...
What a fine job his mother had put paid to those thoughts. Now she would not have to think on such matters ever again.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Eleanor shoved the napkin into the empty glass and set it upon the bench. “What were we saying?”
