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“Simon...he...he scratched Mr. Wilde.”
“Well, Simon scratches me upon occasion. You know what he is like when he is grumpy, and you catch him unawares.”
Aunt Sarah shook her head. “It is a sign. I cannot entertain any further thoughts of...anything with Mr. Wilde. We must remain distant friends.”
“I do not believe for one moment Uncle Simon would wish you to be alone for the rest of your days.”
Her aunt gave her a little nudge with an elbow. “I do not have all that many days left but you, Eleanor, you have many. Will you be content to spend yours alone too?”
“This is not about me,” Eleanor protested.
“No, but it should be,” Aunt Sarah said firmly.
“Whatever does that mean?”
“I have seen how Oliver looks at you. I have seen it for months, ever since Blake started courting Demeter.”
“He doesn’t look at me in any way,” Eleanor insisted.
Her aunt gave her a pointed look, one that made Eleanor want to shy away because otherwise Aunt Sarah might see the tiny spark of hope that lit in her chest. She did not want Oliver. She couldn’t want Oliver, and it did not matter if he really did look at her at all—there was no future for them. He’d made it patently clear he would never marry, and she could not be a mistress and bring further scandal to the family, deliberately so this time.
She simply couldn’t allow herself to even imagine such a future. It would only lead to heartbreak.
∞∞∞
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Oliver spotted Giles on the wooden bench that lined one wall of the Jacksons. Younger than him by three years, his brother had given into their mother’s demands a mere six months ago, and already Giles had learned the art of avoiding his wife. He nursed a red cheek with a cold slab of meat.
Oliver sank onto the bench next to Giles and glanced at the two men in the ring, stripped down to their waists and dripping with sweat as they pummeled each other.
“Are you here to fight or watch?” asked Giles.
“I’m not certain yet.”
Giles smirked. “It’s not like you to need to escape. Tired of your latest mistress?”
“Is a man not allowed to simply enjoy a sport without having to escape a woman?”
“Not the Hart men. We’re more lovers than fighters.”
Oliver gave a grudging smile. Despite their lack of loving parents, he and his brothers had always appreciated the opposite sex. Somehow that made the arranged marriages all the worse. They’d been happy with their mistresses and lovers before settling down. It was as though his mother had suffered a miserable marriage and now she wanted everyone else to suffer too.
“I’m feeling more like a fighter today.”
His brother grinned. “Most certainly women trouble then.”
Oliver didn’t deny it though he had no desire to spill his troubles to his brother. In truth, he wasn’t certain he could voice them. All he knew was he still could not get Eleanor from his mind.
He watched the fighters and the last hit take place. From across the room, Jules Hampton unleashed a triumphant bellow and waved a bank note at the dejected man at his side.
“What’s going on there?” Oliver nodded toward the man. “Hampton never has coin.”
“He’s come into some money somehow.” Giles grimaced. “Wherever it came from, I doubt it was gained legally.”
“The man’s an idiot.”
“Agreed.” Giles smirked. “He lost a fair chunk betting against me.”
