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He gulped down a breath, slowly eased his fingers from hers and pulled off a glove at the fingertips. “You can wear mine.”
Her expression shuttered. She looked to the offered glove, then shook her head. “They’ll be far too big for me.” She waggled her slender fingers in demonstration. Her gaze landed on his cheek. “What happened, Oliver? Did you really fight someone?”
“I overheard someone talking of your sister’s wedding and challenged him.”
Her lips parted and he heard her inhale. “You could have been hurt!”
He wouldn’t point out that hewashurt. Alongside the bruise on his face, he had no doubt there were several on his body too. Instead, Oliver offered a lopsided smile. “The other man came off worse, I assure you.”
“I cannot believe you would do such a thing for Demeter.”
It was for you, he wanted to say, but such words in close confines, where he could do whatever he wished with her were not a good idea.
“I care very much for your sister,” he murmured.
In truth, he cared for her whole family. From Aunt Sarah to stiff-lipped Anton, and most certainly to her sisters. They were warm, fun, caring people, who only ever wanted the best for each other. He couldn’t fathom growing up in such a situation and he envied them that.
He cared for Eleanor most of all, though. He could admit that to himself at least. But nothing had changed. Even if he wanted to give her more, how could he? What did he know of warmth or love? Like his brothers, he would end up running away and hiding in clubs or gaming hells or other’s houses.
The carriage scarcely moved, heading forward a few feet before stopping again. He pulled open the window and leaned his head out to eye the crowded road.
“We do not have time for this.”
Eleanor nodded and was on her feet before he could tap on the roof. “We could probably walk there quicker.”
He handed her down and he instructed his driver to head to Miss Lawson’s address. They were alone but at least they were in public. What sort of scandal could he possibly create on a busy London Street?
He grimaced to himself when she started down the road, her determined pace drawing his attention to her rear. Lots of scandal, he wagered. Lots and lots.
Once he’d caught up with her and managed to shake images he had no business imagining from his mind, Oliver kept pace with her, surprised that a woman smaller than he could walk with such furious speed.
Of course, with her sister’s safety in mind, he should not be shocked she acted with determination.
“I should have acted sooner,” Eleanor muttered mostly to herself.
“None of us were convinced anything else was going to happen, least of all Demeter and Blake. Besides, if anyone should have acted it was me.” He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat.
Fool that he was, he’d let his desire for Eleanor ruin everything. If Demeter ended up harmed because he could not keep his hands to himself, he’d never forgive himself. Why could he not behave like the gentleman he purported to be, help the sisters, and cease wanting to kiss Eleanor?
Oliver spared a sideways glance at her as they came to the edge of a crowded market area and spied her determined chin and small, clenched fists swinging at her side. A tilted smile could not be quashed from teasing his lips. What man in his right mind would not want a kiss? Strong, clever, loyal and ridiculously beautiful too? No wonder he struggled with his vows to stay away.
Stalls were clustered closely together, rickety tables topped with blue and white striped coverings. The scent of fresh pies made his stomach grumble though he couldn’t figure out where the pie stall might be amongst the crowds. They eased their way through, and he finally spied the stall, eyeing it mournfully while they hastened past.
Eleanor ducked between two stalls, scarcely sparing a glance his way and Oliver cursed and dipped low, the overhang practically slapping him in the face. When he straightened and emerged between the buildings and the rear of a line of stalls, his heart gave a leap against his chest. Now where the devil had she scurried off to?
He looked left and right, finally spotting her a little down the street and trying to cross a busy road. He shook his head and caught up with her once more.
“Am I to spend all my days chasing after you?” he asked.
“When have you ever chased after me before?” She looked left and right, eyeing the snarling traffic with a scowl.
“Sir Fairfield’s gardens?” Oliver reminded her.
“Oh.”
Now why did he bring that up? They’d kissed in those gardens. Touched her, even.Andheld her. He’d winded up wanting so much more from her there. He could practically pinpoint the moment he’d begun to lose his mind to back there.
“Now,” she said, snapping him from his reverie and grabbing his hand. She led him between a horse and cart, scarcely avoiding a man on horseback and a barouche moving far too quickly.
