AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So nothing of interest happened at all?” Chastity pushed, her lips forming a slight pout. “I would ask Demeter, but her feet have barely touched the ground since Blake proposed.”
Eleanor nodded, ignoring the fact Chastity would find her dancing with a man for the first time in an eternity very interesting. “They are lovely together.”
“He is not the first man I would have chosen for her but, goodness, the man even adopted a dog for her.”
“I think the dog rather adopted me.”
Eleanor rose swiftly as Blake entered the room—not because her brother-to-be startled her but because she spotted the man behind him in an instant. How could she not? He occupied the doorway, making it hard not to note the careful cut of his waistcoat or the way he did not seem tired at all after the ball.
She had no doubt dark circles still lingered under her eyes and she caught the faintest hint of her reflection in the polished surface of a silver urn and grimaced. If circles were not bad enough, Nancy really had gone to work on her hair. Lord Oliver Hart, Viscount Ashford made her feel as though she might as well have been sitting outside in a tempest while he had been placidly sitting by a fire.
A tempest raged inside her, starting in her stomach and working its way up to her heart. It offered strange, uncomfortable pulses that made her want to shove past him and escape.
Oliver met her gaze long enough for her heart to seem like it had stopped beating. His slight, knowing smile made her frown. He couldn’t possibly fathom the affect he had on her, surely? Yes, he was the sort of man wholly confident and calm in how he interacted with the opposite sex, but she had offered him nothing but mild annoyance yesterday. Evenshehad not anticipated her body’s reaction to him.
Why oh why must he unsettle her so?
“That dog is scarcely a dog,” Oliver muttered.
“Oh I agree,” Chastity said.
“He’s an excellent dog,” Blake argued.
“The thing was flea-ridden and looked more like a rat.” Oliver paused by a painting of Eleanor and her sisters, peering closely at it for a moment before turning. “An ugly rat.”
“Oliver, you are not talking of Ernest, are you?” Demeter entered the drawing room, Ernest in tow.
The dog plopped himself down by Oliver’s feet and rolled onto his back, his tongue hanging loose from his mouth.
Oliver eyed the dog. “Get up, silly mutt.” He rolled his eyes, and bent to give the dog a brief rub on his belly.
“You cannot call him a mutt,” Demeter protested.
A slight pang of envy jolted through Eleanor when Oliver turned a warm smile upon her sister. Similar in looks to Chasity but slighter and with far less confidence, Demeter had blossomed since falling in love with Blake. Did Oliver regret that Blake had snared her perhaps? Did he covet his friend’s fiancée?
She would not put it past him. After all, his appetite for women was renowned no matter what he said about gossip not always being true. One does not wind up in the scandal sheets on a regular basis without at least some hints of truth.
Unless it was about her, of course. She had never done a single scandalous thing in her life. Her very existence was enough of a scandal.
“I think you are both mad,” Oliver said, “and you could have had a beautifully bred hound of some sort rather than…whatever that is.” He gestured to the animal.
Eleanor had to admit, Ernest was not the most attractive of dogs, but Demeter and Blake adored him much like the mother of an ugly child might.
Demeter bent and cupped Ernest’s face between her hands, dropping a kiss to the animal’s wiry head. “You are the most handsome dog in the world. Don’t you listen to Uncle Oliver.”
Oliver’s eyebrow quirked. “Uncle? I did not agree to this.”
Demeter propped her hands on her hips. “You do not g-get to choose whether you are an uncle or not.”
“I choose not.”
“Uncle Oliver is a dolt, Ernest, ignore him.” Blake told the dog. “Come, we had better make haste. I think the dog needs to relieve himself.” He jerked his head toward Oliver. “Will you do that thing for me?” he asked Oliver.
Eleanor eyed the exchange of looks between the two men, but it went unnoticed by Demeter, who took Ernest’s lead and found herself being dragged to the door.
“Won’t be long,” her sister trilled.
Eleanor swallowed. For some reason, Oliver lingered.
