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Jarvis shrugged. “Do you want me to act as a model for the perfume as well? I do not mind trying it on.”
“No, that scent won’t do for you,” Olivia replied immediately. “Your natural scent is fresh with a bit of spice. You smell as though you spend a lot of time out of doors, without applying any powder or pomades.” Jarvis blinked as if startled. “You need a hint of tobacco and… pine. I would add lavender and rose to that mix as well.”
Now that she thought about it, her favorite Scots pine tree would be a perfect fit for Jarvis. She associated Jarvis with the scent of that tree ever since they were children.
Jarvis scoffed. “Lavender and rose? Do you want me to smell like one of the ladies?”
Olivia raised her brow at him. “No, you’ll smell like you, only nicer.” She pursed her lips so as not to laugh. “And you shall love it, you’ll see.”
“Oh, Jarvis, darling! I am so sorry to keep you waiting. I hope Olivia was polite enough to offer you some tea?” Olivia’s mother, Viscountess Landen, entered the room and addressed Jarvis without preamble.
Since their families have been friends for generations, they rarely stood on formalities in each other’s company. Jarvis was allowed in their house during any hour of the day. After his parents passed, Olivia’s father took the young viscount under his wing and helped him get on his feet when he was expected to take the reins of his lands.
Viscount Landen was afraid that being as young as Jarvis was when he inherited the viscountcy, he would be swayed by the debauched ways of his arrogant cousin Greyson, but that did not happen. Jarvis very quickly took hold of his lands and was a very responsible landowner. Or at least that’s what Olivia’s father had said to her. Jarvis rarely discussed business matters with her.
“No, actually,” Jarvis replied as he bowed over Viscountess Landen’s outstretched hand. “She did not.” He smiled and winked at Olivia as the latter narrowed her eyes at him.
“We do not have a lot of time, Mama,” Olivia answered, still not taking her furious gaze off Jarvis. “I thought it was better spent dancing than drinking tea.”
“Oh, nonsense.” Her mother waved the issue away. “There’s always time for tea.”
“Perhaps after dancing, then?” Jarvis said with a smile, obviously trying to appease Olivia. “Your daughter seems very determined to start her lessons, and I would hate to be the reason she is not married.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Please, Mama, can we proceed to the ballroom now, or should I listen to you two banter all night?”
“Of course, my child, anything you want,” her mother said, winking at Jarvis, and they all left for the ballroom.
Music echoed through the ballroom as Jarvis stood opposite Olivia and performed well-rehearsed moves. Olivia wasn’t terrible at dancing. He honestly didn’t know what she expected him to do, but she insisted on practicing. There was something awkward and peculiar about the way she moved, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. More than that, he didn’t much care.
They moved around the ballroom to the tune of the piano. The music was pleasant; the company was pleasant. Why would it matter if she wasn’t the most accomplished dancer in the world?
“Olivia, dear, raise your head and look at Jarvis!” Viscountess Landen exclaimed.
There it was. That’s what was different. Olivia did not make eye contact with him throughout the dance. She looked at her feet, slouching in the process, and her movements had an odd gait because of that. Jarvis hadn’t noticed that, however. Probably because he was used to Olivia looking away and not at him during most of their conversations.
Olivia raised her head, complying with her mother’s demands, and looked straight into Jarvis’s eyes. Her gaze was panicked, her eyes open wide. Her lips quivered, and her eyes moved around as if uncertain where to settle her gaze. She made a step and faltered.
“Damn and blast!” she cried in frustration, and Jarvis let out a bark of laughter.
“Olivia!” her mother gasped, mortified. “Ladies do not curse.”
“I know, Mother. But ladies are also able to dance without supervision. I am certainly not a lady.”
“Yes, you are. We’ll go again. From the moment you faltered.”
Olivia raised a pleading gaze to Jarvis, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Lady Landen,” he said as he turned to address her mother. “Perhaps we need a little break. Olivia won’t be able to dance if she’s feeling frustrated.”
“She needs to learn and work through her frustrations. What if it happened on an actual dancefloor, during some grand ball? Every eye would be on her. She needs to learn to laugh it off and continue dancing as if nothing has happened. But of course, you should never curse, my dear.”
“I shall try to remember that,” Olivia answered, her smile tight.
“Well, I, for one, feel quite parched,” Jarvis continued. “I do not mean to be a bother, but perhaps it is time for that cup of tea before we continue the lessons?”
Lady Landen directed a knowing smile toward him and stood gracefully from the bench. “Of course, I shall ask the housekeeper to bring us some tea. And perhaps I shall check on your father,” she said to Olivia. “He has spent the entire afternoon behind his desk. He is certain to be bored out of his wits. Perhaps he’d want to watch the two of you dance. Yes, I shall go ask him to join us.” Lady Landen walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Olivia let out a breath. “I am hopeless.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just too tense.” Jarvis wanted to reach out and take her into his arms. He wanted to soothe her nerves and knead the tense muscles on her shoulders. He folded his hands behind his back.
