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“Miss Olivia.” Bradshaw rushed toward her. He took both her hands in his. “Are you all right? I heard about the attack.”
“Yes,” Olivia said with a tight smile. “I am quite well. And my parents are well and rested by now.”
“Yes, I just saw your father. Who was it?” he asked.
“Who was—who?” Olivia wrinkled her brow in confusion.
“The people who attacked you, who were they?”
Olivia pulled her hands out of his hold and paced toward the window. “I-I do not know. Highwaymen, perhaps.”
“In the middle of London?”
Olivia shrugged. “I am not familiar with the proper terms for criminals who dwell in the city.”
“Apologies.” Bradshaw smiled at her. “I am too agitated to think clearly. I was so worried. Is it true that a masked vigilante saved you?”
He walked toward her, crowding her once more.
Olivia felt suffocated in the cramped space between the wall and Bradshaw. She looked at the door. Why was she alone in the room? The door was open, but Bradshaw was still a stranger. She shouldn’t be alone with him.
“Is it true?” Bradshaw asked.
Olivia tried to concentrate on remembering what he had asked. Oh, right, the masked vigilante. “Where did you hear that?”
Bradshaw spread his hands. “Your father told me.”
“Oh! Well, then you know.”
“He wasn’t certain. He only said what you told him when he was in a state of distress. But you were probably distressed as well. I can’t imagine the harm they could’ve done to you. I should have accompanied you.”
“Do not berate yourself, my lord. I assure you, I am well.” Olivia sidestepped him and moved toward the fireplace. He followed her.
“I shall not make that mistake again. I insist that you do not go out without my company from now on.” Olivia turned sharply and looked at him in confusion. “I am certain nobody would question my request if we made our betrothal official.”
“Betrothal?” Olivia was afraid her question sounded too sharp or too loud. But she was too taken aback by his sudden remark to regulate her volume or intonation.
“Yes. I am certain that you do not give out your favors so freely. After the kiss in the theater, I was convinced you felt amenable to marrying me.”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer, to say something, but no sound emerged.
A kiss.
Right, her masked savior was not the only person she’d shared a kiss with last night. She’d almost forgotten. She wished she could forget. In fact, she wished that kiss had never happened. Now Bradshaw felt entitled to further their acquaintance.
“Was I wrong in my judgment?” Bradshaw prompted.
“Surely you are not about to insist on an answer today, my lord,” Olivia’s mother said from the doorway, and Olivia expelled a breath of relief. “My daughter is too distressed to make an informed decision now.”
Bradshaw nodded. “Of course.”
“A-and, my father,” Olivia finally found her voice.
“The viscount already gave us his blessing,” Bradshaw said. “That is why I felt comfortable bringing this subject before you.”
Olivia blinked. “When?”
“I just spoke to him before asking to speak with you.”
