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His loins tightened, despite his resolve to leave her alone. And despite the fact he had been entertaining himself rather well over the last few days with a young woman called Petunia, who had sultry dark eyes and a body to die for.
He gazed at everyone else at the table. Lady Henrietta looked handsome in dove grey silk, and Olivia’s friend was dressed in a rather plainer gown than the other ladies, a demure lavender muslin. Lucy was as pretty as a picture in a new white silk evening gown, her hair still down as befitted a girl who had not yet made her debut, framing her face in red curls. His sister looked as nervous as he felt. Aunt Edwina had not dressed up, wearing her usual brown muslin, with the addition of a cameo at her throat.
The Earl was at the head of the table, of course. He looked delighted, pouring the wine himself, making sure that everyone got a full glass, even Lucy, who giggled a bit.
When he sat back down, he raised his wine glass in the air, his blue eyes twinkling. “I hope that is the start of many more such dinners between our families.”
They all took a sip of their wine. The first course arrived. Alexander pulled at his cravat. There seemed to be a hundred knives, forks and spoons and he had no idea which to use. Thankfully, the first course was just soup, so he watched which spoon the earl picked up and followed suit.
The evening progressed. Olivia talked mainly to Lucy, whispering behind her hand, seemingly intent on ignoring Alexander entirely. The earl chatted with Aunt Edwina about their shared family history, gaining some information on his second cousin, her father. Lady Henrietta smiled at Alexander, leaning across the table.
“Do tell me about your ship, Captain Fletcher,” she said. “It is most fascinating. Did you always wish to become a sea captain?”
He cleared his throat. “I actually have three ships, milady. I captain theMary Elizabeth, but I also own theGlorianaand theQueen Mab. I started out with next to nothing and have built the business up from the ground.”
“And you trade in spices?”
He nodded. “Mostly. And anything else that is needed. My next voyage is to the Caribbean.”
They kept talking. Alexander felt Olivia glancing at him, from time to time, listening to the conversation between him and her mother. So, she was not as indifferent as she was making out.
Still, she never spoke to him, a fact which started to irritate him more and more as the evening wore on. When Olivia stood up, excusing herself for a moment, he waited only a heartbeat before doing the same, following her out of the dining room, saying her needed a glass of water.
He followed her down the long hallway, listening to the rustle of her silk gown on the marble floor. She stopped suddenly, turning around, gaping at him.
“Are you actuallyfollowingme?” she said, in an outraged whisper.
He shrugged. He was past caring now to give her an excuse. He did not know why he was so compelled to get her attention, but he was.
“You are ignoring me,” he said, his voice low. “I thought we had called a truce.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I agreed not to fight with you. I did not agree that we must speak and pretend to be the best of friends.”
He took a step closer to her. “Did you enjoy your week away?”
“Actually, I did,” she said. “I met a rather charming gentleman, who has asked to formally court me. I am over the moon about it.”
Alexander was not prepared for the stab of jealousy which thrust upwards in his chest, like a knife. It was most disconcerting. He could not remember the last time he had felt jealous over a woman. Had it ever happened before? Perhaps not.
“Who is he?” he asked, stung, trying to suppress the ugly feeling.
She took a deep breath, raising her chin, looking him directly in the eye. “His name is Lord Bertram Langley. The son and heir of a viscount. He is very enamoured with me. And I feel the same way about him.”
“Think you have found your love match, then?” he said, watching the pulse in her throat. He had a sudden desire to press his lips to it.
“I think so,” she said gravely, nodding her head. “You should be very pleased. If we marry, it means you are off the hook entirely.”
“That would be an excellent thing,” he murmured, watching the way her long black lashes curled upwards in a rather exotic fashion. “For I do not wish to marry. Ever.”
She stared at him hard. “Why are you so against marriage? And love? What iswrongwith you?”
He snapped out of his reverie. “There is nothing wrong with me. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“There must besomethingwrong with you,” she scoffed, her ice blue eyes full of contempt. “It is not normal for someone to disdain love so vehemently and never want to marry! Did you have your heart broken and never recover?”
He stared at her, filled with quiet fury. She needed to stop talking. She opened her mouth again, ready to unleash another tirade, when he grabbed her, pulling her towards him and lowering his lips onto hers.
She stiffened instinctively, her hands moving to his chest to push him away. He kissed her harder, opening her lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He was so hard that he felt like he was going to explode. A fact which was even more surprising given he had just been busy with another woman.
He felt when it changed for her. She sagged against him, clinging to him. Her nipples were as hard as rocks against his chest. In a daze of desire, his lips left hers, raining hot kisses over her face. She moaned.
But then, she suddenly pushed him away, her eyes wide with horror.
“You are the highwayman!” she squeaked.
