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Oliver laughed. “Well, I decided I didn’t want to make you walk all the way to Larkhall in the cold. I planned to walk to your house, but it seems I am too late.”
“This is better, isn’t it?” Julia asked, adjusting the ties on her cloak. “We may discuss our mischievous plan in secret out here.”
“You’re right.” It was very improper to do so, and Oliver knew Julia’s mother would be fit to be tied if she knew, but at the moment, he didn’t care.If they were caught and any scandal was assumed, he would simply have an excuse to offer to marry her without fear of being rejected.Though that was not ideal either. He wanted Julia to love him. He suspected that she had cared for him once, but that had been a long time ago, long before he had failed at his career and lost his fingers. He looked down at his bandaged hand without intending to.
“I know the perfect place,” Julia said, starting toward the trees. Discussing their secret scheme out of doors out in the open was one thing, but hiding among the trees to do so was another. There were any number of people who could pass through and find them there, likely to assume scandal.
But, like a puppy, Oliver followed her. “Where are you going?” he asked.
Julia walked quickly, and the elderly Rupert struggled to keep up.
She didn’t travel far before stopping beside the stream with the bridge that she and Oliver had sat at countless times. She turned around with a smile that made his heart stutter. “Do you remember this place? It is only fitting that we discuss our plan here.” She walked onto the bridge, sitting on the edge and dangling her feet over the partially frozen water.
Oliver joined her, holding Rupert in his lap. “How long can we last before we freeze?” he asked.
“I would wager only a few minutes.” She reached for the dog, pulling him toward her and wrapping him up in her cloak. He turned, sniffing her face as she laughed. She wriggled away from his face as he tried to kiss her. “Perhaps less if Rupert continues to be so affectionate.”
Oliver would have loved to have been the one who was being so affectionate. He laughed at the dog, but he was envious of him at the same time. One of the last times Oliver had sat here with Julia, he had held her hand. Did she remember that day? Had she thought of it as frequently as he had?
She met his gaze, eyes bright with inquisition. “So…tell me what else you discovered about Lord Belper.”
Oliver crossed his ankles where they dangled off the edge of the bridge. “Many things. As it turns out, he despises more things in life than he likes. He made my task quite easy.” He looked down at the stream before glancing at Julia again. He should have sat on the opposite side of her. From her place, she had a clear view of the long cut on his face. It must have been unsettling to look at.
But if she was unsettled, she didn’t show it. Her smile persisted. “Soon enough, I will be at the top of that list of what he despises,” she said.
Oliver chuckled. “That is what we should hope for. But I do have doubts about our success. I think it is nearly impossible for anyone to despise you.”
A hint of color touched her cheeks. Did that happen when Lord Belper spoke to her? He didn’t think so. Perhaps she did still have some feelings for Oliver, but she was simply just as afraid to acknowledge them as he was.
“Fortunately, we know that wearing green will make me instantly despicable. Wearing my green gown to the ball will be essential,” she said, tapping her chin. “But what else might I do?”
Oliver reached toward Rupert and covered his ears before saying, “Lord Belper despises dogs.”
Julia gasped, then grimaced. “How dare he. A man who despises dogs is quite possibly the most unattractive sort.”
“I know. It is atrocious.” Oliver grinned, uncovering Rupert’s ears. The dog’s large brown eyes blinked up at him with surprise.
“How might I use that information to my advantage?” Julia raised one eyebrow.
“You might explain to him how you wish to raise three dogs alongside your children, treating them as additional members of your family.”
Julia covered her mouth, eyes wrinkled at the corners with a smile. “Perhaps I play my favorite piece by Mozart to each of my dogs, one by one, as they go to sleep at night.”
“Perfect.”
“While wearing my favorite green nightdress, of course.” She leaned toward him, laughter garnishing each word she spoke.
“He also mentioned that he hates the smell of Rosemary,” Oliver said. “In his words, ‘it makes him gag and retch.’”
She gasped. “I think my mother has a bottle of Rosemary perfume. I will spray the entire thing all over myself.”
Oliver had nearly forgotten the subject of their conversation. All he could think of was how relieving it felt to laugh again, and especially to laugh with Julia. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed the sound of her laugh.
That reminded him. “He also despises when a woman’s laughter is too high-pitched.”
“Is my laughter high-pitched?” she asked, brow creasing.
“No.” Oliver almost touched her hand to reassure her, but he stopped himself. “Your laugh is perfect.”
