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Captain Fletcher looked at her steadily. “You seem cosy with that man. The courtship is coming along well then, is it? Does it look like you have found the love match you have been longing for?”
Olivia reddened. “It is coming along nicely, thank you very much! Good day, Captain. Farewell, Lucy.”
They departed at last. It was all Olivia could do not to sag against the front door in relief. She took a deep, ragged breath, marching back into the drawing room. Bertie was waiting. She tried to ignore the inexplicable small pang of disappointment that she felt that she was going for a stroll with him instead of the Captain.
What on earth was the matter with her? She really had to get her head in order. She did not even like the man. Just because he was a wonderful kisser did not change that fact at all.
***
Alexander gazed out the carriage window thoughtfully as they headed down the long, treelined street. He had met Olivia’s suitor at last. And she had not liked that fact at all. He could tell by the pinched look that had been on her face.
“Lady Olivia looks like she is in love with that gentleman,” piped up Lucy. “They seem rather serious. Do you think she will marry him?”
Alexander felt a wave of irritation. “What do I know of it, sister? They look serious enough, even though she hardly knows the man.” He rolled his eyes. “That lady is in love with the idea of being in love. That is what I think.”
Lucy blinked rapidly. “But what is wrong with wanting to fall in love? I want a love match myself if I am ever so lucky.”
Alexander sighed. “You are far too young to think about such things,” he said. “You are only sixteen, Lucy. You have years ahead of you.”
Lucy was silent for a moment. “I have always hoped that you would find a love match too, brother. Have you ever met anyone who you think you could give your heart to?”
“No, and I am not seeking it,” he said in a tart voice. “You know my feelings on that subject.”
“I do,” said Lucy, raising her chin. “But I had hoped you might have changed your mind, brother. It has been years…”
Alexander glared at her. “We shall not speak of it. You know I never speak of it.”
Lucy bit her lip, hastily gazing out the window. There was an uncomfortable silence. Alexander sighed again. He had been too abrupt with her, but she had pushed him to it. Still, he hated any discord between them.
He drummed his fingers against the carriage door. Suddenly, he felt stifled. He would drop Lucy back at the house and then he was going to head to the docks again. He might even return to the sultry-eyed Petunia. He was in a mood to work off some of this pent up lust and frustration. To forget himself between the legs of a beautiful woman, even for just a little while.
Olivia Oakley had stirred his blood, well and truly. He could not forget that second kiss nor her stinging slap afterwards. She had known instantly he was the masked man who had kissed her at that ball. She had recognised his lips.
He had not intended the second kiss. It had just happened. But now he knew that his desire for her was fierce—it was no passing fancy, no brief infatuation. He wanted her. And he wanted her badly.
It was a crying shame, because he would never be able to have her. Olivia wanted love and he could never give her that. He had vowed to never give his heart away after the disaster when he had been young and too green to know any better. He was older now and much, much wiser.
Love was not for him. He was very certain of that.
He shifted on the seat, trying to ignore the fire in his loins at the thought of Olivia’s soft lips moving beneath his. No, it was all for the best that she fancied herself in love with her limpid suitor. The sooner the man proposed and she was married the better. Then the temptation would be gone for good.
