“I don’t see you have a choice. He’ll demand an explanation when you arrive at Cliff’s Edge.”
“Cliff’s Edge? You must be mad. I’m not going to Cliff’s Edge.” Oliver ambled across the room toward the fireplace, dropped into a plump leather chair and rested his slippered foot on the grate.
Dinah hurried after him. “Of course, you’re going. You’ve already promised you would.”
“That was before Lord Erskine made a mess of my face. I can’t turn up at Cliff’s Edge looking like this. Penelope and Maddy will fret, Christopher will laugh, and William will be furious.” Oliver gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’m much better off staying in London.”
“You can’t stay in London, Oliver.” Dinah’s voice cracked as her composure began to desert her. “It’s the Christmas holidays, and your family wants you at home. I’ve promised Penelope I’d see to it you leave today.”
“Yes, and why is that, Miss Bishop? Do my brother and sister-in-law suppose I require a nanny, and have appointed you to do the job?” Oliver’s voice was harsher than he intended, but it rankled that Will and Penelope thought he needed supervision. He’d given them no reason—
“Perhaps they’re not pleased with your new choice of mistress.”
Oliver frowned. “Mistress? What mis—”
“Lady Serena, Oliver? One might have hoped you’d choose more wisely.”
Oliver stared at her, speechless. For God’s sake, did they all think he’d taken Lady Serena as his mistress? How in the world could they ever think he’d choose—
His gaze shot to Dinah, who was looking anywhere but at him.
Ah, now it was starting to make sense. He should have guessed it at once. Dinah had told Penelope he’d made Lady Serena his mistress, Penelope had told Will, and now his entire family was in despair over his imminent ruin.
This rankled as well, but he couldn’t really blame them. If they supposed he was bedding Lady Serena, it was no wonder Willian had insisted Oliver return to Cliff’s Edge. Lady Serena had ruined the health and fortunes of more than one gentleman, and now she had her claws into Erskine.
“You must go to Cliff’s Edge, Oliver. I insist on it. I won’t leave here until you promise to go.”
Dinah’s eyes flashed with temper, and Oliver stared at her, transfixed. Those dark blue eyes of hers…damnation. How could she expect him to do anything other than fall in love with her, with those eyes?
But he didn’t say so. He couldn’t speak to her about love—not until she agreed to listen to him—and if she had her way, that would be never. She’d done a remarkably good job of avoiding him these past few weeks. How was he meant to win her heart if she refused to ever see him?
Dinah was waiting, her foot tapping anxiously. “I’ll have your word on this, Oliver.”
He stared at her, an idea taking shape in his mind. It wasn’t fair—not at all—but he’d happily tolerate a twinge or two of guilt if it meant winning the hand of his chosen lady. Whoever had said desperate times called for desperate measures had surely been in love.
“Perhaps I could see fit to go.” Oliver tapped a finger against his lips, as if considering it. “That is, under certain conditions.”
Dinah gave him a suspicious look. “What conditions?”
Oliver met her gaze, his heart pounding. “I want you to come with me.”
Her eyes went wide. “Go to Cliff’s Edge with you? You know I can’t, Oliver. I’ve got the pantomime at the Playhouse. Why, Silas will go mad if I leave on such short notice!”
“Not if you tell him Lord and Lady Archer have summoned you to Essex.” Silas Bragg, the manager of the Pandemonium Playhouse would push Dinah out the door himself if he thought it would gain him Will and Penelope’s favor. “Every actress in the theater knows your part. He’ll find someone else to take it.”
“But I can’t possibly…I didn’t intend…I’m not prepared for the trip.” Dinah paced from one end of the room to the other, her brow furrowed.
“It would please Lady Archer if you came. I know she pleaded with you to join us at Cliff’s Edge for Christmas. Really, Miss Bishop, I don’t know how you can refuse her, given how anxious she is about Baby Angel.”
Penelope and Will’s first child would arrive early in the new year. Until he or she was born, the child was affectionately referred to by all the family as Baby Angel.
Dinah stopped in the middle of the room, a guilty flush rising in her cheeks.
Oliver nearly gave in when he saw that flush, but this wasn’t the time to succumb to a fit of the vapors, for God’s sake. He braced himself with a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I see you don’t like it. Well, no matter. We’ll both remain in London, then. Just as well, really. Travel is such a bother.”
I nearly have her…
Oliver clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, as if didn’t matter one way or the other to him, but underneath his casual manner he was holding his breath. Dinah’s next words would seal his lonely fate or ensure his future happiness.
Her happiness, as well. He was certain she loved him, even if she wasn’t. Until Dinah dared to trust love, Oliver would just have to trust in it enough for them both.
He waited, a thousand lifetimes passing by as she made her decision. His hopes soared and then crashed with every fleeting expression on her face, until at last she heaved a deep sigh.
“It never ceases to amaze me how you contrive to get your way every time. Very well, I’ll go. It’s only a day or two, in any case. What difference can a few days make?”
Far more than you can ever imagine.
Indeed, he was counting on it.
Dinah left soon afterwards. A little while later Grim peered cautiously around the study door and let out a relieved breath when he saw she’d gone. “Will you go to Cliff’s Edge after all then, my lord?”
“Listening at the door again?” Oliver laughed when Grim flushed bright red. “Tomorrow morning, and you’re coming with us. Tell me, Grim. Do I look like a man about to embark on a courtship?”
“A courtship, my lord?”
“Yes, indeed. As soon as the coach door closes behind us, I intend to begin courting Miss Bishop.”
“Courtship in a coach, my lord?” Grim looked doubtful. “That isn’t the usual sort of thing, is it?”
Oliver grinned. “No, Grim, it isn’t. Not at all.”
But Dinah Bishop wasn’t the usual sort of lady.
CHAPTER 3
LORD OLIVER’S TRAVELING COACH, EARLY MORNING, DECEMBER 27TH
They weren’t even an hour into their journey before Dinah realized the depths of her folly in letting Oliver cajole her into this scheme.
She turned from the window to study him. He was lounging on the seat across from her, one booted foot dangling across his knee and his arm thrown over the back of the carriage seat. His dark hair was charmingly disheveled, and his dimple flirted at the corner of his mouth with every twitch of his lips, as if it were playing a game of hide-and-seek.