“It wasn’t a brawl, then?” Dinah was rather ashamed at having given Oliver so little credit, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Oh, it was a brawl, and rather an ugly one, but not nearly as ugly as Erskine’s mother and four sisters being tossed onto the streets because their brother wagered away every penny of his fortune.”
Dinah opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“Do you have any other objections to a marriage between us?” he asked politely, as if he were enquiring about the weather. “If so, let’s have them out now, shall we?”
Dinah did have further objections. Dozens of them, the principal one being he’d be far happier with a sweet, proper young lady as his wife, someone respectable he’d be proud to introduce to his friends. Someone like—
“Miss Spence!” Dinah blurted. “You can’t marry me because you’re going to marry Miss Spence. Indeed, the sooner we arrive at Cliff’s Edge the sooner you can get on with the business of falling in love with her and marrying her.”
Oliver’s jaw dropped open. “Miss Spence? Who the devil is Miss Spence?”
Dinah bit her lip. She and Penelope had agreed it would be best if Dinah didn’t mention Miss Spence to Oliver, it being preferable for the thing to come about naturally. She hadn’t had much choice, given the circumstances, but perhaps she shouldn’t have announced it quite so clumsily.
When she didn’t reply Oliver leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed. “Well, Dinah? Who is she, and why am I meant to be marrying a lady I’ve never met?”
“You have met her. Caroline Spence. From what I understand, she was at the house party last year at Cliff’s Edge. Penelope said she’s fair-haired with brown eyes, and that you admired her. Miss Spence is a respectable, proper young lady, and so Penelope thought—”
“She thought I’d marry her?” Oliver laughed. “I don’t like to disappoint my sister-in-law, but I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Whatever admiration I may once have felt for Caroline Spence must have been fleeting, because I don’t even remember her.”
“But if you only met her again, you’d—”
“No. I’m sure she’s a lovely young lady, but my affections lay elsewhere, and I won’t marry a lady I don’t love.”
Love.
That last word fell between them with a thud. Dinah stared at him, her heart crowding into her throat. No, it couldn’t be. Surely, he wasn’t saying he loved…her?
But the look on his face as gazed at her, the softness in his blue eyes said more than his words ever could. Denials rushed to Dinah’s lips—argument and pleas—but she didn’t speak them. She could only sit there, dread raising a chill on her skin.
Oliver knew just what he wanted to say, however. It was as if he’d imagined this moment many times in his head. “This is a courtship, Dinah.” He waved a hand around to indicate the coach.
Dinah stared blankly at him. “W-what is?”
“Our journey together from London to Cliff’s Edge. I realize it’s a bit unconventional as courtships go, but you’ve refused to see me these four weeks and more. I had no other choice than to take drastic measures.”
“Why should you want to court me?” Dinah asked, then winced at the stupidity of the question. She knew why. But understanding a thing in her head was not the same thing as believing it in her heart.
Oliver gave her a crooked smile. “For the same reason most gentlemen wish to court a lady. Because I want to marry you, Dinah.”
Dinah shook her head. Perhaps he thought he did now, but it wouldn’t last. “You don’t want to marry me, Oliver.”
“I do. I’ve wanted to marry you since you fired a pistol at me.” Oliver took her hand. “I’m in love with you, Dinah. I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you, and I believe you’re in love with me.”
Dinah gaped at him. How could he imagine she, with her icy cold heart—she, who didn’t love anything or anyone—could be in love with him? “You’re wrong. I don’t love you. That is, I do care for you, but as my friend, not my...”
What? Her husband, or her lover?
No, no, no. She was not saying the word lover to Oliver Angel. Even speaking the word aloud acknowledged it to be a possibility, and that was dangerous. She snatched her hand free of Oliver’s grip. “I’m sorry, Oliver, but I can’t marry you.”
“I know you’re afraid, but you don’t need to be.” Oliver reached for her hand again and pressed it to his chest, over his heart. “You don’t have to say you love me back. Not until you’re ready, and if you never are, well, that’s all right, too. I have enough love for both of us.”
Dinah snatched her hand away, but not before she felt his heartbeat against her palm, swift and strong, pounding with love wasted on a lady who could never return it—a lady who could never love anyone.
Not him, and not herself.
Pain sliced through her, so terrible she lost her breath, and the anger buried underneath the hurt swelled against her ribs. Why was he putting them through this? Why was he making her refuse him so cruelly? “I’m not afraid of anything. I don’t love you, and I never can.”
“If you’d just give me a chance, I—”
“No. I know my own mind, Oliver. I don’t…I can’t ever think of you that way. You’ll only ever be my friend, nothing more.” Dinah sank her teeth into her lower lip until she tasted blood on her tongue. If it felt like a lie—as if she were lying to him and to herself—it would pass soon enough. All that mattered was the thing was done, and there was no reason for them to ever speak of love or marriage again.
“I don’t believe you.”
Dinah’s gaze shot to Oliver’s face. “You what? What do you mean, you don’t believe me?”
“Just what I said. I don’t believe you see me as only your friend.” Oliver regarded her with cool blue eyes. “There’s no shame in being afraid, Dinah, but don’t be a coward.”
“I’m not a coward!” Dinah stamped her foot on the floor of the carriage and the puppy jump aside with a startled yelp. “I’m not…I don’t desire you, Oliver. Is that so difficult for you to believe?”
Oliver leaned forward and pinned her with stormy blue eyes. “Yes, because I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’ve seen the way your eyes darken when I take your hand to assist you from the carriage. I’ve felt the pulse in your wrist flutter madly against my thumb when I touch you, and I’ve heard your breath catch when I smile at you.”
Dinah stared into his eyes, and for a long, terrifying moment she wondered if she’d ever find the strength to tear her gaze away. “You’re seeing what you want to see, that’s all.”
He sighed, as if he were disappointed in her. “You’re such a dreadful liar.”
She raised a hand to her throat, but then snatched it back again when she felt the frenzied flutter of her pulse, the swift rise and fall of her chest. “I’m not lying.”
“Oh?” Oliver leaned threw a casual arm across the back of his seat, but his blue eyes were glittering with frustration. “Prove it.”