Still, he didn’t say anything.
“I… You see, I
want
to be the spinster aunt.”
When he didn’t immediately answer, she jerked her face away from him and looked down at her fist wrapped around the little pebble. She uncurled her fingers and let it drop to the ground.
Finally, he spoke. “Do you think I was considering marriage?”
She went instantly hot all over. “No, of course not.” Biting her lip, she looked up and confessed, “Well, not
today
… but the way you’ve been… I… don’t know. If that was the direction of your thoughts, though… I just wanted you to know that I don’t foresee marriage—to anyone—in my future. So there is no point in courting me, or in me accepting the… er…
advances
… of any suitor.” She hesitated and then added a belated and breathy, “I’m sorry.”
His hand covered hers, his palm heavy and all-encompassing. It was the first time he’d touched her skin directly with his own, and the effect sucked the remaining air from her lungs.
“I had no intention of asking for your hand in marriage.”
Olivia went instantly stiff, humiliation threatening to choke her.
Glancing at her, he raked his free hand through his hair. “God, I’m sorry if that’s what I…” He hesitated, and his expression gentled as he leaned in closer to her. “Listen to me, Olivia. Thank you for being honest with me. You’re so special, so unlike any woman I’ve ever known, and you deserve my honesty in return. The truth is, I don’t intend to marry, either.”
“You don’t?” she murmured. Didn’t all dukes require wives and heirs?
“No.”
“Why?”
He flinched, a subtle withdrawal. “It’s very complicated.” His lips twisted. “I suppose it comes down to the
fact that I’ve always known I’d make a very poor husband. I wouldn’t want to cause any woman unhappiness, so I’ve known for a long time that marriage wasn’t for me.”
“Oh.” She looked up at him, confused on many levels. “Then what—why are you—Why did it seem like you wanted to—?”
She stopped speaking abruptly as the truth slammed into her. She didn’t think she could get any hotter from embarrassment, but now she was certain she must be scarlet. She tore her gaze away from him again.
Suddenly, the pressure of his palm on hers took on a completely different meaning, and she yanked her hand out from under his like it had scorched her. She turned wide eyes on him. “Oh. Oh, dear.”
His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to her, the concern deepening on his face. “What’s wrong—?”
She raised her hand to stop his words, then closed her eyes and bent her head forward with a groan, slapping her palm over her forehead. “I am so stupid.”
“Olivia—”
“I should have known
that’s
what you wanted from me.” She braced herself, removed her palm from her forehead, and looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Max. I won’t… I thought you understood—I’m simply not the kind of woman who’s free with her… favors.”
The last word almost caught in her throat, and she coughed, even as her traitorous body rebelled against her words. She was flushed and needy. Whenever his skin touched hers, it relieved some of the ache while at the same time spreading the desire for
more.
Max spoke softly. “I know that.”
“Do you? Are you certain? Because—” She hesitated,
then gazed at him. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what this is…” She waved her hand between the two of them. “But… I can say with almost complete certainty that it is becoming a rather unusual friendship.”
“I’m very attracted to you, Olivia.”
His words made her body jolt backward. “What?”
Her voice came out in a squeak. There it was again—she sounded, and certainly looked, like a complete ninny.
“I’m attracted to you,” he repeated. “And I believe you’re attracted to me, too.”
Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t say she wasn’t attracted to him—that would be a lie. “Be that as it may,” she managed, “it doesn’t… I can’t…” She sucked in a breath. “I told you—I want to be the spinster aunt. By that, I don’t mean the
disgraced
spinster aunt.”
His green gaze narrowed. “Do you think that’s what I’d do? Disgrace you?”
No, he’d touch her all over with those big hands of his. He’d relieve her need, bring her pleasure…
Oh, Lord. The way she was beginning to think about Max was utterly scandalous and improper. She must
not
think of what he’d do to her. Goodness, her body was running hot one second then cold the next. She was completely out of her depth.
“I don’t know,” she said breathlessly. She shook her head. “This discussion is highly…”
embarrassing, awkward, distressing,
“… improper.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, but a smile teased at the corners of his lips. “You brought the subject up.”
“Because I felt it must be brought up before things went too far. I was feeling…” She searched desperately for the right word.
“… an attraction,” he finished for her.
She screwed her eyes shut. “Yes. An attraction.”
After a long silence, he murmured, “It doesn’t need to be like this.”
“Like what?” Her voice was a wisp of sound on the air.
“Upsetting.”
“What should it be like?”
Her hand was resting flat on the rock, and he lifted it in his own. When she didn’t move away, he turned it over and placed a soft kiss in her palm, his lips and fingers warm against her skin.
Olivia found the gentle touch so wildly erotic that she had to focus on her breathing—it was speeding up so quickly, the world was blurring.
“It should feel good,” he murmured against her palm. “Exciting.”
“It does,” she said on a near groan.
He lowered her hand and squeezed it between both of his own. “Don’t be afraid of me, Olivia. I will do nothing to you that you don’t want. And I would never, ever see you disgraced.”
God help her, she was tempted. So tempted. Every cell in her body demanded that she submit, that she say,
Yes, Max. Take me. Do whatever it is with me that you please
.
But she couldn’t. She had to protect herself, her family, her
future.
“This can’t… we can’t. I want to be your friend, but I think we should try to stay apart for a while, until…” She stumbled over the words as her body screamed for one thing and her mind—a mind that had been trained for many years to believe it held a specific place in the world,
and that place would never involve a man’s touch—screamed that this wasn’t right.
His fingers slipped away from hers, and his expression grew somber. “I’m a patient man, Olivia. I’ll give you the time you need. But understand that I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready, I’ll be right here. Waiting.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. So she nodded, then rose to her feet.
He retrieved his coat, and quietly, they walked back to the house.
O
livia gazed out the drawing room window as Jessica sat at the desk agonizing over the dinner plans she and Lady Fenwicke had made for them all this evening. Olivia had been working on her embroidery, keeping her sister company.
But she couldn’t focus on sewing. She couldn’t focus at all.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. For the past week, Max had left her alone, for the most part. They still played tennis. They still laughed together. They were friends.
It felt different, though. And if she were honest with herself, she missed his charged touches, those looks he’d given her that were infused with such meaning… such
heat.
She missed
him.
Her gaze wandered toward the window. Outside, the sun had descended over the treetops of the forest. The
men had gone off to hunt late this morning, but they’d stayed out longer than usual.
She turned to Jessica. “I’m going for a walk.”
Jessica looked up from the scattered papers. “Oh, all right.” She scowled at the clock above the mantel. “Beatrice is already ten minutes late.”
“She’ll be here soon,” Olivia soothed.
“I know… I just…” Jessica shook her head. “I should have asked her to come earlier. That way we wouldn’t have had to rush to prepare for this evening.”
“You’ll do wonderfully, Jess. I’m sure of it.”
Olivia finished tucking her embroidery into her basket. When she rose to leave and was brushing smooth the dark patterned length of her skirts, Jessica asked, “Will you join Phoebe and Meg, do you think?”
Their sisters had gone visiting tenants after luncheon. “Perhaps,” Olivia said noncommittally as she turned to leave. “I’ll see you at dinner. It’ll be spectacular! Don’t worry so much.” With those words of encouragement, Olivia went to her bedchamber to collect her bonnet, pelisse, and gloves, and then she slipped out the front door and into the crisp autumn air.
She walked for a long while, realizing that it had been days since she’d just come out to the forest and walked by herself. She’d been too caught up in all the activities of Jonathan’s house party.
It was pleasant to be alone again. To be far from society, from people. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Clouds had gathered, darkening the sky more than usual for this time of day.
She was just about to turn around to head back to the house when she heard the whicker of a horse, followed by
the sound of plodding hoof beats, and her heart sped. She’d only half paid attention to following the trail, but she looked down now, and, yes, she could see clear imprints of horses’ hooves in the mud. The gentlemen had ridden in this direction earlier today, and now they were returning home.
She saw Jonathan’s horse first—a fine black gelding he adored. When he saw her, he reined in.
“Olivia!”
“Good afternoon, Jonathan. How was your hunting?” She smiled up at them, then greeted Captain Langley and Max, who were riding behind him.
“Excellent,” Jonathan said. “We were able to shoot a few grouse today. Even Max got one.”
She turned her smile on Max, who’d drawn up behind Captain Langley. “Well done!”
“What are you doing out here?” Jonathan asked. “Looks like it might rain.”
“Just walking. Don’t worry—a little damp won’t kill me.”
Jonathan gave her a dour look. Behind him, Captain Langley frowned up at the sky.
“You will ride home with us.” Jonathan began to dismount so that he could lift her into his saddle.
Olivia held her ground. “Oh, no, please, Jonathan. Do go on ahead. I’ve no wish to ride home with you—I’ve been enjoying my walk.”
Jonathan’s look darkened even more. Behind him, Max was dismounting. “You two go on ahead. I’ll see Miss Donovan home.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath through his lips, Jonathan nodded at Max, then turned a scowl back down on her. “Are you certain you will be all right?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” She addressed all three men. “I
don’t need to be coddled, gentlemen. Rest assured, I am perfectly able to walk home.”
Jonathan and Captain Langley exchanged a knowing look and Olivia pursed her lips—so Captain Langley knew about her ailment. It shouldn’t surprise her, she supposed—the captain knew most of their family’s deepest secrets.
“I think I’d prefer to walk as well.” Max gave her a friendly smile as he handed Captain Langley his reins. “Stretch my legs a bit.”
Captain Langley took the reins, and then he and Jonathan continued on, both tipping their hats to her as they rode by.
When they were out of earshot, Max said, “I really would prefer to walk with you.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “You do know I am quite capable of walking myself.”
“I know,” he said.
They walked in silence for a while, then she asked, “Did you enjoy shooting the grouse?”
“Not really,” he said, and chuckled.
She laughed, too. “I suppose hunting isn’t for you.”
“I suppose not.”
“And tennis isn’t either.”
“Unfortunately not, though I do enjoy it.” He paused, seeming to hesitate, then added, “When I’m playing with you.”
“Thank you. But I’m sorry you haven’t found the diversion you’ve been searching for.”
“But I have found a diversion.”
From the low timbre of his voice, from the way he said the words, she didn’t need to ask him what he meant.
She
was his diversion.
She wasn’t offended. It was fair for him to say it. After all, he’d been her diversion, too.
“So have I,” she admitted quietly.
Side by side, they walked along in comfortable silence. The terrain was jagged here, with mossy rock outcroppings on both sides of the horse trail.
The warmth of Max’s body beside her did strange things to Olivia’s insides. Max’s sleeve brushed against hers, and she shuddered. Instantly, he began to fumble with his buttons. “You’re cold. Here, wear my coat.”
She slid her gaze toward his coat. It was the one she’d mended after he’d rescued her tennis ball from beneath the rose bush. She’d done the best job she could, and apparently it had been enough. Max’s valet hadn’t discovered the tiny flaw in the stitches and sacrificed the poor garment, along with his master, to the fire.
“No, it’s quite all right. I’m not cold at all.”
“Then why—” He sidestepped a rock and brushed against her again… and she shuddered again.
He said nothing. At that moment, she could have kissed him for his silence. And for so many other reasons.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He raised his dark brows. “For what?”
“For the respect you have shown me in the past week.”
He frowned, a muscle working in his jaw. “I like you, Olivia. And I admire you. I am not going to push you toward anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“I know. And I feel so grateful for that. Many men wouldn’t care about such a thing.” She thought about Lord Fenwicke and how he’d pawed her, and a cold sweat broke out along her spine.
His frown deepened. “They should.”
“I know. But they don’t.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Damned Fenwicke,” he muttered under his breath.
She jerked to a stop, looking up at him in utter despair. “What?”
“What did Fenwicke do to you?” There was an edge of violence in his voice that she’d never heard before.