The Master of Blackthorne Park (Blackthorne Park Romance #3)

Chapter One

A buzz of people could be heard as Oliver Linfield and his brother-in-law Nathaniel Towne reached the top of the main staircase at Fulbourn House, the London residence of Oliver’s uncle, the Earl of Fulbourn.

Oliver and Nat had arrived in Town not an hour previously to discover that his aunt was planning to host a small social gathering for that very night.

Small for a countess, at any rate. And as a houseguest, he had no choice but to attend.

Aunt Fulbourn had failed to mention the soiree when she’d replied to his letter about his travel plans.

She likely suspected that he would have delayed his journey had he known. A fair assessment.

“If you wanted to avoid London society, we should have stayed with my mother,” Nat commented before starting down the stairs.

Oliver glared at the back of the man’s head before following him.

Nat knew exactly why they were not staying with Nat’s mother and stepfather.

Oliver’s mother, Lady Diana, had insisted they stay with her brother.

Apparently, Lady Fulbourn was quite put out with him after the last time he had come to London and not paid his respects.

The two men reached the bottom and followed the familiar corridor into the drawing room. As they entered, Oliver lowered his voice and said, “How long do we have to stay without causing offense?”

Nat paused just inside the door. “At least until after the entertainment.”

“Hmph,” was all the response Oliver could muster.

“There is a solution, you know.” Nat kept his own voice quiet.

Oliver knew exactly what his brother-in-law meant. There was only one reason his mother had suddenly become obsessed with maintaining and growing their social connections. “I do not need a wife.”

Ever since his twin brother, Tim, had married the previous summer, everyone seemed determined to see Oliver settled. But at only eight and twenty, he did not see the rush. Plenty of gentlemen did not marry until their thirties.

In truth, Oliver was not opposed to the idea of marriage.

He’d simply never met a woman who captured his attention for longer than a single dance.

When he married, if he married, it would be to someone with whom he wanted to spend time every day.

Like his parents. The idea of a business arrangement where he lived his life and she lived hers held no appeal.

And if Oliver never met such a woman, he would simply leave Blackthorne Park to one of Tim’s eventual children.

Or, given that the estate was not entailed, he could leave it to whomever he wished.

Oliver’s mind caught hold of the idea with glee.

Maybe he could adopt Jerry, the boy Tim had taken off the streets of Southampton and put to work at the vicarage.

Oliver could move the lad into Blackthorne Park and declare him his heir.

What would his mother and Lady Fulbourn think of that?

“I am so glad to see you smiling,” a high-pitched voice spoke beside him. Oliver turned to find that his aunt had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. “This should be a most pleasant evening. I hope you both enjoy it.”

“I’m sure we will, my lady.” Nat bowed politely. “Thank you for having us.”

“Yes, thank you, my lady,” Oliver added with his own subtle bow.

A group of ladies came into the room, causing Aunt Fulbourn to look up. “I must greet my other guests. A hostess’s work is never done. But I hope to see you often while you are in London.”

Nat and Oliver offered polite agreement before the woman flitted away. Once she was out of earshot, Nat nodded towards the group of people congregating around a table laden with small treats and cups of punch. “Would you like to join me, or do you plan to hover near the door?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Oliver replied. “I plan to hover, of course.”

Nat let out a huff of amusement. “Suit yourself.” He then left Oliver to his own devices and headed towards the crowd.

There must have been at least three dozen people in the room already.

A small gathering indeed. Oliver took after his father in more than just looks.

The late Charles Linfield had never enjoyed socializing in crowds.

He had much preferred small groups, or, better yet, a library with a book. Oliver felt much the same way.

Oliver loitered along the walls for a few minutes, watching the crowds.

According to the information he had secured from his aunt’s servants, the itinerary for the evening called for mingling over refreshments before settling in for a pre-planned musical performance.

At least it was not one of those dreaded musical evenings where he might be called upon to sing.

Leaving Nat to mingle, Oliver slipped back out into the corridor and strode toward the foyer. He needed a moment to himself before facing the rest of the evening. Thankfully, he knew just the place.

The entrance hall of Fulbourn House featured two large ornate pots with some type of tall fern growing out of them.

Each plant sat in front of a purpose-built alcove, and the one on the left had just enough space to slip behind the potted plant and disappear.

He’d found the spot playing hide and seek as a child, and had since used the refuge during any number of social events over the years.

It was a tight squeeze for a grown man, but he could still make it through.

Oliver looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone as he slipped into his favorite London hiding spot.

A high-pitched yelp caused him to spin around and press his back against the side of the alcove.

When he looked up, he found himself staring into the most mesmerizing chocolate-brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“Can I help you?”

The question snapped Oliver back to the present.

A petite young woman with curly brown hair and a defiant expression stood with her back pressed against the opposite side of the alcove.

Still, they stood close enough that he could have reached out and tugged at one of the curls framing her lovely face.

But now was not the time for such thoughts.

He needed to be a gentleman. “My apologies, miss. I did not see you there.”

Her expression softened, and the corner of her soft pink lips curled up. “Which, I believe, is the point of my current position.”

Oliver held back a chuckle. “Indeed. I have often found this location convenient for that very purpose.”

“Are you here to claim it from me?” She stood up straighter, as if prepared to defend her right to the alcove.

As the top of her head did not even reach his shoulder, she was anything but intimidating.

There was also a gleam in her eyes that made Oliver suspect he was being teased. Two could play that game.

“While tempting,” he squared his own shoulders theatrically, “I am afraid my honor as a gentleman demands that I surrender this fine shelter to you.”

“That is very gallant of you,” she nodded before donning an overdone look of concern, “Can you make it to the other alcove without being seen?”

“Alas, it does not have a large enough gap.” He’d only been ten years old the last time he’d attempted to hide behind the second potted plant. Even then, it had been a tight fit. “No, I believe I must brave the crowd and return to the party.”

The young lady gave a firm nod. “I wish you courage, then.”

“My thanks.” Oliver nodded grandly before stepping back out into the open.

Part of him felt disappointment that he’d not been able to hide for more than a few moments.

But the strange interaction with the young woman had somehow served the same purpose.

He really felt as though she had granted him the courage to face the evening.

When Oliver reentered the drawing room, Nat came up alongside him and whispered, “Smiling twice at the same social event? Did I bring the wrong brother?”

Oliver forced his face back into the mask of indifference he normally wore when out in society. “Is that better?”

“Much.”

A few minutes after Oliver returned to the drawing room, Aunt Fulbourn announced the next portion of the evening.

All the guests began moving towards the chairs that had been arranged in several rows at the side of the room.

As he and Nat found seats near the side of the second row, Oliver could not help but wonder if the young woman from the alcove would slip in the back or spend the evening in hiding.

Kitty let out a deep breath as she leaned the back of her head against the alcove wall.

When the strange gentleman had first invaded her hiding place, she’d felt a wave of terror at being discovered.

But then her reaction quickly changed to amusement when she realized he had also wanted a place to retreat.

Perhaps he had been hiding from an unwanted admirer?

With his dark hair and golden-brown eyes, he was more than handsome enough to attract the attention of the fairer sex.

Though she would never admit it aloud, her own heartbeat had sped up when he entered the alcove, and not just from fear.

It had then achieved a full gallop when he returned her teasing.

After one last calming breath, Kitty slipped back into the foyer.

If she stayed any longer, her mother might suspect she’d been hiding.

And that would lead to yet another lecture on proper behavior and doing her duty to society.

In truth, Kitty was not hiding from society as a whole.

She was, in fact, hiding from her mother.

The woman had done little besides embarrass herself, and Kitty, since they’d arrived in London from Lincolnshire two years prior.