Chapter 4 #2
It was difficult not to touch him, not with his warmth so close by, but Olive did her best to focus on the sermon.
The threatened rain broke again that evening and continued for several days. Olive was used to being indoors, but for the first time ever, she begrudged the weather for keeping her from her goal.
“Dinnae fash yerself, lass,” Phineas said with a wink as he took her hand Monday morning. “We’ll be able to investigate the dig soon enough.”
“I know,” she sighed, shifting her grip on the rolled charts in her other hand. “I am just anxious to compare the maps—and our theories—against the site.”
“I ken what ye mean. There’s just something about being in situ which makes the layout of the site sort of click into place. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which way is which when ye’re looking at a chart.”
The reminder this man has seen many archeological sites and had found glorious wonders—at risk of life and limb, no less—made her stomach flop. But the fact he was discussing this one with her, as if she were an equal, made her stomach flop in an entirely different way.
Perhaps she just had a floppy stomach?
Perhaps you should not have eaten that third rasher of bacon this morning.
But…bacon. She wasn’t going to pass up bacon. Doing so would be immoral.
As the day wore on, it became almost funny to see how Lady Dumpkins ran about, becoming increasingly more desperate to organize activities for her guests. Since the outdoor activities weren’t possible, her poor staff were run ragged attempting to satisfy her urge to keep everyone occupied.
“What does my father see in her? Does he like tornados?” Phineas murmured to Olive as their hostess shooed them out of the library toward one of the front parlors where games were being set up.
Olive smiled slightly as the back of his fingers brushed against hers as they walked. “Desperate women do desperate things, and she seems unwilling to allow us to make our own amusement.”
He whispered something which sounded like, “Zeus protect us,” which made her smirk.
The gentlemen in the gathering seemed less than excited about the charades Lady Dumpkins had organized, and Olive noticed more than a few excusing themselves.
The Duke of Cashard escorted his mother and his sister to their seats, gave them both curt nods, then turned on his expensive heel and strode haughtily from the room, refusing to acknowledge anyone else on his way to the study Lady Dumpkins said he’d claimed as his own.
But all contemplation on the other man went out the window when Phineas rested his arm on the back of her chair, so his fingers brushed enticingly against her shoulder.
Olive was torn between blushing and preening.
He was practically staking his claim on her, and she was just a jumble of happy nerves at the thought.
Anyone could see they were perfectly suited for one another, couldn’t they? Certainly, Phineas’s life experiences were much greater than hers, but she wanted—no, longed for—those same experiences, and he was treating her as if they were equal!
Also, when it was her turn to perform, he guessed her charade—pedaling a bicycle—in very little time, therefore proving they were very well-matched indeed.
Oh dear. I suspect I am finding any excuse to fall in love with the man, am I not?
The next three days were filled with more parlor games, crafting exhibitions, and more painting than someone like Olive was comfortable with.
Her sisters teased her about her poor talents, but after her attempt at sketching the gentlemen in ersatz Roman togas—really, who thought those were accurate—from a few weeks back, she’d avoided the arts whenever possible.
Olive’s brother—and the L’arbre girls’ mostly missing chaperone—was happily ensconced in the game room with a few other guests, and he confided to them that he’d won enough to keep Mother and Father happily settled for the rest of their days.
Olive was happy for Ash, and for their family, but it was hard to focus on anything besides Phineas.
Because Monday evening, he kissed her again.
They were standing together at the window in the library, each lost in their thoughts as they stared at the rain hitting the glass, highlighted by the occasional strike of lightening.
Olive was idly wondering what the rain was doing to the dig site, and how many years of rain and river floods it would take to wear down the exposed Roman foundations, which had endured so much already, when she felt his hand on her arm.
She turned to see the last of the guests had wandered out of the room at some point, leaving her and Phineas alone. That was all she had time to notice before his lips came crashing down upon hers, and she instantly lost the ability for all rational thought.
Well, now she knew what he’d been standing there contemplating, didn’t she?
This kiss was hot and desperate, and proved he’d just been waiting for a chance to be alone with her. Olive snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and was rewarded with a muffled little groan of need.
His hands settled on her hips, but instead of pulling her closer, he turned them so she was flush against the window.
The coolness pressed against her back, and then he was pressed against her front, trapping her in the most wonderful way.
Delicious sensations were radiating from her middle down to her toes, and she instinctively tilted her pelvis forward, trying to relieve the ache with more pressure.
His lips left hers, traveling down her jaw, while he murmured her name. Olive allowed her head to drop back against the window so his kisses could trail down her neck, and the throbbing between her thighs became even more insistent.
“Olive,” he murmured again. “Aye, lass!”
His brogue vibrated against her skin, and she realized she was panting with need, willing his hands to stray, to cup, to fondle, to—
And then he wasn’t kissing her anymore. He wasn’t even holding her anymore.
He was—magically—on the other side of the settee, reaching for a book, then straightening and flipping through it almost nonchalantly as two older women bustled into the room, chattering away.
With a start, Olive turned enough so—she hoped—it would seem believable she was just staring out the window once more, not at all having been recently ravished.
Moments away from orgasm.
Desperate for more of his kisses.
Falling in love.
Perhaps it worked, because one of the matrons engaged Phineas in discussion about the kind of book she was hoping to find, and he was pleasant enough as he answered her questions, although Olive noticed his voice sounded strained.
And he held the open book in front of his trousers, right at waist height.
The thought she might’ve affected him as much as he’d affected her made her giddy with excitement…or perhaps arousal.
That was the last of the kisses, but only because the two of them didn’t find themselves alone again.
Still, the memory of that desperate embrace kept Olive warm.
More than once, alone in her big bed in the guest hall of Dumpkins Manor, she touched herself and pretended they were his hands on her body.
Tuesday found more forced Mandatory Fun, which led to much good-natured complaining among the guests as their hostess became more and more desperate.
Her activities culminated in a guided tour of the deceased Lord Dumpkins’s collection of taxidermied frogs, and an explanation from Laird Oliphant on how it was possible for their tiny little legs to be strong enough to support the taxidermied elephant’s foot, as well as the methods used to suspend their poor little bodies in the gelatin mimicking the miasma beyond the stars.
It certainly was creative, but Olive couldn’t decide if she was horrified or fascinated. Perhaps a bit of both, and if the slightly green pallor of her fellow guests were any indication, they agreed.
Wednesday afternoon was, thankfully, the scheduled theatricals, and Olive couldn’t think of a single time in her life she’d been grateful for being forced to participate in a theatrical performance, but at least it didn’t involve frogs.
As with the previous Wednesday performances, Miss Julia handed out roles and scripts in the morning, which allowed the participants a few hours to scrounge costumes and work out their scenes.
Thankfully, this week was Romeo and Juliet, which featured mostly men.
The sufficiently waifish Willow was given the role of Juliet, while Hazel played her nurse.
Grateful she hadn’t been cast in this performance, Olive settled into the audience between Ash and Athena, the latter of whom kept her giggling with her bitingly sarcastic commentary. Apparently, Phineas’s sister didn’t have much use for theatricals or Mandatory Fun.
Fortunately, the commentary ceased when Phineas stepped onto the makeshift stage, wearing his kilt, and proceeded to give Mercutio a decidedly Scottish flair.
“If you keep eyeing his legs, dear Olive, your brother is bound to notice.”
Olive leaned closer to her friend and matched her whisper, when she replied, “Do not tell me you can blame me?” Rumors of Athena’s scandalous past had made the rounds. “He has magnificent-looking legs.”
Athena hummed teasingly and jabbed her elbow into Olive’s side. “How do they feel, hmm?”
Feeling the blush begin to climb her cheeks, Olive glanced away from Phineas’s thumb-biting long enough to send her friend a censoring glare. “We have not been alone long enough to find out.”
That set Athena giggling again, and Olive found she didn’t mind being the butt of her friend’s scandalous jokes for a change.
When the laird, who was giving a rather dispassionate performance as Benvolio, encouraged Mercutio and Tybalt—played by a man barely old enough to shave—to put away their swords or find a more private place for their duel, Phineas snarled back in defiance.
It was one of Olive’s favorite lines, and she found herself mouthing it along with the man she was falling in love with.
“Men’s eyes were made to look and let them gaze! I will not budge for no man’s pleasure.”
Olive sighed at the emotion behind the line, and when Phineas turned to find her in the audience and offered her a secret smile, she wondered if he’d heard.
She wondered if he understood the draw behind that line; unlike Athena, Olive had never been able to put aside her cares about what the world thought of her, but with Phineas, she felt as if she might do anything.
Think of the adventures!
Romeo’s entrance was a bit of a stumbling block, but the duel between the beardless lad and Phineas was magnificent.
After his death, the audience gave him a standing ovation, although Olive was certain she wasn’t the only woman standing in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his thighs as his kilt had rucked up on one side.
Yes indeed. There might not have been any kissing, but Wednesday’s theatricals were much more interesting than the previous rainy-day activities.
And then, miracle of miracles, Olive woke Thursday morning to a bit of sun. There were still clouds in the sky, but Lady Dumpkins was determined to make the most use out of the break in the weather. After breakfast, she announced the activity for the day would include a long walk along the river.
Olive sent an excited look toward Phineas, who was dining with his sister, and saw him smile in return.
A walk along the river meant a chance to examine the ruins and dig site! Granted, it would be muddy, but the opportunity was too good to pass up, and Olive knew this was their chance to solve the mystery of the missing sphaera.
And perhaps find herself alone with a handsome Scotsman.