Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Warren held open the terrace door for Olivia. Relying on his instincts, he’d made a bargain he hoped he wouldn’t regret. There would be time later to worry about their future, but for now, he would bask in the glory of winning some time alone with Olivia.
Sensing she needed to escape the morning room and some distance from the others and him, Warren took his time closing the door and motioned to Anne to continue to distract Lady Charlotte and his mama.
He followed behind Olivia through the gardens, admiring her silhouette and the slight tilt of her head as she stopped to study the neatly shaped manicured hedges.
The magnetic pull she had upon him was far too hard to resist, and he strode forward until he stood next to her. “Beautiful, is it not?”
“If your skilled gardeners had left it alone, would you not consider it appealing?”
He turned to carefully examine the hedges. “Are you suggesting that in its natural form it would hold more appeal?”
Olivia sighed. “I had forgotten your tendency to answer my questions with one of your own.”
“Did you find me tiresome? Is that why you have avoided me all these years?” The questions continued to roll off his tongue before he could catch himself. Ugh. He sounded as if he was deaf to her complaint.
Confirming his thoughts, Olivia continued down the path without a word.
Her fingers interlaced behind her back. What would it take for her to take his hand in hers?
Lengthening his stride, he caught up to her.
After a few more measured steps, he answered, “Regardless of whether its appearance is transformed or not, it’s still a living, breathing, ever-changing organism. ”
“So, you don’t place much weight on appearances?”
“Of course not.”
His gaze drawn to her, he nearly tripped as they rounded the corner.
Olivia’s arm was extended as if she would brace his fall.
The corner of his lips curved into a smirk that felt vaguely familiar from his childhood, far from the stiff, forced smiles that formed in the company of ladies of the ton.
A warmth blanketed his heart and solidified his decision.
There was no other woman for him, only Olivia.
Olivia stopped at the center fountain, removed her glove, and dipped her fingertips into what he guessed had to be frigid water. She whirled it about and flicked the droplets at him. “Do you remember anything at all about me?”
His heart crumpled inside his chest as he answered, “Unfortunately, no.” He reached out to cup her cheek and was pleasantly surprised when she did not back away from him. “Is that relief I see in your eyes?”
Brows knitted and lips pursed, she glared up at him.
“Hmm, now you appear vexed. Did I guess wrong?” He knew he hadn’t, but he wanted her smile to return. His thumb stroked her smooth yet now flushed skin. “Tell me. Were we boon companions, ones who would playfully splash one another without hesitation?”
“No. We were definitely not close.” Olivia shook her head, dislodging his touch. She turned her back to him. “In fact, you were rather distant, and rightfully so. You were the heir, and I was the daughter of a kitchen maid. We never really spoke to one another until that day.”
“What exactly happened that day?” He held his breath. After ten long years, he might finally be able to discover the truth of the events that led to his memory loss.
“I’m sure your mama knows and told you what occurred.” She paused, brows raised nearly up to her hairline. When he shrugged, she shook her head once more. “You fell ill. You came down with a fever.”
“And?” he prompted.
“And we left.”
“And who exactly are you referring to when you say we?”
“My mama, Ian, his papa, and me.”
“Ian? The footman.” A blaze of jealousy hit him. Was she in love with the damned footman? He couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name again even in his own mind.
“Well, Ian wasn’t a footman back then.” Olivia’s gaze had dropped to the ground.
Despite her obvious discomfort, he wanted…
no, he needed to know the truth. “I wouldn’t have gifted you my signet ring for naught.
There must be more you are not telling me.
” After silently counting to ten, he released a sigh.
“If there is no more for you to share, then I see no reason not to agree to let the past be the past and forget the events that transpired. I shall look forward to spending every moment courting you over the next nine days and then forever after we are married.”
Her hands shot to hips, and her gaze pinned him to the spot.
“The fever must have made you daft.” She reached out and grabbed his hand.
A second later, she had turned him to face the fountain once more and tugged him lower until he was bent at the waist. This time, she scooped up a handful of water and splashed it in his face.
“Bloody hell, Olivia!” he sputtered as he shook his head.
“Remember now?” she asked, releasing his arm.
He blinked to see her face mottled with splotches of pink.
The woman was mad, hopping mad, at him. “I fail to see how splashing me with icy water will help me recall memories I’ve not been able to recall for…
” A shiver ran down his spine as deep cold settled in his chest and an image of him heaving for air flashed before him.
He grabbed Olivia by the shoulders. “The pond.”
He held her gaze that was filled with fear, but why? Warren closed his eyes, hoping to recall more, but all he saw was blackness.
When Olivia’s shoulders sagged, he opened his eyes to be met with sad brown eyes. “I can’t remember, but if I’m interpreting your features correctly, I must have been in danger, and the only reasonable explanation for why you wore my most prized possession for a decade was because you saved me.”
“I saved you so you could live.” She tried to back away from him.
“To live and become the Viscount of Guernsey. Not to waste your life searching for me.” Olivia took a determined step back, dislodging his hold on her.
“And definitely not to be looked down upon by your peers for marrying a bloody maid!”
Why was she so hopping mad? Warren stepped forward, as if she might disappear if she wasn’t within reach. “I seriously doubt I gave a fig about what others thought of me before I came down with a fever, and I still don’t.”
“I know that. But…” Olivia sat on the edge of the fountain and clasped her hands in her lap.
He knelt next to her. “But what?” As the question slipped through his lips, he wanted to smack his own head.
Why did he rattle off query after query?
His mama would say it was a sign of intelligence, but Olivia’s frustrated gaze would say otherwise.
Fortified by a deep breath, he added, “I’m clever but not so wise as to know what is troubling you. Please, tell me.”
“I can’t marry you.”
The words cut through him, and he fell back onto his arse.
“I’m sorry.” Olivia stood and held out her hand to assist him to his feet. She must think him a damned fool if she believed he’d give up that easily.
He took her hand and pulled her down to him.
Taken off guard, she tumbled forward, and as he hoped, she landed upon his chest. He secured her, wrapping his arms about her.
The question, what are you sorry for, threatened to tumble from him, but he caught himself and instead, he said, “I can’t let you go. Not again.”
“Why?” Her voice trembled, and he stroked her back.
“Because I’m like a ship at sea without a captain when you are not with me.”
She lifted her head up to peer at him. “Hmph, now you resort to a pretty line of poetry rather than a question.”
“It’s the truth.” He wanted to remain right where he was with Olivia in his arms but the more she wiggled, the more tempted he was to act upon his baser instincts.
Unfortunately, he was not a rogue. Still reluctant to fully let her go, he rolled them both on to their sides.
Face-to-face, he added, “I won’t claim to have been a saint over the years.
I’ve entertained my mama’s idea of a match.
However, no lady has ever captured my full attention like you have. ”
“Be honest, you never gave those other ladies a real chance.”
He stared at her clear, intelligent eyes that could make any man’s heart thump hard as if they had run a mile. Volleying between responding with a question or a teasing remark, Warren decided upon the latter. “So, you have been keeping tabs on me.”
Her gaze lowered to his chest as she answered, “Not exactly.”
“Will you give me a fair chance?”
“Why must you be so… so different from your peers, so single-minded, so…” Olivia pushed herself up. She glared down at him and added, “so bloody stubborn!”
Egad, she was as beautiful flustered as she was relaxed in his arms. Warren couldn’t help but grin, which he masked as he rolled to his feet and held out a hand for her. “It is those exact traits that draw you to me, and me to you.”
With a defeated sigh, Olivia placed her hand in his, and he hauled her up and once again close enough for him to wrap an arm about his waist. Surprisingly, she leaned into him slightly. “I’m not like the others. You don’t fool me. I know you are a rogue. A wolf in sheep's clothing.”
“Oh, you are certainly unlike any other woman.” He pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear.
“You are brave. You are as single-minded as I am, and if you allow yourself, you will become the Viscountess of Guernsey.” As soon as he uttered the honorific, he felt the weight on her shoulders shift her mood, and he wished he could instantly retract his words.
How damn insensitive of him. Ugh. He could be a bloody idiot at times.
Rather than push him away, Olivia remained close, and he dared not to move in case he messed up.
Wanting to comfort her, he glanced down at her and sensed she was deep in thought.
Would she reject him again? Taking advantage of the time she allowed him to be close, he closed his eyes as he rested his chin on top of her head and continued to wait.
He was in no rush to return her to the care of Lady Charlotte.
The brush of Olivia’s cheek against his chest had him straightening.
She lifted her chin and stared directly up at him with clear, thankfully moisture-free, eyes. “I suppose our choices are that we either continue to argue the issue every day for the next nine days or we simply agree to enjoy one another's company minus any discussion about marriage.”
“Before we decide upon that, I want to know more about that day and the pond.”
“You are tenacious.”
“Ooh, that is new.” He liked the fact she was describing him in more ways than one.
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment,” Olivia said but this time with a smile. She turned and led him to sit upon the bench facing the fountain. “The short version is you fell into the icy pond, and I jumped in and hauled you out. You became feverish, and we were forced to relocate.”
“You were blamed for my foolishness?”
“Again with the questions, and no, I wasn’t blamed for your fall.” She shifted to face him. “Your father knew you far better than you think.”
He blinked and repeated, “My father?”
“Yes, the man who you once believed favored Ian over you.”
Warren frowned. “I’ve always been jealous of Ian?”
“Your father proved you were wrong. He banished us and sent us packing.”
“I’m not following.”
“Knowing your disposition, your father sent me packing because he believed you would do exactly what you are doing now, making absurd promises despite your obligations as a lord, as a peer, as a member of the ton.”
“You know those are all one and the same.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware. Regardless, that is why your father wove a blanket of lies. Lies he believed would protect you. Prevent you from doing something as foolish as befriending a member of the household staff. He did it for your own good.” With each sentence, her voice escalated.
He shook his head, and in all seriousness said, “That, my dear, is incorrect. My father was a narcissist. He only acted in his own best interest.”
Olivia’s frown took him aback for a moment. She searched his face and then rolled her eyes heavenward. “You really didn’t know your father well, did you?”
“And you did?” The question only solidified the invisible wall Olivia was erecting between them. He needed to redirect the conversation. “Suppose you are right. Why did you continue to avoid me after his death?”
“Because I wasn’t about to go against a dead man’s wishes. What good would have come if you’d found me a day, a week, a month, or even a year earlier?”
“You truly don’t believe I'd be a good husband to you.” The crack in his voice couldn’t be masked. She was rejecting him wholeheartedly, and he was at a loss as to how to convince her that every fiber of him needed her.
“You will make a fine husband.” Olivia bowed her head. “For a lady.”
She had made her position clear, and there was naught he could do to change her mind at the moment. He was stubborn, and he was determined. Much like in a game of chess, sometimes the best strategy was to retreat and reevaluate. He stood and offered his arm. “Shall we return?”
Slow to stand, Olivia slipped her arm through his and allowed him to escort her back. The heavy silence that hung between them spurred him to find a solution. Once he fulfilled his side of their bargain, he was certain his mama and Anne would assist him in winning Olivia’s hand.