Chapter 14 #2
She gave him a look. “My conversational skills are just fine, thank you.”
“So says you.”
“No one has ever complained before.”
He began leading her out of the study. “That’s because you’re beautiful. People rarely argue with beautiful people.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “You truly think I’m beautiful?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I always have.”
“I don’t feel beautiful.”
Evander slowed, and his hand shifted slightly, bringing her closer. “Then you haven’t seen the way I look at you. To me, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Her eyes searched his, as if she were looking for the truthfulness of his words. Let her look. He had nothing to hide. Well, almost nothing. There was one truth he hadn’t dared speak. That he loved her. And that truth… he kept buried.
Until he was brave enough to tell her the true extent of his feelings.
Olivia’s heart was in a state of disarray as Evander led her to the dining room.
This evening, there had been something unguarded in the way he’d looked at her.
When he said she was beautiful, he had meant it.
She saw it in his eyes, felt it in the warmth behind his words.
And that frightened her more than she cared to admit.
They had always shared honesty. That was the nature of their friendship, but this… this was different. It was fraught with risk.
Could she tell him the truth?
Yes.
It was time for her to be bold.
As he pulled out her chair, she sat down and blurted out, “I have feelings for you.”
Evander froze. “Pardon?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say it like that. She straightened her posture, trying to recover. “I mean… I don’t know precisely what I feel, but I think I have feelings for you.”
He took his seat at the head of the table, his expression guarded. “You think?”
“I do,” she said, quieter now. “But you don’t have to say anything. Truly. Perhaps we should just forget I said anything.”
“I don’t want to forget.”
The sincerity in his voice stilled her breath. Still, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said it. But we’ve always been honest with one another. I didn’t want to stop now.”
“I’m glad you said something.”
Her gaze darted to his. “You are?”
He nodded, slowly. “I have feelings for you as well.”
“You do?” The words were barely above a whisper. “Was it… because of the kiss?”
His eyes darkened with something unreadable. “Yes,” he said. “It was the kiss that did me in.”
Her heart leapt and twisted all at once. “What are we to do now?”
A smile curved his lips—mischievous, familiar. “Well, I daresay we proceed on as we have been, and see if these feelings deepen.”
“That’s… a good plan,” she murmured, trying not to look too giddy.
He picked up his wine glass, adopting a mock-serious tone. “I knew it was inevitable, though. Me being so handsome and all. It was only a matter of time before you fell for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did not fall for you.”
“Your actions say otherwise.” He leaned closer, his voice teasing. “I can see you undressing me with your eyes.”
Her mouth fell open. “I am doing no such thing!”
“You aren’t?” he asked with a playful pout. “Pity.” He winked as a footman stepped forward and placed a basket of warm rolls between them.
“You’re lucky I don’t throw this roll at you,” she said, picking one up.
Evander clicked his tongue. “Threatening bodily harm with bread? Livy, I expected better.”
She took a bite, trying to hide her grin. But then she said, more softly, “Perhaps we should… kiss more?”
He stared back at her, clearly stunned. “Did you just say what I think you said?”
She met his eyes, bold once again. “I did. If we both started feeling something after that kiss, maybe it’s worth exploring further.”
His answering smile was all boyish delight. “You’ll hear no complaints from me. Shall we start now?” He leaned forward eagerly.
She laughed and placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “I think we should wait. For the right moment.”
Evander let out a theatrical sigh. “I do not like that plan.”
“You’ll survive.”
“I suppose,” he grumbled, reclining in his chair. “But the next time we kiss, you should prepare yourself. It will change your world.”
She quirked a brow. “Oh?”
“I’m an excellent kisser,” he said with mock gravity. “If there were an award, I’d win it.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re absurd.”
“We’ve only kissed twice and already you’re smitten. Coincidence? I think not.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you what I was thinking,” she muttered.
His teasing faded as his expression sobered. “No. I’m glad you did.”
Bowls of soup were placed in front of them, steam rising in gentle tendrils. Olivia picked up her spoon but paused.
“What should we talk about now?” she asked.
Evander didn’t answer right away. When he did, his words were firm. “I want to know the real you. Not just what the world sees, but the broken pieces you hide.”
Her hand stilled over the bowl. “You already know everything about me.”
“I doubt that,” he said. “Give me all of you, Livy.”
She lowered her spoon and drew in a breath. “There is something… but it’s rather embarrassing.”
Evander leaned forward. “Now you’ve definitely piqued my curiosity.”
She bit her lower lip. “The truth of the matter was that I was heartbroken when the late Lord Harwood married someone else. That’s when I married Mr. Smith. And we both know how that ended.”
His features softened. “Do you regret not marrying Harwood?”
“I did. For the briefest of time. But now?” She reached for his hand. “I’m glad I didn’t marry Lord Harwood. He wouldn’t have made me happy.”
Evander held her gaze. “So you’re happy now?”
She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I am happy here. With you.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with.”
He chuckled. “That was beautiful. You should write poetry.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Let’s just eat. In silence, if you please.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh, reaching for his spoon. “Fine. But just know, I’m composing a sonnet about our next kiss.”
She rolled her eyes again—but this time, her heart was lighter.
Just as Olivia was reaching for her spoon again, the quiet hush of the dining room was broken by the sound of the door opening.
Gillingham stepped in and bowed. “I apologize for the interruption, but Lord Luca Dexter has requested a moment of your time.”
Evander’s answer was immediate, and uncharacteristically short. “Send him away.”
Before Gillingham could so much as turn, a tall figure entered without invitation. He was striking—dark-haired, well-dressed, and carrying a satchel slung over his shoulder with a casual air that clashed with the intensity in his gaze.
“I assumed you wouldn’t wish to see me,” he said, his voice smooth and self-assured as he approached the end of the table, “but I must speak to you.”
Evander exhaled, slow and annoyed. “Very well. What is it that you want?”
Lord Luca shifted his attention to Olivia and bowed. “Your husband seems to have forgotten his manners. I am Lord Luca Dexter.”
“As have you,” Olivia replied. “You were not invited into my dining room.”
“I assure you that you will want to hear this.”
Olivia inclined her head, offering him a polite smile even as her instincts told her to be cautious. “Very well, my lord. Would you care to join us—”
“No,” Evander cut in sharply. “Lord Luca will not be staying long.”
Her brows lifted. That tone from Evander—cold, clipped—was rare. Even more so in front of company.
Lord Luca didn’t seem the least bit bothered. A slow smile crept across his face. “That is true,” he said, eyes on Evander. “But your response was rather harsh.”
Evander wasn’t amused. “Just tell us what you want and be done with it.”
The humor dropped instantly from Lord Luca’s face, and the air in the room shifted with it. “I heard someone threw a rock at your father and knocked him unconscious.”
Evander narrowed his eyes. “How in the blazes did you know that?”
“It’s my job to know such things,” Lord Luca replied, already pulling something from his satchel. “That’s why I’m here. The same thing happened to Lord Lancaster. He was threatened so persistently he had no choice but to sell his indigo plantation.”
He withdrew a folded paper and offered it to Evander, but Olivia saw that he was watching both of them now, gauging their reactions.
“You’ll never guess who purchased the plantation,” Lord Luca said.
Evander unfolded the page, barely glancing at it before muttering, “Lord Harwood.”
“Yes,” Lord Luca confirmed. “But the purchase was finalized before he died aboard that ship. And the more I dig, the more I suspect his death—and your brother’s—were not accidents. Someone is orchestrating all of this. I can’t say who yet, but I intend to find out.”
“I am not interested in my brother’s death being made a spectacle in your newssheets,” Evander said, his tone curt.
Lord Luca lifted his hands, palms open. “I’m not trying to exploit anyone. I’m trying to uncover the truth. This is bigger than one scandal or one tragedy.”
Evander turned to her then, his expression softening only slightly. “Lord Luca recently purchased The London Gazette.”
Olivia nodded slowly.
“I did,” Lord Luca added, his tone earnest. “But that’s not the only reason I’m here. I truly believe there’s a pattern—one that might place others at risk. I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” Evander snapped. “And I certainly don’t want it. Now, if you would kindly leave so my wife and I can enjoy our dinner.”
For a moment, Lord Luca looked as if he might argue, but then, just as quickly, he bowed.
“My apologies for the intrusion. Good evening.”
As the dining room doors shut behind him, Olivia turned slowly to Evander. “You were rather rude to him.”
Evander’s gaze stayed fixed on his soup. “He was the one who interrupted our dinner.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “But he wasn’t wrong about your brother’s death. You do suspect he was murdered.”
“I do,” Evander admitted, his jaw tight, “but I’m not about to trust a man who writes for the newssheets.”
Olivia lifted her spoon again, then paused. “But does it matter where the truth comes from, as long as it is the truth?”
“It’s not that simple,” he replied. “We don’t know what Lord Luca’s motives are. For all we know, he could be involved.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “All right,” she said, quiet and measured. “I shall drop it.”
“Thank you,” he said, though he didn’t sound entirely relieved.
She dipped her spoon into the soup, but couldn’t quite resist. “Although…”
Evander groaned. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”
“You could have at least heard him out,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “He might know something you haven’t thought of.”
Evander said nothing for a moment. Then, grudgingly, “Perhaps.”
"Now I am done," Olivia said with a gentle smile, letting her tone fall into something teasing and light. “You may eat your soup in peace now.”
Evander gave her a sidelong glance before lifting his spoon. He dipped it into the bowl and took a sip—only to immediately grimace.
“It’s cold now,” he said, his voice flat as he set the spoon back down with a quiet clink against the porcelain.
Olivia didn’t miss the subtle shift in his posture. His shoulders had gone stiff again, and his back was too straight. A dozen questions crowded her mind, but none of them made it to her lips. Should I press him?
“No,” he said, breaking the silence before she could speak.
“No?”
He looked at her then. “I know you,” he said. “And no—I do not want to talk about it. I’d prefer it if you told me about your day.”
The blunt honesty in his words stilled her. He wasn’t dismissing her, not exactly. She could push, certainly. He would let her, if she insisted. But she suspected he needed her silence more than her questions.
She decided to concede. “Very well. I suppose I can manage that.” She waved a hand in front of her. “I woke up this morning to the most obnoxious bird chirping directly at my window. Truly, I think it had a personal vendetta against me.”
That drew the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile—but close.
Encouraged, she went on. “But the highlight of my morning was the war between two squirrels outside my bedchamber window. I think we might be living in disputed squirrel territory.”
Olivia continued talking about her day in great detail, hoping it was the reprieve he needed.