Chapter Six
Oliver entered his father’s library to find his brother and two brothers-in-law already seated at the table, ready to start their weekly evening of drinks and cards. He walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a glass of Port before joining them.
Nat had suggested that first evening of cards while they were all in deep mourning for Oliver’s father, who had passed in a tragic riding accident the summer after Oliver reached five and twenty.
He argued that they all needed a distraction, and there was nothing untoward about socializing with family.
Though Oliver had been hesitant at first, it turned out to be exactly what he needed.
None of them were gamblers by nature, and so they made their wagers in farthings and halfpennies.
Then, at the end of the night, all the winnings went into the church charity box.
It was just a low-stakes evening of socializing, surrounded by people he loved and trusted.
“What are we playing?” Oliver asked as he took his regular seat at the table.
“Faro?” Grant suggested. When they all nodded in agreement, he set about shuffling and setting up the game.
“I had tea with Lady Sampson and Miss Childs today,” Tim commented from Oliver’s left.
“Oh?” Oliver feigned disinterest. His brother was baiting him; he could hear it in his tone of voice. He was just not sure how or why.
“I found her reading Sir Walter Scott, and then she asked me if I’d finished my business with the blacksmith.”
Oliver let an ungentlemanly phrase slip from his lips.
Nat raised an eyebrow while Grant tipped his head to the side.
Tim, on the other hand, burst into laughter.
When his twin finally regained his composure, he spoke.
“As a clergyman, I should probably lecture you. But I would much rather hear the story which led you to use such language.”
Though he wished to flee the room, there was nowhere he could really hide from the men across from him.
At least not for long. After a long sip of the sweet red liquid in his glass, he explained, “I went into town yesterday to visit the blacksmith.” Three pairs of eyes studied him, but nobody responded.
“It started to pour, and so I ducked into the circulating library. Miss Childs was there with her maid.”
“There is nothing untoward in that,” Nat noted before taking a sip of his own drink.
“So what happened?” Tim asked, prodding Oliver along.
“We had a lovely conversation about our favorite books.” He paused before adding, “She was warm and engaging and entirely different from the woman I interacted with at Lady Sampson’s dinner or at the vicarage.”
“She thought you were Tim.” Nat sounded thoughtful.
Oliver let out a long sigh. “Yes.”
“Did you know from the beginning?” Grant asked as he began to deal out the cards.
“No.” Oliver shook his head. “We had been speaking for at least a quarter of an hour before I even suspected.”
“And you didn’t correct her?” Nat clarified as he accepted his stack of cards. “Once you realized her mistake?”
Oliver ran his hands down his face and slumped back in his chair. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“I suspect you did not want to embarrass her,” Tim spoke while arranging his hand. “But I also think you did not want her to transform back into the young lady who does not seem to like you very much.”
It was both annoying and comforting to have someone who knew him so well. “Correct on both points.”
Grant leaned back in his chair and studied Oliver for a long moment. “What do you plan to do now that you’ve been found out?”
“Run away to the continent and hope I never see her again?” Oliver retorted, only half jesting.
“Fate is rarely that kind,” Tim pointed out. “Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that part of you wants to see her again.”
Oliver chose to ignore his twin’s comment.
In truth, he was not sure how he felt. He did want to see her again, but only if he could be sure to converse with the woman from the circulating library, or behind the pot.
Though that was a story he had yet to tell a single soul.
But Oliver had no desire to spend any more time with the icy debutante.
“I suppose I will need to call on her at Arbor Hill,” Oliver arranged his own cards to avoid looking at his brother as he added, “to apologize.”
“Are you not attending the picnic tomorrow?” Nat asked, “At Aston Lodge?”
Oliver had completely forgotten about the picnic. Nat and Sarah were planning to host most of the neighborhood and several acquaintances who were traveling through the area. “Will she be there?”
“Lady Sampson accepted the invitation and plans to bring her guest along,” Nat confirmed.
“In other words,” Tim spoke up, “you have roughly sixteen hours to come up with a good apology.”
And he would need every minute. He let out a long breath and lifted his cards.
Kitty walked along the edges of the rose garden at Aston Lodge, watching the guests mill about the wilderness beyond the formal gardens.
When Lady Sampson had informed her that they were attending a picnic at Aston Lodge, she had pictured a minor affair with the nearest neighbors.
But when they arrived, she found a large white pavilion with seating for three dozen people.
The hosts had even organized areas for games such as lawn bowls and pall-mall.
She thought she had even seen a stack of battledore paddles, in case anyone wished for that activity.
Though she’d been surprised at the size of the event, it had not been an unpleasant one.
A small gathering meant she would have no choice but to interact with Oliver Linfield.
After all, any neighborhood event was essentially a Linfield family event.
Arbor Hill was the only estate in the immediate vicinity of Whickfield that was not related to the Linfields by either blood or marriage.
But with a larger crowd, she could keep to the edges.
“Miss Childs, do join us,” Miss Brewton called from where several ladies had gathered near the lawn bowls.
Kitty had been surprised to find herself already acquainted with one family in attendance.
Not well, but Mr. and Mrs. Brewton and their daughters lived in London, and Kitty had crossed paths with them from time to time.
“Thank you, but I believe I would rather watch,” Kitty replied.
Lawn bowls could be an enjoyable game with the right players.
But a sedate game with proper young ladies was more likely to lead to boredom than anything else.
That or censure, when Kitty’s inevitable competitive streak made an unfortunate appearance.
“If you are not going to play, would you care to take a turn with me around the gardens?” a deep voice sounded behind her.
Kitty spun around to find herself face-to-face with the one man she had been avoiding.
Her first instinct was to give him the cut direct, but they had an audience.
And he was family to the hosts of the event.
As much as she wanted to, she could not be so rude.
“Of course, Mr. Oliver Linfield.” She made sure to emphasize his Christian name.
After taking his elbow, they strolled a dozen yards along the back of the gardens before he spoke. “I owe you an apology, Miss Childs.”
“Oh, do you?” Kitty feigned ignorance. “It was my understanding that I’ve not seen you since I attended tea at the vicarage.” As he had not been at church to listen to his own brother’s sermon, the previous Saturday had been their last official meeting.
They reached the edge of the garden and turned so they were walking along a copse of trees. Anyone at the picnic could observe them, but they were well out of earshot. “I believe you already know that I was in the circulating library that day.”
“And repairing the wall at Blackthorne Park,” Kitty added.
Mr. Oliver slowed, but did not stop. “It never even occurred to me that you thought I was Tim when you brought the lemonade.”
He sounded sincere, but there was an underlying confession in his words. “But you did know in the circulating library.”
They pulled to a stop. “Not at first.” He looked past her rather than meeting her gaze. “But I own up to the fact I realized before the end of our conversation. I apologize for deceiving you. There was no ill intent meant.”
The polite response would be to accept his apology and move on, but Kitty could not do it. “Why did you not correct me the moment you discovered my mistake?”
Several emotions flitted across his face too fast for her to understand. After several heartbeats, he responded matter-of-factly, “I did not wish to embarrass you. We had been speaking for some time before I even had an inkling that you believed me to be Tim.”
Kitty tensed as she felt a rush of heat building.
She did not even try to keep the edge out of her voice as she replied, “Embarrass me? You think I’m such a wilting flower that I would suffer greatly from such embarrassment?
” Oliver Linfield opened his mouth to reply, but Kitty kept pushing on.
“Or perhaps you find it humorous to play tricks on unsuspecting young women. Lady Sampson has told me of your childhood pranks.”
His posture went rigid, and he spoke slowly, as if explaining something to a child. “Tim and I have not impersonated each other on purpose in years.”
She had pricked something in him; of that she could be sure. A guilty conscience, perhaps? “So you say.”
For a moment, Kitty thought the man was going to walk away and leave her standing by herself. Instead, he turned back and took a half-step closer. “Do you want to know the truth, Miss Childs?”
She took a small step of her own and looked him square in the eyes. “Tell me.”
“I did not correct you because I was curious to see the version of you I’d heard so much about.
The young woman with a quick wit and a friendly smile, who is a pleasure to converse with.
” He leaned so close that she could see the flecks of green in his otherwise golden-brown eyes.
“I’ve only met the woman who sticks her nose in the air and treats me as if I smell unpleasant. ”
“And you have been so welcoming?” Kitty spat back, refusing to concede an inch despite their nearness. “Every time I see you, your face holds a look of polite indifference that makes everyone around you feel as though you want to be anywhere but where you are.”
Oliver’s eyes danced with heat before dropping to her lips.
For a breathless moment, she thought he might lean forward and press his mouth to hers.
But the spell broke, and he continued in a low voice, “You accuse me of being intentionally deceitful, Miss Childs. But I have wondered if you too have an identical twin, because you certainly have two faces.”
“Would you like to join us?” A new voice broke through the haze of their argument. Kitty jumped away from her foe and then turned to find Nathaniel Towne with his brows raised. “The staff have begun setting out the meal.”
“Yes.” Oliver cleared his throat. “Of course. Lead the way.”
Kitty walked alongside the men at a polite distance before reaching the pavilion and turning away to find Lady Sampson.
She found her hostess seated next to Lady Diana, the two women deep in conversation.
Not wanting to interrupt, she pasted on a smile and took her seat.
The only saving grace of the afternoon was that she never once saw Oliver Linfield again.
Two hours later, she climbed into Lady Sampson’s carriage, more than ready to return to Arbor Hill and disappear into her bed chamber. As their conveyance pulled away from Aston Lodge, the baroness spoke, “Care to tell me what happened between you and Oliver?”
She’d hoped nobody had noticed their argument, but she did not appear to be so fortunate. “A slight disagreement, nothing of consequence.”
“Hmm.” The lady studied Kitty for a long moment, but then changed the subject.
Oliver did his best not to watch Catherine Childs as she weaved around the edge of the pavilion and found a seat near his mother and Lady Sampson.
Had that really just happened? He was not sure which worried him more: that he lost his temper, or that he briefly considered pulling her into a passionate embrace.
“Would you mind helping me with something in the house?” Nat asked in a casual tone, but Oliver suspected he was about to be on the receiving end of a brotherly lecture. Better Nat than Sarah, Oliver supposed. Or his mother. He internally cringed at the thought.
Oliver nodded and then followed his brother-in-law down the rose-garden path and through the doors that led into the drawing room.
Once the door was securely closed behind them, Nat turned to face Oliver, his arms crossed. “Care to explain what I just interrupted?”
“Miss Childs and I were having a…” Oliver let out a long breath, “difference of opinion.”
Nat let out an amused scoff. “A ‘difference of opinion?’ When I approached, I was not sure if you were going to throttle Miss Childs, or kiss her.”
Oliver felt the heat climb his neck as he studied his clasped hands. “The former, I assure you.”
After what felt like an eternity, Nat placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and gave him a friendly shove towards the nearest sofa. “Come, tell me what happened.”
Once they were both situated, Oliver began, “I sought Miss Childs out to apologize, but it did not go well.” He then went on to explain her accusations and his ungentlemanly replies. The only part he left out was his inexplicable desire to kiss the maddening woman.
“I believe you owe her another apology,” Nat responded when Oliver finished his story. “But not today. Sarah would skin me alive if I allowed another scene at my picnic.”
“And if I approached Miss Childs within earshot of Lady Sampson and Mother, I would not come off any better,” Oliver agreed. He already worried about what she might have told the two women. The raw truth would be bad enough. He knew he’d behaved terribly.
“I need to rejoin my guests.” Nat stood, with Oliver following close behind. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll make your excuses for you and see that your mother gets home. You can call on Miss Childs in a day or two and make another attempt at an apology.”
Oliver felt the tension leave his shoulders. He would have to face her, but not today. “Thank you, Nat.”
His brother-in-law opened the door, but did not step through. “If you are going to kiss her, apologize first. You are less likely to receive a well-deserved blackened eye.” And with that, he was gone.
Oliver ran both hands down his face before he let out a long breath and fled the room.
Not wanting to be spotted by anyone at the picnic, he slipped down the servants’ stairs and out the kitchen doors.
It was not until he was marching past the pond that sat on the border of Blackthorne Park and Aston Lodge that he realized he’d left his horse in Nat’s stables.