Chapter 5 #2
There was a slight change in Lady Anne’s calm, reserved features, almost as if she might smile, but within the blink of an eye, the woman’s regal and icy demeanor had returned. Is the woman hoping I will make a spectacle of myself?
Ire bristled through Olivia, prompting her to brazenly place her hand upon Warren’s bent arm and to give Lady Anne a wink over her shoulder as she left the trio of ladies.
While her actions had Lady Guernsey’s eyes as wide as saucers, and garnered a smug grin from Lady Charlotte, she hadn’t evoked even the minutest of changed reactions from Lady Anne.
Unlike Olivia’s simmering anger at the sight of another woman on Warren’s arm, Lady Anne appeared unaffected by her actions.
In fact, Olivia found Lady Anne’s gaze scanning the room as if she were searching for someone.
If Lady Anne’s interests don’t lie with Warren, then who?
As they approached the dance floor, Olivia found her earlier courage evaporating with each step she took, and the unkind murmurs of curiosity from other guests continued to gain momentum.
“Would you prefer we take a stroll about the room?”
Up close, Warren was larger than she imagined. She glanced up at the man next to her whose gaze was trained ahead and said, “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He didn’t say another word until they were approaching the terrace doors. “If the guests tonight were as uninterested in the activity of others as they are at the Velvet Hell, we could escape into the gardens. However…”
She stopped in front of the glass doors. “The Velvet Hell. Are you a frequent patron?”
“No, are you?”
“Why would you suggest such a thing?” Her heart skipped a beat as she peered up at Warren, who was looking down at her with eyes filled with curiosity. Why did this man captivate her, even now, as much as he had when they were children?
“According to my mama, you are quite familiar with the establishment.”
“Not in the least. It was happenstance that I was there to assist Lady Guernsey. I’ve only ventured there once.
” She turned to confirm whether the matron and Lady Charlotte’s gaze were still tracking them.
Relief filled her when neither of the ladies was within sight.
Her pace slowed as she mulled over the meaning of his words.
“Were you accompanying your mother that eve? Not possible. Men are not allowed on the women’s side. ”
“I’d wager that anything is plausible at the Velvet Hell.” He paused as if recalling the visit. “You left quite an impression upon my mother.”
Her head snapped back, and she stared up at him. “Me?”
“Yes, you, Miss Olivia.”
She frowned. Is he hinting at my deception, or does he not recognize me as the girl who was once his servant? Olivia searched his features for an answer, but her mind went blank the second her gaze fell upon his slightly parted lips. Heat rose to her cheeks, and she felt flushed all over.
Brows knitted and eyes narrowed, Warren bent his head, closing the space between them. “Oh, dear, you do look parched.” He waved at a footman carrying a salver of glasses of lemonade. As soon as the man came over, he took one and handed it to her.
Olivia accepted the refreshment and lifted it to her lips; all the while, Warren’s gaze was tracking her every move and causing her hands to tremble. This was the reason she had kept her distance all these years. She wasn’t herself when she was in his world.
“Easy,” Warren said as she gulped the sweet, yet tart, beverage.
Olivia’s gaze shifted to the glass panes of the door next to her. The temptation to flee was overwhelming, yet the repercussions of such a hasty act would be irreversible.
In the reflection, she noted Warren had also shifted his gaze. “Etiquette would dictate that we remain in sight.”
“Shame.” The singular word spilled from her, summing up the complex emotions and thoughts that had her at sixes and sevens.
“Indeed, it is.”
He remained stingy with his responses, not that she wished to engage in long conversations with the man who left her tongue-tied and palms sweating.
As the years passed, she’d hoped that the invisible tether he had upon her would fray and someday break, releasing her from the madness of needing to be close to him.
However, as she stood next to him once again, the urge to remain within arm’s length strengthened.
She needed to escape or she may never be rid of the man. “I think it best if I—”
“Tired of me already?”
His roguish tone had her searching Warren's features. Where was the uptight, pompous lord she was expecting? Curiosity piqued, she continued to stare.
“Miss Olivia, if you continue to look at me like that, I might say to hell with etiquette.” He offered his arm for her to take.
With cheeks ablaze, she placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to escort her back to Lady Charlotte, who was flanked by their hosts, the Duke and Duchess of Avondale.
There was no doubt she would be interrogated by Lady Charlotte as soon as an opportunity arose, but what had Olivia squeezing Warren’s arm was the quelling gaze of the duchess directed solely upon Warren.
What could have transpired to cause such a chilling reaction from the duchess, who was renowned for amicability?