Chapter 6 #2
“Ian, is it? How is it that you are on a first-name basis with the staff here?” An irrational lump of jealousy lodged in his chest.
“Do you not remember him?” Olivia straightened and then turned to face him. “Or me?”
He blinked at her twice. “I recognized my signet ring that it appears you no longer wear. But you wore it once, at the Velvet Hell.”
“I surmised that you don’t have any recollection of me or Ian, which is why I’ve chosen to return this to you.” She reached into her skirts and withdrew his signet ring along with the chain that had kept it safely in place about her neck all these years.
He did not want to take it back, but he held out his palm, regardless. The weight of the ring was far greater than he’d anticipated. “I may not recall events as clearly as you, Miss Olivia, but I’ve been searching for you, and now that I’ve found you—”
“I’m no Lady,” Olivia stated plainly and squared her shoulders. “I’m simply Olivia.”
“Very well, I have no objection to calling you by your given name if you agree to do the same.”
“That would be entirely inappropriate.” She lowered her gaze.
He reached out and tipped her chin up so that their gazes met. “Then I formally give you leave to call me Warren, or Guernsey at the very least.”
“Lord Guernsey, allow me to explain.” Olivia took a step backward and began to pace in front of him. “You see, while I was the one who fished you….”
Her worried brow was simultaneously adorable and troublesome. Warren found it hard to focus on her monologue.
She twirled about once more and poked him in the chest. “Are you listening?”
“Of course. Most certainly.” He shrugged. “You saved me. I suffered a fever. You left.”
“Good.” She nodded, and his heart felt like it was about to burst at her praise. With her hands crossed over her chest, she began rocking back and forth from heel to toe. “Then you understand why I should like to return to my position as maid to Lady Charlotte and cease pretending to be a lady.”
“Maid?” he repeated, bamboozled by her words. Seeking clarification, he asked, “You’re Lady Charlotte’s maid?”
“Ugh. Why do men only hear what they want to?” She narrowed her gaze and confirmed, “Yes, I am Lady Charlotte’s maid. And when you regain your memories, you will be grateful to me for setting matters straight.”
“If I did something to offend you when I was young, I apologize.” He couldn’t imagine why he would have been at odds with the female to whom he was inexplicitly drawn, especially as a lad, regardless of her station.
Olivia stared back at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You really don’t recall anything?”
He bristled at the hint that he was a liar, or worse, a fool. “I may not remember you, but I do know myself. And I wouldn't have entrusted my signet ring to another unless it was for good cause. If you saved me as you claim, then I am indebted to you, regardless of if you are a maid or not.”
A bark of laughter that was filled with anything but mirth filled the momentary silence. “Should I remind you how you declared you would repay me?” Olivia tilted her head to one side and then the other, lips partially pursed.
His gaze was immediately drawn to her mouth, which was ripe for a kiss.
Bloody hell. The woman could be weighing up her options and debating whether to blackmail him, for he had absolutely no recollection of the events that had led up to him bestowing what was, at the time, his one and only prized possession.
As if she was sizing him up, she now looked him over from head to toe and back up again.
Before she could answer her own question, Warren said, “Rather than taking the word of a lad, why don’t I simply tell you how I intend to settle my debt?
” He leaned down until their faces were but inches apart, meaning to intimidate the woman.
Except he found himself still mesmerized by her parted pink lips.
As if propelled by an invisible hand, he lowered his mouth to hers and tasted the sweetness of an angel.
A decade of searching had been well worth his time.
Hands pressed to his chest, Olivia gasped for air. He waited for her to push him away or slap him as he so deserved. When she did neither, he rested his forehead upon hers and waited for his own breathing to return to normal.
“Lord Guernsey!” Lady Charlotte admonished as she suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, grabbed his angel, and whisked her out of his reach.
“Lady Charlotte.” Olivia hung on to the countess’s arm. “I beg you…”
The plea fell on deaf ears, as Lady Charlotte said sharply, “You revealed your true identity, didn’t you?”
“I care naught if Olivia is a lady or a maid. She’s the woman I intend to marry.”
His statement drew dagger-filled stares from both ladies.
“It’s not a matter of whether you care; it is a matter of what others believe,” Lady Charlotte replied. “If you were the issue, I would never have placed Olivia in such a predicament.”
“I’ve never paid any mind to the opinions of others,” he rebuked.
“Exactly. You have weathered years of gossip and insinuations and remained relatively unscathed. My concern is for Olivia. If you care for her even the tiniest bit as a person and not as your savior, you will not make light of placing her in such a quandary."
Lady Charlotte had a point. The ton was renowned for being harshest amongst themselves, and ruthless toward outsiders. It made sense to ease Olivia into society.
Olivia released Lady Charlotte and placed herself between them before turning to face him.
“I have no intentions of marrying you, or anyone for that matter. And I certainly won’t agree to be wed out of gratitude or some ridiculous sense of honor.
” She spun around to face Lady Charlotte.
“I’m your maid, and it’s not in my nature to mislead or lie to others. ”
“Oh, I know. I’ve had eyes on you for years.
Your honesty and straightforward manner are truly admirable, but as you have experienced, it doesn’t always result in a happy ending.
” Lady Charlotte took a cautious step closer to Olivia, as if approaching a feral animal.
“I truly believe you are more than worthy of becoming the Viscountess of Guernsey.”
“It’s all good and well that you might think so, but no one has asked me what I want,” Olivia replied.
Bloody hell. He had indeed acted much like his high-handed fellow peers, placing his own wishes before hers. Warren cleared his throat. “Would you be willing to become reacquainted, with the knowledge that I hope to convince you to wed me and become the Viscountess of Guernsey?”
His breath caught in his chest as Olivia turned ever so slowly to face him once more. It seemed an eternity before she answered, “Possibly. As long as there is no deception involved.”