“Did my lock of hair help you to remember me?”
Damon’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and he smiled uncomfortably. “We had best rejoin the others now. We have been gone a long while.”
Damon stood and held out his hand to assist me from my seat on the boulder.
I placed my hand in his, and without a glove, our skin touched. His hand was warm, his palms rough, his grip strong. My half boots slipped in the slick soil, and Damon’s arm came around my waist.
I looked up at him through my lashes.
Damon loosened his hold, testing my balance. “Can you stand?”
I nodded, and he released me to retrieve my gloves, but in truth, I was more than a little off-balance and not because of the soggy soil.
We started back toward the picnic in silence. It was as if my life’s entire foundation had been upturned one stone at a time. Everything I thought I knew was now opposite. Damon was not the villain I’d made him out to be. He maybe even cared for me, or at least, he had when we were children. And Ollie did not care for Miss Digby as I’d worried, but he was trapped by his circumstance.
We werealltrapped by our circumstances.
When we came upon the path that led back to the old oak tree, I stopped walking. “I think I will walk back to the house,” I told Damon.
He studied me as if looking for injury. “Is something the matter?”
“I am well,” I said. “I just have no interest in providing any further entertainment for Ollie or Miss Digby today. Will you please tell the company I have a headache and have gone to lie down?”
“May I see you safely back to the manor first?”
“That is gentlemanly of you, but I prefer to walk on my own just now.”
Damon glanced uneasily toward the manor, but he seemed to understand I wasn’t voicing my opinion but rather my decision, because he didn’t follow me when I turned and walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
When the first glimpses ofdaylight lit my bedchamber, I sat up in bed.
Yesterday, I’d been angry that Ollie had chosen to court Miss Digby instead of me and for caring more about what Society thought of him than what I thought, but what if he didn’t realize he even had a choice?
I’d come to Summerhaven expecting us to pick up where we’d left off, but we’d not spoken of our feelings for many years. Perhaps he wasn’t certain I still loved him. But if hedidknow the feelings of my heart and that I didn’t care about wealth or status or about anything but being with him, perhaps he would marry me.
It would be a sacrifice in some ways, but true loverequiredsacrifice. Mama had sacrificed a life of luxury to marry Papa, and they had been happy. It stood to reason that so, too, could Ollie and me.
The thought of confessing my affection for him made me feel like a tree without leaves, naked and exposed, but it was the only way. The time for games and subtleties had passed; if I wanted Ollie to choose me, then first, he needed to know that I chose him.
When Nora at last entered my bedchamber, the sky was still dark; the sun had risen some time ago, but clouds hung low, blocking out any light. How I missed the warmth of the summer sun.
Nora helped me into a blue dress (Ollie’s favorite), and then she styled my curls into a loose plait (my favorite). I dabbed a bit of rose water onto my wrists and neck, pinched a little color into my cheeks, then stood from the vanity with determination.
As I walked down the long corridor toward the grand staircase, I wondered if Damon would also be downstairs this morning or if he would already be out riding Ares. A sudden urge to ride the hills with him flitted through me. Perhaps I could delay my conversation with Ollie until after I’d ridden with Damon. Perhaps I could get him to tell me more about—no. What was I thinking? I didn’t want to ride with Damon. He was irritating and proud, and even though we’d hadsomegood experiences together this summer, it wasOllieI wished to spend time with. It was Ollie I cared for. And Ollie I needed to speak with this morning. Not Damon. I’d loved Ollie since I was a young girl, and it was time to make my feelings known to him.
I found him in the morning room, sitting on a sofa by the window, readingTheMorning Post. An image came into my mind of the two of us sitting close together and reading the newspaper. He would take the political section, and I would read current events or perhaps the other way around. It didn’t matter, so long as we were together. I just had to convince him.
I straightened my posture. This was it. This was the day my life would change forever. Pulse pounding, I stepped into the room.
Ollie looked up from his paper. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I said, but that wasallI said. How did one bring up the feelings of one’s heart?
“I would have thought that after such a sudden and terrible headache yesterday you would have slept later.”
“Headache?” I asked.
