She nodded once. But neither of them moved. Something important had just changed between the both of them.
CHAPTER 19
"Steady on, Oliver!" Alexander called from where he leaned against the ropes of the sparring ring, towel draped around his neck. "Are you trying to knock poor Nicholas out? Save some of him for the rest of us."
Oliver had just ducked under a left jab from Nicholas, his sparring partner for this round, and countered with a swift right to the midsection, pulled at the last instant to avoid truly winding his friend. Even pulled, the blow landed with a satisfying impact, making Nicholas grunt and stagger back a step.
He had decided that a meeting with his dear friends would be the best way to clear his mind after all that clouded it this past week.
Oliver stepped back, lowering his gloved fists to signal a pause. "Fine, let us have a break then."
"Good," Nicholas, red-faced but grinning, raised a hand in acknowledgement that he needed a breather. "You seem to have woken up at the wrong side of bed this morning."
"Forgive me," Oliver said, though a smile tugged at his lips. "I was…distracted."
In truth, he had been channeling all his restless energy into each punch. The events of yesterday's picnic and the emotions stirred there still coursed through him, seeking an outlet.
Peter, who had only been watching on, spoke up.
"Distracted, he says. I'd hate to see you when focused, then. I value my ribs unbroken, thank you."
"I'm fine. Though I'll gladly yield my place to someone fresher." Nicholas waved off the concern, and peeled off his gloves to step out of the ring. "Peter, he's all yours. Do try not to provoke him overly."
Oliver rolled his eyes as he leaned down to swab sweat from his brow with a spare towel.
"You lot are exaggerating. I wasn't hitting that hard."
"You were hitting like he owed you a debt," Alexander quipped, handing Oliver a cup of water. "Might one inquire what fuels such intensity this morning? Or should we chalk it up to newfound marital changes?"
Peter let out a cackle at that, stepping into the ring.
"I told you all, marriage has put fire in his blood." He gave Oliver a wink. "The aloof Duke of Redhaven turned into whatever this is meant to be almost overnight. What else could explain it but the inspiring company of a lovely wife?"
Oliver felt warmth creep up his neck, half from exercise. drained the water and ignored the bait. Stepping back into the center of the ring, he assumed a ready stance.
"I would not say too much if I were you," Oliver countered with ease. He was still not over the annoyance at Peter from earlier.
In earnest, he did not even wish for him to come. But he could not uninvite him at the last minute.
"Come on then, Peter. Let's see if your footwork is as quick as your tongue," he challenged him.
Alexander and Nicholas exchanged amused glances as Peter hopped in place, shaking out his limbs.
"Careful, Morton," Nicholas drawled. "You might not be prepared."
Peter didn't seem perturbed. He raised his fists and began to circle Oliver.
"I fancy my odds. After all, he'd never hit his dear wife's most loyal admirer too hard, would he?" He shot Oliver a mischievous grin.
Oliver narrowed his eyes, tracking Peter's movements. He knew exactly what Peter was about: dangling the topic of Alethea to get a rise out of him. And damn it all, it was working.
At the mere mention of her, an image flashed in Oliver's mind: Alethea dancing with Peter. He had hated the sight then, and it had taken everything inside of him to not go there and separate the two of them. But at the time, he had opted not to make a scene.
Now though, there was not much that was holding him back.
His momentary distraction cost him as Peter darted forward with a combo that clipped Oliver's shoulder and grazed his jaw. It wasn't painful, but it snapped him back to focus. Oliver retaliated with a quick jab that Peter barely dodged.
"There it is," Peter crowed, dancing out of reach. "All I have to do is say ‘wife' and you see red."
