Oliver steered Lisbeth away once his aunt was happily sipping punch.
“I’m so sorry about all that,” he said as soon as they were alone.
“She is charming. I wish I had an aunt like her. It is obvious she adores you.”
“She is dear to me, and I confess I worry over her health.”
“Because then you’ll be alone? You won’t be, you know. You have friends who care about you.”
He raised a brow.What did she mean by that? Did that include her?He wanted to believe that what they had between them was more than passion, more than anarrangement. He had avoided thinking about the end of the season, their so-calledagreement about the wagers, and what it would mean when it all ended. Could he hope that she meant something else? That she cared?
She looked away, playing with an earring. When she looked back at him, he paused. The question he really wanted to ask stuck on the tip of his tongue.Do you care for me, Lisbeth?
Her expression was guarded, unreadable. Her Black Raven mask firmly in place, only he knew the woman underneath. Could he be mistaken in how she felt about him? He wouldn’t accept that she felt nothing. He wouldn’t accept that she would simply walk away from him at the end of this blasted season.
His heart dropped at the possibility he was yearning for something that could never be. He wanted to say,what if I want more. What if I want forever?
But he couldn’t.
Instead he kissed her and wished for the season never to end.
*
Lisbeth spent hertime between Oliver, his aunt, her sister, and her grandmother. All in all, it hadn’t been as bad as she had thought. Her grandmother’s guests were wary but polite and although there was still the occasional whisper and wary look, she was learning to ignore them.
Oliver was entertaining a group of older ladies who had gathered around his aunt. It was pleasing to see him so attentive. When she had first seen him earlier, she’d had the unladylike urge to run across the room, hurl herself into his arms, and kiss him senseless. Such a wanton she had turned out to be! Who would have guessed?
“Lisbeth,” Marie whispered next to her. “You are staring at him again. He is not going to disappear if you pay attention to someone else… like me.”
Lisbeth turned toward her sister. “I’m sorry, Marie.”
Marie steered her over to a corner. “Now you can stare at Bellamy in a less conspicuous way.” They both stared at him. Marie sighed. “He is very handsome.”
“I think I love him,” Lisbeth blurted out. She put her palm over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She looked at Marie. Her hand was over her mouth, too.
Then Marie started giggling. “Well, of course you do. Anyone can see it. He is totally smitten with you, too. He looks at you like you are the most delicious dish on the table and he a starving man. It would be sickening, if it weren’t so romantic.”
Lisbeth turned away from the crowded room. “Oh Lord, what am I going to do?”
“Why, marry him of course!” Marie suggested.
She clutched at her sister’s hand. “I can’t. I mean, he doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Has he told you this?” Marie looked surprised.
Lisbeth closed her eyes briefly. “No, but we have this agreement, although he… it’s complicated.”
“I don’t think so. Have you told him how you feel?” Marie’s face clearly showed her concern.
Lisbeth shook her head. “No! I couldn’t.”
“Why not? Men are simple creatures, Lisbeth. It is best to deal with them directly. Tell him in easy, short sentences that you love him and wish him to marry you.”
Her eyes widened. “And if he says no?”
“He won’t.”
“I can’t.” Lisbeth looked back over at Oliver; he was offering his aunt more sandwiches.
