The tension in his shoulders eased. “Shall I remove your hatpin, so we might make another blood oath?”
“There’s no need. We must learn to trust each other.”
Her words stayed with him as he dressed for dinner. Trust. That was the real oath, and far harder to offer than blood. It led him to consider the note left with his gold button:
Judge not the hand that bears the mark,
for it guards thee unawares.
Her father knew his poem would lead her to The Burnished Jade. That Gabriel would be there, and her love of poetry would draw his notice. That a man who had been wounded would seek a woman who understood the nature of betrayal.
There was only one way he could have known Gabriel’s story. He must have heard it from Justin Lovelace. He’d known to include white heather, a symbol of faith and a sign of hope.
Gabriel had never felt more hopeful than when Olivia approached the dining room, dressed in a midnight-blue gown that hugged her figure to perfection.
“A new dress?” he said, his throat tight, scarcely able to look away. In grey, her strength of character shone through. In this, she exuded a soft, feminine allure that made him wonder how easy it was to remove.
“The countess sent a chest of clothes. I can keep them until I have a proper wardrobe of my own.”
“She certainly knows what suits you.” His stomach growled, not from a longing for turtle soup, but from the ache of wanting his wife. It promised to be another long, excruciating night. How long before they found him dead, scratch marks on the door?
“Then you approve?” Her smile could have lit the stars. “I thought you might think she was interfering.”
Approve?One slip in his restraint and he’d be drooling. “On the contrary, I can see you appreciate the gesture. We’ll invite her to dine with us when our troubles are over.”
“Dine here? In this house?”
“I’m more than willing to accommodate trusted friends,” he said, leading her into the dining room. Their meal was already laid, and not a footman in sight. “We’ll serveourselves tonight. I’ve no appetite for servants who sell their souls for a few shillings.”
“Did you discuss the problem with Mrs Boswell?” she asked as he pulled out her chair.
He let his gaze drift over her nape, where fine wisps of copper hair trailed against her skin. “Yes, but it will take time to lure the fox from its den. Gossip passes so freely, it’s hard to trace the source.”
“Mr Daventry says it’s always the person you least expect.”
“It’s not Mrs Boswell.” His tone brooked no argument. He took his seat at the head of the table, steadfast in his conviction.
“I’ve never heard you speak about anyone with such certainty. Though Mrs Boswell is the last person I would suspect, too.”
He poured the wine and served her first. The simple act was strangely intimate, as though every movement declared what he could not say aloud. He’d underestimated how it felt to care for a woman, to serve and yet feel masterful, to find peace in her contentment.
“Tell me a secret you’ve never shared.” She leaned back, the rim of her glass touching her lips, mischief lighting her eyes.
Her playful tone made it impossible to refuse her. “Recently, I tossed a halfpenny into a pond and made a wish. You’ll be the first to know if it comes true.”
“That doesn’t qualify unless you tell me what you wished for.”
“If I do, it may not come true.” Nothing was more important than that one wish now. “Then let me give you another.” He paused, wanting to share something honest. “You makethis house feel like a home. I need you to chase the ghosts from every room.” He raised his glass in salute. “Your turn, Olivia.”
She didn’t sit trawling through memories but seemed to know exactly what she would say. “When my father died, I swore I’d never depend on a man again. It’s a vow I’m slowly breaking.”
He drew a deep breath, her quiet faith hitting him square in the chest.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.
“That if we’d been intimate many times, I’d sit you on the table and show you how dependable I am.”
Colour rose in her cheeks as her fingers toyed with the edge of her neckline. “I suppose the first time shouldn’t be a hurried coupling on the dining table.”
