A spark lit Miss Sophie’s already bright eyes, and one side of her lips curled upwards. “Better.”
“I am glad I meet with your approval,” he replied with an arched brow.
Miss Sophie’s cheeks pinked, and she shook her head, her gaze dropping. “I do apologize. You must think me terribly forward—”
“I think you engaging and highly entertaining.” Oliver couldn’t say what possessed him to be so frank with the lady, but he felt more at ease with her than he did any other person of his acquaintance outside his family. And though he knew the suddenness of his feelings ought to bother him, Oliver refused to give heed to such worries.
“I simply think it is a waste to restrict yourself to only one county,” she said. “There is so much more to see.”
“Then you are an adventuress?”
Miss Sophie laughed at that. “Hardly. I have never stepped on foreign soil, but I’ve seen a great deal of our gorgeous country. There is so much to see from the sandy shores of Cornwall to the craggy Peak District and even the great mountains of the Highlands. The moors of Devon vary from those of Yorkshire. And there is such a variety of flora and fauna…”
Her words drifted into silence, and Miss Sophie cast a look at Oliver, her features tightening ever so slightly. “I apologize, Mr. Kingsley. I did not mean to ramble on.”
“You weren’t rambling, Miss Sophie, and you have nothing to apologize for. It’s clear you are passionate about the subject.”
Miss Sophie pursed her lips, glancing around them before saying softly, “I adore naturalism, and I cannot help but expound at length about it. The variety of life to be found even in a single village is astounding, and the more I study it, the more awed I am at the complexity of it all. There is something about the forests, fields, rivers, lakes, wildlife, and insects that fills me with such reverence. And yet, at the heart of it, there is so much joy to be found in simply being out in nature.”
Halting once more, Miss Sophie winced. “Please forgive—”
“Nonsense,” Oliver shot back before she could trip over herself to apologize for that which needed no apology. “I adore hearing you speak so passionately.”
“Then you are an anomaly, sir, for I have not met many who care to hear about my studies.”
“And that deserves another ‘nonsense.’ I happen to know several fellows from school who have dedicated their lives to that subject, and you are not the first lady I’ve met who shares that interest. It is an admirable course of study,” he replied, earning another sparkling smile from the young lady.
“For my part,” he continued, “I cannot claim to understand the science behind it, but I appreciate the beauty found in nature. I feel invigorated and yet so at peace when out in the woods. It is difficult to describe…” Oliver’s words drifted off into silence as he struggled to find the right ones.
Miss Sophie paused for only a scarce moment before adding, “It is as though you are unbound and free.”
Oliver’s smile broadened, his eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Precisely.”
The throng around them faded away as he held Miss Sophie’s gaze. Oliver did not think himself a puffed-up fellow, but the manner in which her eyes warmed made him think she also felt that spark of possibility hovering between them.
“Though it is not as fine as that which you find in the countryside, Mackleford Hall boasts lovely gardens,” he began, and Miss Sophie’s gaze brightened further. “I am acquainted with the Sudleys, and I have a standing invitation to tour their gardens at my leisure. Would you accompany me?”
He’d hardly finished speaking before Miss Sophie said, “Yes.” She scrunched her nose, chuckling at herself. “Perhaps I appear too eager, but I cannot feign circumspection when offered such an invitation.”
“Tomorrow afternoon?” Oliver asked, allowing his own eagerness to shine through.
Chapter 3
Hours of dancing into the wee hours and little sleep afterward normally made for a miserable morning, but today, Oliver’s steps were light rather than dragging. He’d attempted to rest more, but it’d been a useless enterprise; there were more important things to do than lounge about in bed.
Giving his hat and gloves to the footman, Oliver examined the nosegay in his hand. As he had no knowledge of flowers, he could not say what they were, though the shopkeeper had insisted they were wildflowers. They were not as fine as those he would’ve liked to purchase, but a bouquet of orchids or roses did not seem right for Miss Sophie.
“Put these in water, William, while I write a note.” And with that, Oliver took the steps two at a time up to his bedchamber.
Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Oliver grinned even further at the sight of the ridiculous smile plastered on his face. Even though he’d managed to slip into bed early this morning, he’d been unable to get more than a couple of hours due to that massive grin and the accompanying memories that inspired it.
Miss Sophie.
Oliver hummed a lively tune as he strode to his desk, but it wasn’t until he sat that he realized the song was from the dance he’d shared with her. Sitting, he pulled out a pen and paper and paused. What did one write in such a note? Nibbling on the end of his pen, Oliver stared at the wallpaper, his eyes not seeing the image before him and his thoughts all too focused on calculating the hours until their outing.
A knock came at his door, and Oliver called out for the knocker to enter, glancing over his shoulder.
“Good morning, Father,” he said.
