Her lids lowered, and though she slackened her hold on his hand, she did not release him—not that Oliver would have given up so easily. Not now.
“Your sister told me of your parents’ objections.”
As both of his hands were occupied, Oliver could not give in to the impulse to run them through his hair. He settled for scowling. “Lily is too free with her words.”
Miss Sophie’s expression hardened, her eyes turning to flint. “Do not speak of her in that manner. Lily is a dear young lady, and I find her conversation lively and engaging. Do not curtail it—”
“Peace,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I did not mean to raise your ire.”
She dropped her gaze, and her already pinked cheeks deepened in color. “I apologize, but I do not like hearing her criticized so. Even from you.”
There was something in her tone and words that hinted at their significance. “What are you not telling me?”
That had Miss Sophie meeting his gaze once more. “It’s not my secret to tell.”
Though her answer did not give Oliver any peace on that score, he did not push matters. “So, what did Lily tell you?”
Miss Sophie lifted one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “That our parents have a history—though I surmised that from simply watching them—and that your parents do not wish you and her to associate with my family.”
“An edict Lily began ignoring some days ago, and you had no qualms with that or my own overtures of friendship,” he replied.
“That is hardly the same as courting, Mr. Kingsley.”
Courting. Whereas that word had held a more sedate meaning when referring to Miss Caswell, Oliver’s heart thumped a happy rhythm at hearing it tied to Miss Sophie.
“I readily agree, but although I allowed my parents’ opinions to sway me in the past, I’ve come to understand that I cannot give my heart to a lady simply because my parents wish it.” Holding her gaze, Oliver allowed his heart to push him to greater heights, the growing certainty gleaming in his eyes as he spoke.
Miss Sophie released his hand, walking away from the safety of the tree. Rain pelted down on her as she put space between them. “I have watched your family together, Mr. Kingsley. You do not understand how blessed you are to have such love and support, and I shan’t allow you to risk an irreparable fracture for me. That is too high a price—”
“Nonsense. And come back here or you will catch your death.” Snatching up her hand once more, Oliver dragged her back beneath the canopy.
“We hardly know each other, Mr. Kingsley.”
Oliver fought against the scowl threatening to surface. No wonder Miss Caswell had been so ready to bludgeon him when he was spouting such ridiculous things. Miss Sophie’s dress was not soaked through, but she was wet enough to elicit a few shivers. Though it was uncouth to go about in his shirtsleeves, Oliver shucked his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
“You need your jacket,” she protested.
Oliver rubbed her arms, hoping to warm them more rapidly, though it brought them closer together as well. “I feel no chill with you near.”
Miss Sophie pulled the fabric close and met his gaze with such hope.
“I am willing to try,” he said. “If we cannot overcome this final hurdle, that is one thing. But this is too important to let it slip away.”
Propriety warred with desire, the one warning Oliver to put some space between them while the other begged him to sweep her into his embrace. The former’s voice was little more than a whisper, but the strength of its objections was enough to keep him in check. Miss Sophie deserved gallantry, and he would not rush her.
“Now, you haven’t answered my question,” he whispered. “Will you drive out with me tomorrow? And allow me to escort you to the Nelsons’ ball next week? And spend long stretches by your side and explore all the countryside together? And forgive me for being such a stubborn fool and denying what my heart has wanted since the first time we met five years ago?”
*
“Your question keeps growing.” Sophie attempted to give the tease a lighthearted tone, but her words were breathy.
Lifting her hand to his lips, Mr. Kingsley pressed a kiss to her palm, his eyes closing to savor the touch. His fingers wrapped around hers, closing her hand around that token of affection. Sometime in the past moments, they’d moved closer together, and Sophie felt the brush of his knees as her skirts swallowed his feet.
And yet Mr. Kingsley did not close the distance.
Holding his gaze, Sophie saw the longing there, which stoked her own heart until it blazed like the hottest embers in a fire, and she found her self-control sadly lacking.
Leaning the last few inches, Sophie pressed her lips to his. The shock of her boldness and her first kiss had her pulling back as quickly as she’d advanced. Her cheeks were aflame, and there was no need for Mr. Kingsley’s jacket about her shoulders, for her whole body flushed. By most accounts, the kiss would be counted as little more than a buss, but her heart swelled at the sentiment beneath that quick touch.
