When the first dance came to a close, Oliver led her from the floor. “Would you mind joining me on the veranda?” he whispered. “We could converse more easily away from the crush.”
“Converse? Is that why gentlemen take ladies onto the veranda during a ball?” Kitty grimaced when she realized she’d spoken aloud. At least her mother was across the room conversing with Lady Diana.
“I promise to be on my best behavior.” Oliver’s voice held a touch of amusement. “And to stay within sight of the door.”
After considering for a moment, she claimed his elbow and allowed him to lead her out of the open doors. The cool night air hit them, and she felt as much as heard Oliver take a deep breath. “Do you not enjoy dancing?”
He paused for a moment, as if considering how much to share. “I do not enjoy crowds of people. Particularly strangers.”
“I used to enjoy socializing,” Kitty admitted, surprised at her own forthrightness. “But the last two years have ruined it for me.”
“Your mother’s matchmaking?” Oliver asked in a soft voice.
Kitty nodded as she leaned against the balustrade. After several minutes of listening to the music waft from the house, she spoke again. “There is one saving grace of our feigned courtship.”
“Oh?”
She turned towards Oliver and gave him a wry smile. “I’ve not been introduced to a single dissolute younger son of a viscount since returning to London.”
Oliver chuckled. “Happy to be of service.”
Unwilling to let their escape end, Kitty searched for another topic of conversation. “Are you reading anything of note?”
“Memoirs of the Marquis of Torcy,” he replied, before continuing in an overly serious tone. “It is remarkably dull.”
“Then why read it?”
“I found it in my uncle’s library and wanted to practice my written French,” Oliver explained. “Based on the appearance of the aged leather cover, I think it must have belonged to my grandfather. Or perhaps his father.”
“I have recently had a great deal of time to read, and access only to my father’s London collection,” Kitty admitted. “I’ve read several volumes that would not have been my first choice.”
They spent several minutes discussing the most painful books they’d ever read. Most of Oliver’s examples had been assignments for school, but he’d once read a collection of fifty-year-old political letters on a dare from Tim. Kitty did not have nearly as many examples. She read what she wished and little else. The discussionreminded her of their time in the circulating library in Whickfield. Only this time, there was no confusion as to the identity of the man next to her.
“Besides your library, what do you enjoy?” Kitty asked, wishing to broaden their conversation.
“I enjoy being out of doors,” he explained, “particularly on horseback.”
Before Kitty could ask another question, her mother stepped into the open doorway. Drat, they’d been caught. Kitty met Oliver’s gaze, hoping he would understand her next words. “I too enjoy horses, but my mother does not ride.” She then nodded in farewell and followed her mother back into the ball.
Chapter Nine
Oliverpattedhistrustymount on the shoulder before sliding out of the saddle and onto the road in front of the Childs’ townhouse. After their late night at the ball, everyone had overslept and missed church that morning. But he’d awoken to find a sunny day with only a few clouds in the sky, and he meant to make use of it.
Kitty’s words the night before about how she enjoyed horses, but her mother did not, had repeated through his mind. Though it could have been an offhand comment, he believed she was sending him a message. A way to spend time together without her overbearing mother.
So Oliver had sent a note and then made arrangements with his uncle to borrow a mare and a groom. He would much rather ride across Grant’s back meadows than trot through Hyde Park. But the overcrowded park was his best option at present.
When the footman allowed him entry into the townhouse, he found mother and daughter waiting for him in the drawing room. The latter dressed in a beautiful green riding habit that made her eyes shine. Oliver forced himself to pull away his gaze and address her mother. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Childs. Are you quite certain you will not join us?”
“I’m afraid my riding days are long behind me, young man,” Mrs. Childs replied. Though she feigned a smile, he could hear the underlying tension in her voice. Given her need for attention, she was likely perturbed that they’d found a way to escape her company. “I do hope you’ve brought an appropriate chaperone.”
“My uncle was kind enough to lend me the use of a groom, as well as a mare for Miss Childs,” Oliver replied before turning to his companion for the morning. “He is waiting outside with our mounts, if you are ready.”
“I am.” Miss Childs stood and smoothed her skirts.
Moments later, they stepped out of the front door. When Kitty spotted the horses, she pulled up short and mumbled, “Oh, she’s a beauty.” She then walked slowly towards her borrowed horse, approaching its shoulder at an angle before holding out her hand for the mare to sniff.
Oliver swallowed hard as he watched Kitty patiently wait for the horse to get comfortable with her smell before leaning in to whisper greetings while she gently petted its neck and withers. He could never remember having seen such a beautiful sight.
