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That was true enough. The young woman still held that hungry look in her eyes from that morning, and it was nearly nightfall. She’d caught Oliver at the end of the corridor when he’d first arrived and had quite obviously made her intentions known by alerting him as to where she would be lingering that evening if he wished to join her.

Oliver wasn’t the type of man to ruin a woman—even an innkeeper’s daughter. No matter the social status, consensual kisses were the order of the day. Anything less and anything more was simply not for him. That being said, pursuing a few moments of enjoyment with Hannah Radcliffe wouldn’t be wise.

For him, at least.

“I’m certain if you spoke with her, she’d forget about me altogether,” Oliver said. “And she’d make you forget all about Miss Goller.”

He winked, but George shook his head. “You’re better off having her for yourself.”

Oliver spotted Hannah winking at him before she disappeared in the backroom, and he pulled at his cravat. “Perhaps we should both wait for the house party. There shall be enough women to go around for the two of us.”

“And if there are not?”

“Then we shall have to occupy ourselves with my cousins. They’re always a breath of fresh air.”

Millie Hollis and her sister, Mrs. Helena Vale—who’d recently married Charles Vale—would all be attending the house party, as well. Charles had grown up with Millie and was as close to her as anyone else in his family. She was always a joy to be around, as the two of them were quite similar in temperament and love of frivolity.

“Wesley Prescott shall be in attendance, too,” Oliver continued. “He won’t know many people, so I’m certain he will appreciate whatever companionship we can provide him.”

Mr. Prescott was Millie’s nearest neighbor, so Oliver had grown up knowing the man, as well. He was a serious sort, but respectable all the same.

“Is Miss Hollis pursuing anyone?” George asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

George finally took a swig of his drink, wincing as he swallowed. “She’d be better off not to. Pursuits of love always end in vain. How many women are you planning to pursue?”

“As many as possible.” Oliver grinned. “May as well, while I still can.”

“You still mean to go through with your promise?”

“To my family?”

George nodded, taking another drink and looking more lively than before.

“Of course I do,” Oliver said. “A promise is binding, no matter how much I regret making it.”

He’d sworn to his family that in the new year, after this house party at Bellthorne, he would put in a good-faith effort to finally find a wife. Unfortunately, he had no desire to become leg-shackled. He’d never even met a woman with whom he’d been close to having a desire to spend the rest of his life.

But he knew it was time to settle down—if only so his reputation would not be sullied further. He’d hate to disappoint Mother or ruin his thirteen-year-old sisters’ chances of one day becoming married due to their wayward brother who’d rather kiss and flee than kiss and wed.

“Then why not break it?” George asked. “Or at the very least pretend to accomplish it?”

Now it was Oliver’s turn to scowl. “I hardly think that gentlemanly behavior.”

“And kissing women with no intention of marrying them is?”

Oliver smirked. “Touché. But if a man’s word cannot be trusted, what is he good for?” He took a swig of his own drink. Hannah returned, washing down the bar with more hungry looks in Oliver’s direction.

That was his cue. “I shall keep my word to my family. But until the new year, I shall have as much fun as possible with as many women as possible.” He finished off his drink and stood. “But not with the innkeeper’s daughter. Would you like me to introduce the two of you?”

George kept his eyes on his drink. “No. As you said, there will be enough women to focus on at the house party.”

“That’s the spirit, my good man,” Oliver said, clapping George against the back and causing his drink to slosh a bit over the top. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I should like to ride Atticus once more while there is still light out. Unless you care to join me?”

George groaned. “The only thing worse than a rejected engagement is riding in this terrible cold.”

Oliver laughed, walking away from his sullen friend and passing by the reserved woman. Ensuring her father wasn’t watching, he sent a wink in her direction, and she blushed, though a smile stretched across her lips.