Rose sighed and her shoulders dropped. “It does not matter what I think, Elizabeth.”
“It matters to me.”
Rose gave a soft smile and took Elizabeth’s hand. “I do have thoughts and opinions concerning your new courtship with Lord Hastings. But they don’t have as much to do with the viscount as they do with another man that I know your heart is still attached to. However, I’m not going to tell you all of these opinions because I feel like this is a decision you need to make for yourself. Only you know your heart and what’s right for it, Elizabeth. I trust you to know what’s best for yourself.” It would be the very worst thing to cry in the foyer just before going on a drive with a potential suitor. And yet, tears were beginning to accumulate behind her eyes.
No one had ever put such faith in her before. Well, no one else, except Oliver.
“Thank you, Rose.”
Rose chuckled and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Enough of all that. I suggest you get out of here before you’re made to endure what I am certain is going to be the most insufferable tea with Lady Hoffman and her daughter. I conveniently scheduled their call during the hour that you would be out on your drive.” Those two insufferable ladies were the queens of backhanded compliments. She certainly did not envy Rose. If anything, she loved her all the more for returning to Town and sacrificing the safety and solitude of Havenwood Orphanage to face the claws of the London Tabbies.
Elizabeth kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek. “You are the most wonderful sister in the world.”
“I’ll be sure to inform Mary and Kate of that next time we are all together.” She winked before Elizabeth left the house.
Chapter Fifteen
“Still no new tendré this Season?” asked Kensworth, making Oliver completely miss his shot in the game of billiards they were playing. Oliver looked up from where his stick had just shot right over the top of the ball into the amused eyes of his friend.
Oliver stretched his neck a little to the side. “No. None.” Which wasn’t a lie. His feelings for Elizabeth were not new. “And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from speaking until I’ve finished my shot next time.”
Kensworth pulled a theatrical frown. “Forgive me. How was I to know that question would make you flinch?”
“It wasn’t the question. It was the sound of your voice.”
“And here I was thinking you liked my baritone all this time.” He shook his head. “Ten years of utter lies.”
Oliver forced out a short chuckle but, actually, the statement had hit a little too close to home. He hadn’t exactly been lying to his friend for the past ten years—but he certainly hadn’t been telling him the truth. Not about his father, and not about Elizabeth. It felt as if every single day his feelings for the woman only grew stronger. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist her.
Oliver had been staying away the past week while Elizabeth was at home recovering from her supposed illness. He had been taking great care not to find himself alone with her again by burying himself in social events, paying calls to anyone and everyone he knew in Town, and even joining Kensworth for a round of sparring at Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon. But none of that worked. His mind continued to obsess about how she had reacted to him the last time they had been together and how concerned she had seemed to be about him viewing her as an untamed creature. No matter how he tried to distract himself, his heart continued to find its way back to Elizabeth, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it.
Actually, he did know what he would do. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was going to keep his distance until Elizabeth was married off and then he would have no choice but to swallow his feelings for the rest of his life.
At that moment, Hatley stepped into the room.
“Who’s telling lies?” asked Hatley. He had heard the tail end of their conversation.
Oh, wonderful. That’s exactly what Oliver needed: Mr. Inquisitive on the case.
“Olly. He’s not smitten with my voice anymore,” said Kensworth.
Hatley cracked the barest of smiles and picked up his cue stick. “You two are infantile, I hope you know that.”
“We do,” they both said in unison.
Hatley leaned over and took his shot, sinking two balls into two different pockets. It was absurd how good the man was at everything he did.
“How’s Lady Hatley faring?” asked Oliver.
Robert’s face turned thoughtful. “She’s…as well as can be expected, I suppose.”
“What does that mean?” asked Kensworth, acquiring that edge to his voice he always gained when he feared for one of his family members.
Robert must have heard it, too, because he chuckled. “Easy, Kensworth. Mary’s all right. She’s simply distant in mind. I can see that she’s terrified of what may happen to the baby, but she’s refusing to acknowledge it.” He leaned over and sunk another ball into a pocket. “She’s taken on all sorts of jobs from her bed. Redecorating the drawing room. Ordering a whole new wardrobe for yours truly. Having the staff bring up nearly every serving dish from the pantry to have it inspected for chips and cracks. And, of course, spending lots of time reading to Jane. But never will she even mention the pregnancy or the new baby.” He paused a moment and Oliver could see the way his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the cue stick. “I mentioned the idea of having her redecorate the nursery to make room for the baby and Mary didn’t even acknowledge it. She simply pretended she hadn’t heard me and continued talking about something else.”
“What will you do then?” asked Oliver.
Robert looked at him, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. “No