He wanted to groan. Would everyone stop trying to suss out his emotional scars? He flashed his best smile—the smile of a man who was eternally smiling. “Wonderful! And you? Are you adjusting well to the life of a countess?”
She laughed as she reached the bottom floor. “Let’s just say, it’s a rather good thing that I’m a fabulous actress. Carver, however, is not, and is eagerly counting down the days until the Season is over and we can once again escape the eyes of the ton and return to Hopewood.” Oliver could well understand. The orphanage Rose had founded, and where she and Carver had decided to make their home, was lovely. It was tucked back into the country where rules and propriety and changing your wardrobe four times a day couldn’t reach.
Oliver was aware of a sudden jealousy prickling him. Is that what he wanted? He had always assumed Town life was for him. But there was a quiet longing inside him for something he knew he couldn’t have. Honestly, the more time he spent in London, the more he tired of it—all of it. The balls, the flirtations, the debutantes, the keeping up of appearances. He even tired of the man he was when he was in Town. Was Robert's assessment of him correct? Was this man he had become not his true self? Did he even know who he was apart from his father and London and the Ashburns?
His heart pulled to Elizabeth again and knew that the only times he had ever felt truly comfortable had been when he was walking with her through the grounds of Dalton Park.
“Well, I must be off. I’ll see myself out,” he said with a brief bow to Rose and turned toward the door, eager to escape all of these depressing feelings.
“You don’t wish to wait until Elizabeth returns from her drive and see how things went?” asked Rose, her amber eyes holding an odd glint.
Oliver paused with his hand on the door knob. “Her drive?”
Rose gave a soft sweet smile that could only mean she had ulterior motives. “Yes. She left about a quarter hour ago with Lord Hastings for a drive through the park.”
He turned around and walked back toward Rose. “The park, you say? And…would that happen to be Hyde Park?”
Rose studied his face a moment. “Yes,” she said slowly. “But you wouldn’t be asking because you plan to go to the Park and check up on her, would you?”
Oliver frowned deeply. “No. That doesn’t sound like me in the least.” He was backing toward the door.
“Oliver, I’m happy to wait with you in the drawing room for her return where then you may ask her about her afternoon. But Elizabeth deserves to go on a drive with a gentleman without your interference.” Apparently, her scheme was not unfolding in the way she had hoped.
He opened the door. “Of course she does. I’d never dream of interfering.”
Rose followed him out the door. “You’re not going to the Park, are you?” Her voice sounded as if she already knew her answer.
“Definitely not.” He definitely was.
“I don’t believe you,” Rose called out, though he was already down the steps and mounting his horse.
“Good. You shouldn’t!”
He heard her puff out air and saw defeat in her slumped shoulders. “I would shoot you in the leg to stop you if Carver hadn’t taken my blasted pistol away.”
“Remind me to give him an extra gift at Christmas,” said Oliver with a smile and a tip of his hat.
He wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once he arrived at Hyde Park. He really should be keeping his distance. But knowing Elizabeth was enjoying an afternoon with another man blinded the rational, thinking portion of his mind.
Chapter Sixteen
Lord Hastings really was a handsome man. Sitting beside him in his curricle as they moved at a sedate pace through the park gave Elizabeth the opportunity to admire his short, honey brown hair and chiseled jawline. And although he didn’t seem to talk overly much, he made everything he said count.
For instance, a moment ago—before the large span of silence they were now enjoying—he had said that he preferred Town life to the country because there was so much more entertainment offered. Elizabeth had been able to gather from that statement that Lord Hastings was not an outdoor enthusiast and that he had likely never stepped foot outdoors in the country or else he would have known that country life held much more appeal than London, with its fetid air, no matter the entertainment available.
“Do you enjoy riding?” she asked, hoping to both find a mutual hobby and fill the seemingly never-ending silence.
“I do.” Oh. There. Something they could agree on. “But only when I absolutely must. Otherwise I prefer to drive my curricle or ride in a carriage. Not as much road dust or horse hair spoiling my breeches makes a little less work for my valet.”
Oh.
Well, never mind if he was a bit…dull. And it actually showed a kindness in him to be aware of the workload he put on his servants. She simply needed to focus on the good in Lord Hastings and not allow Oliver’s obnoxious assessment of the viscount to cloud her judgment.
“What about you? Do you ride often?” he asked.
“Oh, yes! As often as time and circumstance allow. Obviously, here in Town I am not given much opportunity to ride but, back home at Dalton Park, I ride nearly every day.”
His brows raised a little. “Every day? Well, I suppose it is excellent exercise.”