Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror. “The woman is a nightmare, Oliver. She is bored to death, laid up in that bed of hers, and has taken to putting all of her energy into managing my every move—even more than usual. Not to mention the many, many times a day she pulls me into her room to discuss my hopes and dreams for the Season.” She shuddered. “She’s suffocating me. I just needed a little walk, but I have to pass by her room to get to the stairs. I simply couldn’t risk alerting her to my exit, or else she’d call me into her chamber again.” Elizabeth would rather risk her life climbing out of a window than discuss her feelings. Or at least, discuss her feelings with her older siblings.
He knew that Elizabeth had always felt overshadowed by them—even though she had never said as much to him outright. But there was a lot Oliver knew about Elizabeth that she had never spoken. He just wished her feelings toward him were one of those things.
Actually, no. Oliver didn’t wish that. Because even if she did share his feelings, it wouldn’t change his mind about the future. Oliver would never marry. He wasn’t going to marry Elizabeth or any other woman, for that matter.
“I can see how the window was an appealing choice…but not perhaps the safest. If I hadn’t been here to catch you, what would you have done?”
She shrugged a shoulder, a half smile on her mouth. “Why should I waste my time with what if’s? You were here and that’s all that matters.” Her eyes held to his, a secret message that either read as thankful or annoyed flashing through her sky blue irises. “You’re always there to catch me,” she said in a frosty tone. Annoyed, then.
Suddenly a voice called from the window above them, drawing their eyes up to Lord Robert Hatley, who was leaning out. “Elizabeth, did you climb out of this window?”
A pause. “Yes.”
Hatley let out a short laugh and shook his head lightly. “Of course you did. Well, get back in here because I will not let you leave me to fend for myself with your sister.” In any other noble family, Elizabeth would have been scolded, punished, and caged until she could learn to act as a proper society lady for ever doing something so reckless as climbing from a window. But Oliver had learned from a young age that Elizabeth’s family was quite unlike any other.
“Is Lady Hatley truly that miserable to be around in her state?” Oliver asked, looking back and forth between Elizabeth and Hatley.
Even from the ground Oliver was able to see the flat look Hatley was giving him. “She’s insisting that I try on every single outfit I own, inspect each one from head to toe, and purge the things that are out of fashion.”
Oliver let out a laugh, imagining his stoic friend parading around his room for Lady Hatley to judge. “Is it too late to cast my vote? I’ve been itching to burn that grey waistcoat of yours for at least five years now.”
“I was going to invite you to stay for dinner, but now I think I’ll let you starve,” said Hatley. He pointed at Elizabeth. “Back inside in five minutes, Miss Escape Artist. But leave the imp outside.” Hatley disappeared back into the house and pulled the makeshift ladder back in with him before shutting the window. Apparently, he didn’t trust Elizabeth to not re-enter the house the same way she left it. Smart man.
Oliver rested his eyes again on Elizabeth. She had a way of smiling that made it impossible for him to not return it. “Are you coming in?” she asked, gesturing with her thumb toward the front of the house.
“Didn’t you hear Hatley? I’m banned from admittance.”
“You know, I do have a bit of pull with him. Or perhaps we could simply lie and say that I was attacked by footpads and you fought them off. He will be honor-bound to give you dinner then.”
Oliver chuckled. “No sense risking the goodness of your soul for my benefit. I was planning on dining at White’s before I made my way to Almack’s anyway. I only stopped by to see how you are settling in.”
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“I’m pleased you did.” She held a soft smile for a moment before it changed into mischievous. “But only because I would have fallen to my death had you not. It has nothing to do with being pleased to see you.”
He laughed. “Of course not.” But inwardly, he wondered if there was some truth to her words. Did she only view him as she would an older brother, always around to protect her and help her down from walls, apple trees, old ruins, and other obstacles of great height?
Oliver peeked around the corner to make sure no one would spot them before exiting the alley together. His steps slowed as they approached the door. He didn’t want to leave Elizabeth—a recurring theme of the past few years. And that was precisely why he had to go.
They said their goodbyes but, before they parted, Elizabeth turned back. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Since Mary is sentenced to her bed, she can no longer act as my chaperone for the Season.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “And you’re happy about this because you’ve finally found a way out of having to endure a Season?” Most of her life, Elizabeth had grumbled and complained at the thought of having to come to London for the Season. Adventure and freedom meant more to Elizabeth than fine gowns and stuffy ballrooms.
Her face didn’t brighten like he had anticipated. Instead she looked toward her slippers and fidgeted a bit with her skirts. “I do not feel that way anymore, Oliver.” Her eyes darted back up to his—something like uncertainty in their depths. “I fully intend to enjoy my come out, and…hopefully even make a match.”
“Good,” he said in a tone that sounded odd even to him. He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say, or why her eyes seemed to challenge him. “So is the duchess coming to Town after all?”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head lightly, loose blonde curls that had slipped from her pins bouncing around her face. “Kate is still ill. And you know how dreadful Kate is when she is ailing. Mama cannot leave her.”
“And yet you still look happy after all of this rather depressing news.”
“That’s because the solution is going to be much more entertaining.”
“Oh?”
Her eyebrows lifted and lowered. “Rose and Carver are returning to Town early to act as my chaperones.”
For a moment, Oliver couldn’t say anything. His mind was too busy racing with images of Rose—Kensworth’s new bride, who was also a newly rehabilitated con woman—returning to London in the new role of countess. Elizabeth was correct—it was most definitely going to be entertaining. And then he thought of Elizabeth and Rose living under the same roof together and he couldn’t help but laugh.