The Langley Sisters Trilogy Boxed Set (16 page)

Will watched as she walked to the railings and looked out at the night sky. She drew in several deep breaths and, to his regret, the laughter in her died.
 

“I can’t remember the last time I did that in company. I should imagine everyone in there will think I am now a trifle queer in the attic. Still,”—she sighed—“I suppose that has its merits, at least then I could wear odd gloves and sing loudly while walking through the village.”

“Not something my heart has ever desired, yet we are all cut from separate cloth, luckily,” Will said, enjoying the fact that she appeared to have dropped all her barriers and was just Olivia; sweet, funny and achingly beautiful. He watched as she lifted one hand and pointed it skywards. He followed the gesture with his eyes and found a bright twinkling star.

“After my parents died I would stand outside late at night after my sisters had gone to bed and look at that star and wish.”

“What did you wish for?”

Will didn’t think she was going to answer him as she fell silent, and when she finally spoke he knew that her barriers were once again firmly in place.

“The usual things a lady asks for, my lord. The latest style of bonnet and gown.”

“I used to wish to see my parents again when I looked up at the sky. Just one more time,” he said. “I would have told them I loved them.”

Her shoulders slumped; telling him her wishes had mirrored his own.

“I would like to say I’m sorry and thank you, Lord Ryder.”

“For what?”

Will studied her delicate silhouette as she continued to look up at the sky.
 

“The apology is for my behavior towards you since your return to Twoaks. I have been churlish and rude and that is not acceptable and for that, I apologize.”

“Why did you feel the need to be churlish and rude, Olivia?”

He moved to stand beside her, his hands next to hers on the rail, shoulders nearly touching.
 

“And thank you for speaking to Major Bruntly in my defense,” she added, ignoring his question as he noticed she did when he asked her something uncomfortable. “Normally, I would not accept another speaking on my behalf, but the major will never listen to the word of a woman, and as I was about to become—”

“Enraged?”

“As good a word as any, my lord,” she acknowledged. “That man is a fool, but not someone I wish to make an enemy of. Well, at least any more of an enemy,” she amended.

“Men do not like to be challenged by women, especially not in something like the Derby.”

She made a little huffing sound.
 

“Men have all the appearance of strength, my lord, yet the male ego is a fragile thing, I fear.”

He laughed at her despondent tone.
 

“Cheer up, Livvy. Not all of us mind a woman dominating them.”

She turned to face him then, and he was subjected to a thorough inspection while he did the same. Her cinnamon eyes seemed almost black out here and her face pale in the moonlight. He wondered if she was cold with so much of her lush bosom exposed. His hands itched to stroke the creamy flesh.
 

“I feel your words have a deeper meaning, my lord, yet I have no wish to delve into what that is; therefore, I shall ask you to escort me back inside.”

“Wise as well as beautiful, Olivia.”

She had been about to turn away yet stopped, once again looking up at him.

“There is no need for empty flattery between us, Lord Ryder. Therefore, save your compliments for the women who seek them.”

Interesting, Will thought. She didn’t like his compliments and he wondered why. “My words to you are never empty flattery, Olivia. I hope you will always remember that fact,” Will said. Giving in to his need to touch her, he ran a finger down the line between her eyes. “You’re frowning again.”

She stilled as his finger touched her mouth and then traced her bottom lip.

“The book of beauty, Miss Olivia Langley, should have been written about you. The curve of your cheek and softness of your lips tempt a man to forget he is a gentleman.” Her eyes fixed on him as Will lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. “The color of your hair resembles my favorite time of day and the depths of your cinnamon eyes urge a man to delve into the secrets you hide deep inside.”
 

“Please, Lord Ryder, you must stop this.”

“Never forget that you are beautiful, Olivia.” Will cupped her face between his hands. “Now, tell me why you felt the need to be churlish and rude to me.”

“Please don’t ask me any more questions, my lord.”

“Will.” He lowered his head. “You once called me Will,” he said against her lips.

“Will,” she whispered.

“Why must I ask you no more questions, Olivia?”

She blinked, her long lashes resting briefly on her cheeks before once again looking at him.

“Because I have no wish to tell you lies.”

“Is the truth so hard to speak?” Will tilted her face up as he spoke.
 

“Yes.”

Unable to resist the lure of her lips, he kissed her. Olivia Langley had always made his head reel and even though only their mouths touched, his body was a furnace in seconds. Sliding one hand down her back, he pulled her in close and the feel of her lush curves pressed against him was sweet torture. The sensual pull tugged him deeper and Will knew that he should stop, aware that at any moment someone could walk through the door and see them. But the need inside him drove him on. She was his, always had been, and now he wanted her to know it, too.

“No!”

“Livvy.” He reached for her as she wrenched from his arms.
 

“I must go, my lord,” she whispered, staggering backwards. “Th—thank you once again, Lord Ryder, for coming to the aid of a… an acquaintance.”

She bobbed a quick curtsy and Will then watched her hasten back through the doors. She was using the term acquaintance to put some distance between them, but it would not work. He wanted Olivia Langley, and she wanted him. The insipid term acquaintance had never been further from his mind.

Livvy managed to slip back inside unnoticed. Searching the room, she found Phoebe at the supper table surrounded by admirers. Joining her, she offered the group a tight smile and then squeezed into the only seat left. Chivalry, it seemed, was long dead, as not one man had bothered to move to accommodate her.

“Try these almond things, Livvy, they’re rather good,” Phoebe said, waving a small square of cake in her face.

“Thank you,” Livvy said, taking it and nibbling on one corner. At least if she was eating she wouldn’t have to converse and she could think about the fact that Will thought the curve of her cheek and softness of her lips could tempt a man to forget he is a gentleman.
 

“Mr. Rutledge has just been telling me he intends to write an ode to my hands, Livvy.”

“Wonderful,” Livvy said, wondering what game Will was playing, if any. Was he really interested in her or just sharpening his skills before going to London to attend the season. After all, he had been in India for five years, and while Livvy understood they did have civilized company, she didn’t think it was quite at the standard that he would find in London.
 

“Apparently, my hands are like silken doves that flutter gracefully when I speak in melodious tones.”

“Melodious tones… you?” Livvy looked at her sister. “You don’t have a melodious bone in your body.”

“Oh, I must protest to that, Miss Langley!” Mr. Rutledge declared, turning his whole body to look at her because his ridiculously high shirt points would not let him turn his neck. “Her every word sounds like the twinkling of a thousand melodious bells.”

Livvy looked at the man. His eyes certainly seemed clear enough so he wasn’t inebriated. Perhaps he was mad?

“A bullfrog is melodious compared to my sister,” Livvy muttered and then crammed the rest of the cake in her mouth because this conversation was ridiculous and she no longer wished to be part of it.

“I’m wounded to the depths of my soul, Mr. Rutledge, that my sister should say such unjust things about me!” Phoebe cried. Livvy, however, merely chewed her food and turned to look at the dancers and there he was.
 

She sighed. Well, really, who wouldn’t when faced with such a man. He was as beautiful to her as he had declared she was to him. He moved with elegance that was solely his, an unconscious grace that drew the eye of every woman. He was partnering the giggling Miss Chillervy, who was doing her best to show him everything she had on offer and Livvy had to admit they looked good together.

“As pale as a dove’s wings, her fingers flutter as though made of silk.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Livvy tried to shut out Mr. Rutledge’s exuberant prose. Miss Chillervy laughed, showing two perfectly-placed dimples as she twirled around Will. Livvy told herself that jealousy was beneath her and just because he had kissed her, that did not mean anything other than a mild flirtation.
 

“Skin like dew drops and voice as sweet as… a…”

“A babbling brook?” Livvy offered, her eyes still on Miss Chillervy.

“See, gentlemen, she does love me!” Phoebe declared.

Stealing another cake off her sister’s plate, Livvy went back to her thoughts. Had Will ever promised her anything? Thinking back, she realized that he had not; in fact, before that kiss they had shared, they had been friends who had enjoyed the occasional light-hearted flirtation. The infatuation had been all on her side. She had fallen in love with him, not he with her. Everything seemed awfully clear to Livvy suddenly. She had thought the sun rose and set with Lord William Ryder and the fault for that had been hers alone.

“May I have this dance, Miss Langley?”

“Thank you, Mr. Oakley,” Livvy said, brushing the crumbs from her hands as she reluctantly climbed to her feet. She would have to think some more about William Ryder, but she would leave that until she climbed into bed later.

Blowing out the candle at midnight, Livvy pulled back the covers and fell onto the mattress, exhausted. She had danced the remainder of the evening away and laughed and chatted with the people of Twoaks. Closing her eyes, her last thoughts were for Will. He had danced with her once more. They had not uttered a word between them, yet his eyes had been on her constantly and left her even more confused as to his intentions. Yawning, she pulled the blankets up to her chin. She really needed to stay away from him, yet how was that possible when everywhere she went, he seemed to be there also? She couldn’t allow herself to be lured close to him again, especially considering that she was a highwaywoman and her family were living a lie, because one thing Livvy knew was that if anyone was to see through her, it would be William Ryder. Closing her eyes, she began to drift off to sleep with the memory of their kiss still lingering on her lips.
 

CHAPTER NINE

“I would venture out if I did not fear that I would be found frozen in an undignified position by a handsome stranger passing by,” Phoebe said, scowling at the windows.

“Yes, because that happens frequently.” Livvy looked up from the letter she was writing.

“Have you no romance or adventure in your sturdy soul, Olivia Langley.”

“One wonders how it would be romantic, being found in an undignified position by the man of your dreams.”

“It’s called extending your mind.” Phoebe snapped. “It’s what forward-thinking people do.”

“Oh, that’s where I’m going wrong then,” Livvy muttered. “My mind is already extended to its fullest.”

Phoebe flounced out of the chair she was currently lounging in, huffing loudly. She then came to look over Bella’s shoulder to see what she was reading.

“I’m forward thinking. Why, just this morning I discussed having boiled mutton or mutton pie with Jenny.” Livvy was subjected to a glower from Phoebe as she finished speaking.
 

“The real problem is, Phoebe, that you have not been showered in compliments and badly-worded prose for days, and you are missing the adulation.”

“I suspect you’re right.” Phoebe sighed, not the least put out that her sister had called her, in a roundabout way, shallow.
 

It had snowed for five days since the Twoaks Assembly when Will had told Livvy that her hair reminded him of his favorite time of the day, and she had thought of him endlessly. In fact, she was sick of him popping into her head when nothing else was occupying it.
 

“I would even find Mrs. Popplehinge’s company stimulating at the moment,” Phoebe added.

The Langley sisters had been inside for most of those five days and nights and were heartily sick of each other’s company. This morning, Livvy had thrown her hairbrush at Phoebe who had come into her room with the sole purpose of irritating her, simply because she was bored.

“I have linens that need mending.”

Snorting, Phoebe said something vile beneath her breath. “At least it will keep me busy, I suppose.”