Page 17 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he drawing room was abuzz with conversation, laughter drifting through the air as the house party guests gathered after the scavenger hunt. Olivia sat near the refreshment table, slowly stirring her tea, though she had long since forgotten to take a sip.
Across the room, Miss Spencer stood close to Lord Cheshire, her fan fluttering in time with her eager words.
“Such an excellent win, my lord,” Miss Spencer purred, tilting her head ever so slightly. “I do wonder how Lady Olivia managed to keep up with you. I should have liked a turn as your partner myself.”
Olivia raised her teacup to her lips, hoping to hide the way her mouth had tightened.
It was ridiculous to feel anything about such a remark. Absurd.
And yet, she had been so focused on their arrangement, so certain that neither of them was in search of a match, that she had never considered that others might be.
A group of young ladies nearby spoke in hushed voices, though not so hushed that Olivia couldn’t overhear.
“He is the only earl among the gentlemen here, after all,” Miss Harper whispered. “If I had been his partner for the scavenger hunt, I should have been engaged to him by now.”
“It is the perfect opportunity to snare an earl, to be sure,” Miss Cox added.
Olivia frowned. To her, he was simply Lord Cheshire, the man who had helped her reclaim her music, who had made her laugh in the midst of her greatest frustrations, who had sat beside her as she sketched in quiet companionship.
Had she truly learned so little about him?
She ought to know more.
Not because she cared, of course. It was merely practical, given their arrangement.
Wasn’t it?
She found Lord Cheshire standing near the windows, his gaze on the dusky sky.
“You have a great many admirers this evening,” she said lightly.
He turned, arching a brow. “Do I? I shudder to think about such things.”
“Oh, indeed. I overheard quite the conversation about the advantages of being your partner for the scavenger hunt and becoming engaged afterwards. Beware, m’lord. They are all calculating and designing.”
His expression twisted into something between amusement and exasperation. “And this was precisely why I sought our arrangement, Lady Olivia.”
Olivia hummed thoughtfully, setting her teacup down. “Perhaps there is a way to profit from this. Perhaps I should begin charging a matchmaking fee. There are at least half a dozen young ladies who would gladly pay to take my place as your partner. I should consider this.” She schooled her features, trying her best to keep a straight face at the absurdity of the suggestion.
Lord Cheshire chuckled, shaking his head. “And would you profit from my misfortune?”
“Well, I must think of my future,” she said with exaggerated innocence. “I do intend to travel, after all. Perhaps matchmaking would be my true calling.”
“I shudder to think of the chaos you would wreak,” he mused.
She tilted her head, a playful smile curving her lips. “And why is that?”
“You would be too clever by half,” he said, stepping just a little closer. “Your matches would be so meticulously arranged that no one would even realize they had been caught in your web until it was too late.”
She let out a soft laugh, the tension that had been forming in her chest easing slightly.
“I assure you, my lord, I am not nearly as cunning as all that.”
“Oh, I believe you are,” he said with a smirk.
For a moment, their eyes met. Her throat became dry. She had intended this conversation to be playful, to lighten her mood after the absurd conversation she had overheard. But standing here now, looking up at him, she felt …
Well.
She was thinking too much. And feeling too much.
She cleared her throat and glanced away. “In any case, you need not fear. Your future is safe from my meddling—for now.”
“That is a relief,” he teased.
But his voice was softer now, and Olivia was suddenly very aware of how close they stood.
Lady Lansdowne’s voice rang across the room, calling attention back to the front.
“I am pleased to announce the winners of our scavenger hunt!” she declared, unfolding a slip of paper. “Lord Cheshire and Lady Olivia!”
There was polite applause as Olivia and Lord Cheshire exchanged a knowing look.
“As a reward for your combined cleverness,” Lady Lansdowne continued, gesturing to a nearby table, “I have selected a pair of decorative objects d’art, chosen for their complementary nature—but each of you shall take only one.”
On the table sat two delicate porcelain figurines—one of a stag, noble and strong, and the other a graceful doe poised as though caught in movement.
Olivia turned to Lord Cheshire, a teasing glint in her eye. “Which shall you take, my lord?”
He studied the figures for a moment, then reached for the stag. “The protector,” he mused, running a thumb along the fine craftsmanship. “It seems fitting.”
Olivia took up the doe, her fingers brushing over the cool porcelain.
“Let us hope the two pieces do not pine for each other,” she said lightly, only half in jest.
Lord Cheshire’s gaze flickered to hers, something unreadable passing through his blue eyes. “Perhaps, if ever you grow tired of yours, you may return it to me, and the pair shall be reunited.”
She swallowed, her heart doing something altogether ridiculous.
She knew she ought to laugh it off, to brush aside whatever strange warmth had settled in her chest.
Instead, she simply nodded. “Perhaps.”