Page 22 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

T he grand estate of Ivy Manor had settled into a quiet rhythm, the hum of a dwindling house party lingering in the air like the final notes of a well-played sonata.

She sat tall and still, as her abigail worked on the complicated hairstyle, but her thoughts were anything but still. They ran over and thought through everything that had transpired in such a short time.

Three days had passed since the ball. Three days since Lord Cheshire had confessed at least in part the feelings he had for her. She had stopped him from confessing the depth of his feelings that she was too afraid to hear, but she had not been able to rid her memory of the conversation.

She had busied herself with morning rides, polite conversation, and avoiding any prolonged moments alone with him. And yet—he had not pressed her.

That had been the hardest part.

Edward had been nothing but a perfect gentleman. Not once in these past days had he attempted to corner her, nor had he hinted at their private exchange in the moonflower garden. He had treated her with the same warmth, the same familiarity, but never with expectation.

And yet—it was torture.

She should have felt relieved. Should have felt grateful that he was respecting the boundary she had drawn between them.

Instead, she felt adrift—unmoored.

Had he changed his mind?

The thought unsettled her more than it ought to.

A soft knock at her bedroom door drew her attention. She glanced away from the mirror and smoothed the fabric of her pale blue morning gown. “Come in.”

Mrs. Morris entered, her ever-practical presence filling the room. Olivia’s abigail continued with methodical care, as Mrs. Morris surveyed her with an appraising gaze.

“Well,” her chaperone began, her tone filled with knowing. “I had thought you and Lord Cheshire had reached an understanding.”

Olivia’s stomach twisted. “Not yet.”

Mrs. Morris arched a brow. “Not yet?”

Olivia glanced at her abigail’s reflection in the mirror. The girl’s focus remained firmly on securing the last pin in place. Lowering her voice, she added, “There is no understanding, Mrs. Morris.”

The older woman frowned. “But I was sure he would have taken the opportunity when the two of you stepped out of the ballroom together.”

Olivia’s fingers curled in her lap, grateful she did not have to lie. “No opportunity was taken.”

Mrs. Morris folded her hands before her. “Time is of the essence, my dear. If you do not secure him soon, it may be too late once the house party is over.”

Too late.

The words rang in Olivia’s mind like the chime of a distant bell, setting off a storm of conflicted emotions.

Secure him?

They had done such a remarkable job pretending to be in love that she was beginning to believe it herself.

And yet—wasn’t that foolish?

She had been young and na?ve once. She had believed in sweeping declarations, in grand romantic notions. And where had that led her?

Humiliation. Heartache.

She had vowed never to be so reckless again.

Lord Cheshire had not fully made his sentiments known, but her imagination filled in the gaps for her without resistance. Fear of repeating the past crept in again. Her brain could come up with several explanations. They had only been pretending to be interested in each other. She could not trust that their ruse could turn into something genuine in such a short amount of time. If and when she ever looked for love, it would come in a much different way. She was certain of it. Their alliance was based on their mutual decisions to stay unattached.

“He’s an earl. It would be the most fortunate of matches. And he has given you preference over everyone. Now is the time to capture him,” Mrs. Morris said.

She straightened in her chair. “Mrs. Morris, I appreciate your concern, but I have no intention of ensnaring an earl.”

The older woman’s brows lifted. “You say that, but just think of how happy your brother would be if you did. An earl , Olivia. It is a most respectable match.”

Mrs. Morris’s eyes gleamed at the prospect, and with that, Olivia’s resolve solidified.

No.

That was not why she had entered this arrangement. That was not why she had spent these past days in Lord Cheshire’s company.

She had never considered his title, his wealth, or his status. At a house party, such things faded into the background. He had simply been—Edward.

Not a prize to be won.

Not a connection to be secured.

Just a man she had come to care for.

And that was the problem.

Because now, everything was confusing. Everything felt uncertain.

She had spent so long fighting for her independence, for the dream of traveling the Continent. Was she now to throw that away for a man who had known her for less than a month? It was a repeat of the past.

Her hands trembled as she smoothed her gown.

She could not allow herself to fall into old patterns. She had been a fool once before.

She would not be one again.

With a smile she did not quite feel, Olivia looked at Mrs. Morris and said, “You need not worry. I am resolved in my path.”

Mrs. Morris tilted her head. “And is that path leading toward Lord Cheshire?”

Olivia’s lips parted—but no words came. Heat rose to her cheeks. She didn’t know what she wanted.

How could she answer that when she, herself, truly did not know?

A knock sounded at the door, and the abigail moved quickly to answer it. A footman stood on the threshold.

“The guests are assembling in the drawing room, my lady,” he announced.

Olivia rose with measured grace, smoothing her gown once more.

Mrs. Morris studied her closely. “You must be certain, my dear. If you wish to travel, then be firm in your resolve. But if you have even the slightest inclination toward Lord Cheshire … well, I need not tell you how quickly a house party comes to an end.”

A lump formed in Olivia’s throat.

She nodded, but she did not answer.

As she stepped out into the corridor, her heart warred with itself.

Three days of avoiding the truth had done nothing to make it clearer.

And now—tonight was the last night.

And she still had no idea what she wanted.