Page 19 of Never Doubt I Love (Calloway #3)

As Olivia had learned over the last two weeks of him staying at the house, Alexander Bailey was too good at hiding his emotions, and it frustrated her to no end. As someone who perpetually wore her heart on her sleeve, she could not fathom how he managed to keep everything so locked up.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to glean any hint of whether she had made a poor decision. And... nothing. The man was a blank slate, outside of the tiny smirk that never seemed to go away when they were together.

It was always subtle, as they were almost never alone. If Lucy and Mother weren’t nearby discussing names for Lucy’s unborn child or laughing over stories of Simon’s younger years, as they were now, Nick was claiming boredom and filling the room with his enthusiasm, sometimes with his wife and sometimes without, depending on her desire to leave the house.

“I am waiting,” Alexander said, tapping one finger on the table in a steady rhythm.

Olivia huffed. “I am thinking,” she argued.

He nodded to the bishop in her fingers. “You have already moved your piece.”

“Yes, but I have yet to let go. I may change my mind.”

“In the next five minutes, do you think? If not, I thought perhaps I would take a stroll along the Serpentine while I wait.”

Olivia scowled, though she doubted it was all that effective when laughter threatened to bubble up out of her chest. “Alex Bailey, has anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?” That question was laughable on its own. Olivia had never met anyone more patient than Alexander. He had endured her oddities for weeks now.

They had taken up these daily chess games as a tradition soon after Alexander’s arrival. He spent his mornings with Simon, sometimes with Lord Harstone, sometimes even with Nick. When the lords hied themselves to Parliament, and before Olivia entertained callers or went calling herself, Alexander taught her to play.

She had gotten far better at the game under his tutelage, but she had not yet figured out the trickery part of the game. Any time Alexander tried to show her how to bait her opponent with an easy capture, she failed to replicate it. Granted, her opponent was always Alexander, who was far more intelligent than she was, but the only games she had won had come as short-lived victories when she realized he had once again thrown the match to give her a boost. He couldn’t possibly enjoy playing so many games against a player far beneath him, but he had yet to complain.

For Olivia’s part, she looked forward to the company more than the game.

Leaning forward, Alexander rested his fingers against Olivia’s hand, the one still holding on to her bishop. “Has anyone told you that you should trust your instinct? Why overthink your decision when you are clever enough to make the best move you can?”

Olivia knew her face was burning bright red, as it always did whenever Alexander touched her, but there was little she could do about it. At the very least, she could expect him not to react. He never did. “What if my instinct is wrong?” she asked in an effort to avoid fixating on the warmth of his fingers. “I have been wrong many times before.”

He chuckled, his smirk growing. “I am well aware of that. You did tell a man last night that you only ate artichoke soup and nothing else.”

Snorting a laugh, Olivia shook her head as if that might make last night’s dinner party less of a disaster. “How was I supposed to know the man was overly fond of artichokes?” Thank goodness for Alexander, who had somehow convinced the man—Olivia couldn’t remember his name—that he should pursue someone who would not eat all the artichokes and save none for him. “And you cannot forget what happened when I spent too much time speaking to Mr. Harris at church on Sunday and a line of gentlemen formed behind him.”

Alexander’s expression immediately sobered. “That would be difficult to forget. Harris seems to have grown rather fond of you.”

Olivia could not fathom it. “No matter what I do, I cannot turn him away.”

“But you wish to?” Was that hope in his voice? Or did Olivia simply want him to be hopeful?

Shrugging, she looked back down at her hand still sitting beneath his. Did he notice their prolonged connection, or had he forgotten he was touching her? She could hardly think of anything else, as was always the case on those rare occasions when he touched her.

“Mr. Harris is an amiable man,” she said, “and I adore his sister. He would make a fine husband for anyone.”

“That does not mean you love him.” Alexander spoke so quietly that Olivia wondered if he’d meant for her to hear him.

No, she did not love Mr. Harris, but she was starting to wonder if she could grow to love him. After all, he was the only man who had not turned up his nose despite her trying her best to convince him that she was little more than her dowry. Miss Lovelace had accepted a man’s offer last week and seemed incomparably happy, yet she could not possibly love her betrothed after knowing him for so little time. The same could probably be said for another of Olivia’s friends who had become engaged only a few days ago, but both women were beyond delighted.

Olivia had begun to think maybe she did not understand love in the first place. Nothing thus far about her Season had felt how she had thought it would, and her efforts to get her friends married were working better than she had expected, leaving her the only one on her own.

Pulling her hand free from Alexander’s, she pasted on a smile. “There,” she said, nodding at her bishop where it sat. “I have made my decision.”

Alexander frowned down at the piece. “Have you?” Could it be that he wasn’t questioning the game but her choices in life? She had not made any decisions in that regards to Mr. Harris, but thus far no other man had shown any true interest in her.

Olivia straightened her spine, hoping Alexander did not notice the weight slowly building on her shoulders. She had been so certain that she would be perfectly content if she did not find herself a match this Season, but a part of her had thought she would at least have proposals to turn down. It had become easier to turn men away than she had thought—a sentence or two was all it usually took—and whatever value she had felt two months ago when she’d arrived had diminished, leaving her feeling like a wilted and smashed flower at the bottom of a flower girl’s basket.

She wasn’t certain she wanted to keep playing this game of hers.

“It is your move, Alex,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. Admittedly, it was not much today.

Alexander hardly looked at the board before he shifted his knight forward. “Something is bothering you,” he said gently. “I should not have spoken out of turn about Mr. Harris. Your feelings are your own.”

Olivia scoffed and moved her own knight to capture Alexander’s. “I do not understand my feelings. I should not be upset that the gentlemen of London are beginning to accept that I am not worth the effort of pursuing.”

Though he had been reaching for his last remaining pawn, Alexander paused, his blue-gray eyes fixed on Olivia with an intensity that brought heat back to her cheeks. “I thought you wanted to turn them all away.”

“Only the ones who want nothing but my fortune.” Olivia sighed, giving up on false confidence and slumping in her seat. “I suppose I expected this scheme of mine to turn out differently.”

Alexander sat back and folded his arms. “You hoped the ton would be less easily persuaded.” It was not a question. “Mr. Harris has not given up.”

“Nor has your brother.” Olivia scrunched up her face at the same time Alexander winced. The duke had admittedly surprised her with his continued attention, though Simon had not made it easy on him. His Grace did his best to dance with her at least once if they were at the same ball, and he always inquired after Cordelia or Alexander’s wellbeing. He had made it past Simon and Forester a few times for a quick conversation, and though he had not come calling again, Olivia always felt his eyes on her anytime they both attended a function.

It was strange to think a duke , of all people, would be one of the only men to continue his pursuit, leaving her with two opposite options: a highly influential and wealthy duke and a man of few means but many good qualities.

Then there was Alexander, who sat somewhere in the middle but had no intentions of courting her. A knot in her stomach always grew whenever she thought about Alexander and his indifference toward her. They were friends—of that she was certain—but why had he never thought they could be more? Surely his heart was not so broken.

“My brother,” Alexander said on a sigh. “He does seem to like you.”

But did he like her in truth? Olivia was too afraid to ask. His Grace was handsome—all three Bailey brothers were—and thus far he seemed to be a courteous and patient man. A duke would hardly need Olivia’s dowry, so his interest must have been genuine, but Simon and Alexander were both convinced the duke could bring nothing but trouble. At least, Simon was convinced. Alexander did not seem as certain lately.

“Have you spoken to him recently?” Olivia asked.

Alexander shook his head, his frown growing more pronounced. “Not since he was here.”

The duke had always approached Olivia when Alexander was busy with another conversation, and Olivia had wondered if that was intentional. Alexander had never shown any pleasure over his brother’s interest, and perhaps His Grace hoped to show Olivia who he was without his brother’s bias getting in the way.

Yes, Olivia believed that the duke had done some questionable things in the past. But she also believed a man could change.

Hastings appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, pulling Olivia’s attention away from Alexander’s frown. “Mr. Fores—”

“Ah, my favorite Calloway ladies!” Nick swept into the room before Hastings could finish his introduction. “How are we this fine morning?”

Lucy and Mother chuckled at his enthusiasm and accepted his kisses on their cheeks. “Your wife should learn to lock you in the house if she wishes to keep you nearby,” Lucy said, shaking her head at him.

Nick laughed. “My wife is far too busy reading a thrilling gothic novel to keep me entertained this afternoon. She practically tossed me from the house.” He looked over at Olivia and Alexander, his expression growing mischievous. “Chess again? Young people these days have no sense of adventure.”

Grabbing a chair, Nick brought it over to the chess table and sat on it backward. “Has she managed to beat you yet, Alex?”

Olivia frowned. When had Nick started calling him Alex? She’d thought that nickname had been hers alone to use.

“She has won a few games,” Alexander said.

Nick rested his chin on his arms, glancing between the two of them. “Has she beaten you without you allowing it?” he asked with a wink.

Olivia smacked his shoulder. “I do not need you to point out my deficiencies, Mr. Forester.”

But then Alex said, “Once.”

“What? When?” When Alexander merely smirked, Olivia picked up one of his captured pawns and tossed it at him. “Why did you not tell me?”

“I did tell you,” he argued, “but you did not believe me.”

“Liv has never believed me,” Nick said with a chuckle. “Now you know she likes you.”

“I have never wanted anything more.”

Olivia pressed her hands to her cheeks, though she knew that would hardly hide her blush. “Alexander Bailey, you have become the worst sort of tease over these past weeks.” His compliments always came at random, when she least expected them, and they always brought warmth to her chest. She did not understand why his compliments always affected her more than anyone else’s, considering he was not trying to woo her. Perhaps it was for that reason that she knew he meant them. “You are worse than Nick.”

Alexander threw Nick an amused grin as he returned the thrown pawn to the table. “I suppose anyone who spends enough time with Forester would take on some of his flirtatious nature.”

“I believe you come by it naturally,” Nick argued. “One would have to be both blind and deaf to have missed the many compliments you have been throwing at the ladies of the ton . And yet...” He narrowed his eyes, as if suspicious about something. “Yet you do not seem to be courting any of them, and you only ever compliment those Olivia likes best. Why is that, I wonder?”

Before either Olivia or Alexander could say a word, Nick continued. “And then there is the matter of Olivia’s strange likes and dislikes since her arrival in London. I had no idea she was so particular, or that she spoke with such a nasally voice when excited. Perhaps there is something in the air.”

Though Olivia had known Simon and his friend would notice her odd behavior every time she encountered a new suitor, she had hoped they would simply attribute it to nerves from her first Season. Based on the way Nick was smirking at her, she knew he had picked up on her game.

“I am simply weeding out the men who are not worth my time,” she said with a carefree shrug, even though she felt entirely tense as she waited to hear what Nick would think.

He smiled. “And that, my dear Miss Calloway, is why I have come to tell you that I have heard Lord Shankland intends to dance with you at Lady Lockhart’s ball this evening with the purpose of offering for your hand, as he is quite deeply in debt and very recently widowered.”

Olivia squirmed. “Isn’t Lord Shankland nearly fifty years old?”

Alexander made a sound deep in his throat, much like a growl. “I thought the marchioness passed only a few weeks ago.”

“Indeed to both things,” Nick replied. “But, as his late wife did not provide him with an heir, it seems he is eager to get on with things and find himself a new bride, despite being in a period of mourning.”

“And he wants me?” Olivia liked to think the best of people, but this situation hardly held much room for optimism. “But I have never met the man.”

For some reason, Nick was still smiling, as if this turn of events was inconsequential. “Luckily for you, Livvy, I have met the old marquess, and I know he has a deep hatred of music. Singing, in particular.”

“But I love to sing,” Olivia said with a pout.

“Exactly.”

“Then, what— Oh!” Now she understood, though she felt foolish for taking so long to understand. “Yes, I take your meaning. Perhaps I will need to sing for him tonight. As often as possible.”

“Although,” Nick said, “our little Liv becoming a marchioness is quite the thrilling idea.”

Olivia scoffed. “I would not even wish to be a baroness like Lucy,” she said, keeping her voice low so her sister-in-law wouldn’t hear. “I am hardly the right fit for a title, particularly one so high.”

“Then, you are not interested in becoming a duchess?” Nick raised an eyebrow, studying her so intently that she squirmed again. “You have made me wonder, given your friendly nature toward the Duke of Tipton.”

Alexander made that growling noise again.

Sitting up straight, Olivia returned Nick’s heavy gaze with a glare. “I would rather be poor as a church mouse than become a duchess.”

Nick shared another look with Alexander, who frowned. “Is that so? It is a wonder you are such good friends with our Lord Alex here, given your feelings toward the title.”

“Alex is not a duke.” Thank goodness for that.

“Hmm.” Nick studied her a moment more, and then he rose to his feet. “Well, I had other reasons for coming to the Calloway house this afternoon, and I should stop dawdling. Alex, Calloway has sent me with a task for you.”

Alexander’s eyebrows rose high. “A task?”

“Indeed. As he is currently tied up in ghastly political discussions in Westminster, he hoped you would be available to stop by his haberdashery and see how the shopkeeper fares. Things have been so hectic with the shop since the Season began, and Calloway has not had the time to ensure all is well.”

“And he has entrusted me?” Alexander seemed baffled by the idea, even though he had been learning from Simon for two weeks now. Olivia had learned, during their chess games, that Alexander had a mind for business and had been hoping to be more involved with Simon’s ventures, though he was unwilling to ask. She had tried to push him to talk to her brother, but Alexander had remained adamant that he simply needed to be patient and wait for Simon to trust him.

“That is wonderful news!” Olivia said, reaching over the table to put her hand on Alexander’s arm. He startled at her touch, pink rising up his neck. “You see? I told you Simon would trust you before long.”

“But . . .” Alexander swallowed, his shoulders tensing. “But I do not know . . .”

Nick laughed. “Relax, Alex. I will be joining you. I know little of business or finance—that is my wife’s realm of expertise—but I find I am a great support when one is lacking a certain confidence.”

“It is not that I am not confident,” Alexander said, which only increased the color in his face. “I did not expect Calloway to entrust something this important to me.”

Lucy cleared her throat, smiling over at their little group around the chess table. “Alexander, Simon has told me how quickly you have been learning, and he thinks you have a knack for seeing the problems that need fixing. I am certain he has assigned you this task not only because he is busy but also because he thinks you may be able to help. That shop has been so busy since we purchased it, and nothing Simon does seems to help keep everything organized. He thinks you may find the solution, and my husband does not easily ask for help.”

“Hear, hear!” Nick said with a nod toward Lucy. “Calloway is one of the most stubborn men I know. It’s a trait that runs in the family.” He winked at Olivia, who scowled back.

As her hand was still on his side of the table, Olivia moved her fingers from Alexander’s arm to take hold of his hand. It was dangerous, being so familiar with him with the eyes of her family on her, but Alexander seemed to need the reassurance. “Alex, you know my brother does not trust easily, but he is trusting you now. This is the opportunity you have been waiting for. Please do not waste it. I know you will be brilliant.”

When Alexander’s eyes drifted to the chessboard between them, Olivia quickly knocked her king to its side so he couldn’t use the game as an excuse to avoid this chance. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Thank you,” he murmured before rising to his feet. “Forester, I am at your disposal.”

Nick stood as well, his smile wide and triumphant. “On the contrary, my friend. I am at yours. Lead the way.”

Olivia watched them go, praying Alexander would find a way to prove to Simon that he was the right man for the job. He deserved everything in the world, and as Olivia had thus far failed at finding him a wife, she hoped he could at least find some measure of happiness in work and feel a sense of fulfillment.

One of them should.