LITMIR.BIZ

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but I’m damned if I’m playing the Peeping Tom. Give them a moment.’

      He appeared to be counting, then gave Decima’s hand a squeeze, released it and pushed the door wide. Henry had Olivia in his arms, her face was tipped up to his and they were kissing with total absorption. Decima found a smile of pure indulgence was spreading across her face and she hastily straightened her expression and coughed. How was Adam intending to play this?

      The lovers jumped apart as though a shot had been fired. Olivia went white and burst into tears. Henry, as pale as she, drew himself up to his full height and bowed. ‘I am at your disposal, my lord. Please name your friends.’

      ‘I find you ravishing my affianced bride and you expect the honour of a duel?’ Adam’s voice was icy. ‘I should fetch a horsewhip.’

       Chapter Twenty-Three

      ‘No!’ It was Olivia, transformed from a tearful mouse into a spitting cat. ‘Henry was not ravishing me, he would do nothing so dishonourable. We love each other!’ She turned and took Henry’s arm, twining herself close to him. ‘I defy you to accuse him. I know I am ruined, but I do not care!’

      ‘Let me be the first to congratulate you,’ Adam said warmly.

      ‘What?’ It was Henry, one arm tight around Olivia’s quivering form. ‘Are you making sport with us, my lord? Because I have to warn you that I have no intention of standing by and seeing you insult this lady. All blame for what has just occurred is mine and I insist—’

      ‘Stubble it, do,’ Adam interrupted, lapsing into exasperated cant. ‘You love her, she loves you. Miss Channing and I find that we were mutually mistaken in our affections and have agreed, on the friendliest of terms, to sever our contract.’

      ‘We were? I mean, we are?’ Olivia was staring at him, her pretty face flushed, the snail tracks of tears drying on her cheeks. ‘But the scandal…’

      ‘What scandal?’ Decima decided it was time to take a hand. ‘Lord Weston, and you and Henry, will all appear in public on the friendliest of terms. Lady Freshford will be delighted, and will say so. Your parents will express their approval—’

      ‘They will?’ Henry was staring at her, apparently dumbfounded.

      ‘They will when they realise how wealthy you are,’ Decima retorted. ‘And how generous you will be with the settlements. And, of course, the fact that you will be persuading your cousin the duke to host the wedding at Farleigh. Adam might be a viscount, but he is not closely related to any living dukes, are you?’

      ‘No, although I am a distant connection of Freshford’s duke.’

      ‘He’s only a second cousin,’ Henry protested faintly. ‘Once removed.’

      ‘How are we going to tell Mama?’ Olivia enquired, going a little pale again and clutching Henry’s arm.

      ‘Are both she and your father out of town?’ Adam asked.

      ‘Yes, until Wednesday—three days’ time.’

      ‘Then we will both talk to them then, together. We will explain how we are mistaken in our feelings and how, although you tried to hide it from me, you loved another. I saw through your honourable deceit, leaving you free to marry the man you love, and so forth. I will exit, looking noble, to be followed by Freshford, hard on my heels before they have time to think of objections.’

      ‘I will be so frightened.’ Olivia’s eyes were wide. ‘I cannot do it, I know I cannot.’

      ‘Do you want to break Henry’s heart?’ Decima enquired bracingly, satisfied when she saw Olivia’s jaw set with determination.

      Henry appeared to be a man coming out of a dream. The stunned expression was vanishing rapidly, to be replaced by a look of deep suspicion. ‘A word with you, my lord,’ he said grimly.

      ‘Not here.’ Adam held the door wide and ushered Henry out. ‘We do not want to confuse or alarm the ladies, do we?’

      Adam closed the door and leant back on the panels. ‘Before you ask, yes, that was all a ruse.’ It was just beginning to sink in that it had worked, that he was no longer tied to Olivia and that he could at last tell Decima how he felt about her.

      ‘Your leg?’ Freshford was still eying him with a degree of suspicious hostility, unwilling to trust him entirely yet.

      ‘A trick.’

      ‘Someone could have been killed, shots were fired, Olivia was alone in that curricle.’

      ‘Every pistol, including yours, was loaded with blanks. The “highwayman” leading the curricle is a highly competent groom and the horses were less than fresh after a long drive. I did what I could.’ Suddenly bone weary, he let his eyes close for a moment, then reopened them to find Freshford regarding him quizzically.

      ‘Why did you become engaged to Olivia in the first place?’

      Adam shook his head. ‘Ask her. If she will not tell you, I cannot. I suggest you drive her home in your curricle now. Take the picnic hamper from mine and have a pleasant journey back.’

      ‘And leave you with Decima?’ To Adam’s eye, Freshford was looking less like a man in love and more like a suspicious relative. ‘Just what are your intentions, my lord? I should tell you, I regard her as my sister. If you hurt her, you will have me to answer to. I am more grateful than I can say for what you have done for Olivia and me, but I won’t let that stand in my way.’

      ‘My intentions? To marry her, if she’ll have me. Do you think she will?’

      Freshford grinned suddenly. ‘You’ll have to ask her and see.’

      Adam reached into his pocket and withdrew the pistol. ‘You had better have this, just in case. The ammunition is live. If Decima were to be…delayed this afternoon—’

      ‘I will tell my mother she’s staying with a friend.’ Henry took the pistol, pocketed it, then held out his hand. ‘Good luck.’

      Adam stepped aside as he opened the door and called. Olivia came out, too wrapped up in Henry to even notice Adam standing back in the shadows. He shook his head ruefully, wondering what transformation in the pretty little mouse the experience of loving Henry Freshford would bring about. It would be intriguing to watch, but now he had his own fate to put to the touch.

      Decima was standing by a cold fireplace, staring down at the empty hearth. She glanced up as he came in, her face serious. ‘Olivia has just told me about the house party and why you had to propose to her. She feels so guilty about that.’

      ‘Water under the bridge now.’ Adam shrugged. ‘At the time I almost welcomed it. I had lost something very precious and I didn’t think I had a hope of finding it again, so nothing else really mattered.’ Did she understand him?

      It seemed she did—the colour was high on her cheekbones and her eyes dropped before his. He pressed on. ‘I was running away from love and commitment and marriage. I thought that what I felt for you was desire, just that.’ He was doggedly determined to lay it all out, leave nothing unsaid. ‘Then when I realised what I really wanted, that I didn’t want to run any more, I couldn’t find you. When I did discover who you were, it was too late.’

      Decima was silent. Had he misjudged it? Should he have taken her back home, waited, tried wooing her with soft words and flowers?

      ‘Decima.’ It was four strides to reach her across the room—it seemed like a mile. ‘Decima, I love you. Will you marry me?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She turned to him, her eyes sparkling, her warm, generous mouth curved into a smile that was pure happiness, just for him. ‘Yes, I will, and I love you, I’ve loved you for so long and I never thought you could possibly love me.’

      There didn’t appear to be any

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