Authors: Elizabeth Mansfield
The Fifth Kiss (32 page)
Morley, red as a beet, leaped to his feet.
“
Miles
!” Olivia cried, aghast.
Strickland winced. “Not
again
!” he muttered.
“I ⦠I'm terribly sorry,” the humiliated Crawford stammered. “I don't know wh-what ⦠I'm afraid I quite l-lost my head.”
“It's a symptom that seems to afflict many young men who find themselves in proximity to Miss Matthews,” Strickland remarked drily.
“Please don't be nonsensical,” Olivia pleaded, rising. “What are you
doing
here, my lord? Has anything happened to the children?”
“No, my dear. There's nothing I've come to tell you that is important enough to have interrupted your ⦠er ⦔
“I beg to differ, Miles,” Charles cut in firmly. “It seems to me your ⦠er ⦠mission is
very
important. I'm certain that Mr. Crawford will not object to leaving you to your discussion, will you, Crawford? Come along, old man, and let me offer you a drink of brandy in the drawing room. You look as if you could use it.” With an iron grip on Morley's arm, Charles led the unhappy fellow inexorably toward the door.
Morley threw a helpless look over his shoulder at his beloved, but she was not even looking at him. Muttering a sheepish goodnight, he permitted himself to be led from the room.
When the door had closed behind them, Strickland turned to Olivia with an expression of wry amusement. “Am I to wish you happy
this
time, my dear, or was this
also
an instance of an unfortunate mischance?”
“Don't be infuriating, Miles. Morley is just a ⦠friend.”
“Is
that
what he is? In that case, girl, it seems to me that somebody should instruct you in the proper manner of entertaining friends. There is a limit, you know, to the amount of ⦠er â¦
friendship
a well-bred young lady should permit.”
“Are you quite finished with your jibes, my lord? Or must I endure this sort of treatment for the rest of the evening?”
He held up his hands in surrender. “My apologies, ma'am. Perry warned me about my tendency to be rude to ladies. I forgot myself.”
“
Perry
warned you?” she asked, puzzled.
“Yes, my dear. It is on his behalf that I've come. He wants you back at Langley, you see. In fact, we
all
want you back.”
Olivia felt her stomach knot. She sank down on the sofa in considerable perturbation. “
Do
you?”
“Yes, we do. However, there is a problem to overcome first.”
“You mean Miss Oglesby, I suppose. I don't thinkâ”
“I do
not
mean Miss Oglesby. She and I have agreed that we should not suit. She has returned to her home with her family. No, my dear, the problem is that my aunt Eugenia and your cousin Hattie are leaving us, andâ”
“
Leaving
you? Are they
really
?”
“Yes, indeed. You will never credit it, but they've decided to take up residence
together
. Hattie intends to dispose of her London rooms and move in with Eugenia as soon as arrangements can be made.”
“Miles, you're
joking
! They fight with each other
constantly
!”
“Yes, isn't it amazing? Apparently, there's nothing either one of them enjoys so much as a good quarrel.”
Olivia broke into a peal of laughter. “What a fortuitous circumstance for
you
, my lord,” she said when she'd recovered her breath, “to have rid yourself of both of them at once.”
“Yes, but therein lies the problem. If there are no chaperones in residence at Langley Park, it will not be at all proper for you to come homeâ”
“
Home
?” she echoed, a bit breathlessly.
“Not at all proper,” he repeated, “
unless.
..”
“Unless?”
“Unless you married me, of course. It would be a brilliant solution to all our problems. And would make everyone ecstatically happy besides.”
She gazed up at him, almost too shaken to speak. “W-Would it make
you
happy, Miles?”
“More than anything,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her. “Of course I realize that I'm quite old ⦔
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from trembling. “Yes, I know,” she murmured, her eyes demurely lowered.
“And an incorrigible Tory ⦔
“Yes, you are.”
He leaned a little closer. “And a disreputable libertine ⦔
“Quite so.”
His face was disconcertingly close to hers. “You know, Olivia,” he murmured, “there
is
something dangerous in a man's finding himself in proximity to you.
I
am beginning to lose my head
myself
!”
She was aware of only the slightest movement on his part before she found herself locked in his arms, his lips on hers. Her head seemed suddenly to be swimming in dizzying joy, while delicious little bubbles of excitement started a dance in her blood. There was certainly
something
this man knew about the nature of kissing that the other men who'd embraced her did not.
Perhaps he ought to give instruction
, she thought fleetingly, but immediately afterward, all thought deserted her, and she surrendered her entire being to the heady delight of the embrace.
The sound of a rattling doorknob drove them apart. With a whispered “Damnation!” he leaped to his feet in time to see Jamie coming in the door. “I say, Livie,” Jamie was saying, “what have you done to Morleyâ? Oh, Strickland!
You
here?”
“Obviously,” he responded tersely.
Jamie stuck out a welcoming hand. “Good to see you! What brings you to town? Has Liverpool got himself into a fix?”
“I've come, you jackanapes, to make an offer to your sister. And I would be eternally grateful if you would take yourself off and let me get on with the business.”
Jamie's mouth opened in gaping surprise as he looked from one to the other. “Oh?” he inquired, not quite sure what to make of the situation. Then, with a shrug, he turned back to the door. “Very well, I'll go. But I wouldn't waste my time over it, Miles, if I were you. She don't like you above half.”
When the door had closed behind him, Strickland resumed his seat and grinned at her. “
Don't
you like me, my love?”
“Not very much,” she murmured, playing with a button on his coat, “although I must admit that your kisses are quite extraordinary.” Then, her smile fading, she held him off with one trembling hand. “Do you
truly
love me, Miles?” she asked, her eyes searching his face. “It scarcely seems possible. You've always said you
dislike
bluestockings.”
“I do. All but one.” And he kissed her again to prove the point.
“But, Miles,” she persisted when she could speak again, “what brought you to me
now
? Why didn't you speak of your feelings at
Langley
instead of sending me away?”
“Because, my dear girl, I was convinced that you thought me a
monster
. You've called me that a number of times, you know. It was not until Perry revealed to me that you'd said I was
not
a monster that I had the courage to declare myself.” He smiled down at her with a sudden touch of hesitancy in his glance. “You haven't answered me, ma'am.
Will
you come home with me?”
“Oh, my dear, you've thrown me into the greatest turmoil!” she responded, moving away from him in an effort to think. “I don't know
what
to do.” She could see a glimmer of fearful pain jump into his eyes, and, tenderly, she lifted her hand to his face. “I
do
love you, you know. Quite desperately. But ⦠we are so different, you and I. We shall be so much at odds ⦔
That she loved him was all he needed to hear. Nothing else had any importance. “Not so very much,” he assured her, rubbing his cheek against her hand. “Only about politics. I've quite put my libertinish activities behind me. And as for the political differences, I think we shall quite enjoy debating parliamentary actions.”
But not all
her
doubts were resolved. “Then there's ⦠my
guilt
, you know.”
“Guilt?”
“You
were
my brother-in-law, after all. Doesn't this make you feel ⦠somehow ⦠traitorous?”
“To Clara, you mean? She will be rejoicing, I think.” He took her gently into his arms again. “She predicted this would happen, you know.”
Olivia gazed at him wide-eyed. “
Did
she, Miles?”
He smiled down at her. “I thought, when she said it, that the illness had affected her
mind
. But she was quite lucid about everything else, so I must conclude that she was expressing her true feelings.”
“Oh,
Miles
!” She threw her arms about his neck in a completely uninhibited rush of happiness. “Then I have nothing else to say but
yes
!”
She lifted her face to be kissed again, but again the opening of the door interrupted them. Strickland again got to his feet, his face a study of amused irritation. Sir Octavius padded in, his spectacles low on his nose, a sheaf of papers in his hand and a puzzled expression on his face. “Livie, have you seen my
Euthyphro
? There's a quotation concerning the definition of holiness which I mustâAh,
Strickland
! Paying us a visit, are you?”
“No sir, not exactly. I've come for a very special purpose. I want to ask your permission for your daughter's hand.”
“What? Her hand?” Octavius asked absently as he wandered about the room picking up books and putting them down.
“In marriage, sir. I wish to marry your Olivia.”
“Oh? Well, old fellow, you'd better ask
her
. I don't know anything about those matters. Can't fix my mind on fripperies, you know. Ah!
Here
it is! Could have
sworn
I put it on my desk.” He began to look through the pages for the desired quotation.
“Then may I assume, sir,” Strickland persisted, “that, if she agrees, I have your consent?”
Sir Octavius looked up from the page. “To marry my daughter? Yes, yes, I suppose so.” Suddenly his brow wrinkled and, peering out blankly from above his spectacles with puzzled eyes, he muttered, “That's strange! I had the most peculiar feeling for a moment that you'd asked me that very same question some time ago. Do you think, Olivia, my love, that I might be becoming absent-minded?”
About the Author
Elizabeth Mansfield is a pseudonym of Paula Schwartz, which she used for more than two dozen Regency romances. Schwartz also wrote an American immigrant family saga,
A Morning Moon
, as Paula Reibel, and two American history romancesâ
To Spite the Devil
, as Paula Jonas, and
Rachel's Passage
, as Paula Reid.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1981 by Paula Schwartz
Cover design by Andy Ross
ISBN: 978-1-4976-9770-6
This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
EBOOKS BY ELIZABETH MANSFIELD
FROM OPEN ROAD MEDIA
