Page 19 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

Olivia stared back at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You really don’t recall anything?”

He bristled at the hint that he was a liar, or worse, a fool. “I may not remember you, but I do know myself. And I wouldn't have entrusted my signet ring to another unless it was for good cause. If you saved me as you claim, then I am indebted to you, regardless of if you are a maid or not.”

A bark of laughter that was filled with anything but mirth filled the momentary silence. “Should I remind you how you declared you would repay me?” Olivia tilted her head to one side and then the other, lips partially pursed.

His gaze was immediately drawn to her mouth, which was ripe for a kiss. Bloody hell. The woman could be weighing up her options and debating whether to blackmail him, for he had absolutely no recollection of the events that had led up to him bestowing what was, at the time, his one and only prized possession. As if she was sizing him up, she now looked him over from head to toe and back up again.

Before she could answer her own question, Warren said, “Rather than taking the word of a lad, why don’t I simply tell you how I intend to settle my debt?” He leaned down until their faces were but inches apart, meaning to intimidate the woman. Except he found himself still mesmerized by her parted pink lips. As if propelled by an invisible hand, he lowered his mouth to hers and tasted the sweetness of an angel. A decade of searching had been well worth his time.

Hands pressed to his chest, Olivia gasped for air. He waited for her to push him away or slap him as he so deserved. When she did neither, he rested his forehead upon hers and waited for his own breathing to return to normal.

“Lord Guernsey!” Lady Charlotte admonished as she suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, grabbed his angel, and whisked her out of his reach.

“Lady Charlotte.” Olivia hung on to the countess’s arm. “I beg you…”

The plea fell on deaf ears, as Lady Charlotte said sharply, “You revealed your true identity, didn’t you?”

“I care naught if Olivia is a lady or a maid. She’s the woman I intend to marry.”

His statement drew dagger-filled stares from both ladies.

“It’s not a matter of whether you care; it is a matter of what others believe,” Lady Charlotte replied. “If you were the issue, I would never have placed Olivia in such a predicament.”

“I’ve never paid any mind to the opinions of others,” he rebuked.

“Exactly. You have weathered years of gossip and insinuations and remained relatively unscathed. My concern is for Olivia. If you care for her even the tiniest bit as a person and not as your savior, you will not make light of placing her in such a quandary."

Lady Charlotte had a point. The ton was renowned for being harshest amongst themselves, and ruthless toward outsiders. It made sense to ease Olivia into society.

Olivia released Lady Charlotte and placed herself between them before turning to face him. “I have no intentions of marrying you, or anyone for that matter. And I certainly won’t agree to be wed out of gratitude or some ridiculous sense of honor.” She spun around to face Lady Charlotte. “I’m your maid, and it’s not in my nature to mislead or lie to others.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve had eyes on you for years. Your honesty and straightforward manner are truly admirable, but as you have experienced, it doesn’t always result in a happy ending.” Lady Charlotte took a cautious step closer to Olivia, as if approaching a feral animal. “I truly believe you are more than worthy of becoming the Viscountess of Guernsey.”

“It’s all good and well that you might think so, but no one has asked me what I want,” Olivia replied.

Bloody hell. He had indeed acted much like his high-handed fellow peers, placing his own wishes before hers. Warren cleared his throat. “Would you be willing to become reacquainted, with the knowledge that I hope to convince you to wed me and become the Viscountess of Guernsey?”

His breath caught in his chest as Olivia turned ever so slowly to face him once more. It seemed an eternity before she answered, “Possibly. As long as there is no deception involved.”

Chapter Seven

Tossing and turning in bed, Olivia relived her encounter with Warren. Why, oh why had she not simply refused him? She was a commoner. He was a peer. Yet no matter how many times she reminded herself of the facts, she was inevitably drawn to the man who set her entire body alive when he was close. She had wagered and endured that battle for a decade.

When she ventured out of town or to a village that neighbored Guernsey Manor, she never felt whole. It was only when she was within his proximity that she feel as if she were capable of living a full life. Even so, she had thought that meant living in the shadows and watching him from afar. Now she was daring to consider what her life might be if she…

No, she wouldn’t torment herself with what ifs.

She tugged the tangled sheets over her head, only to throw them off a moment later. Done with lying to herself, Olivia swung her legs around and jumped out of bed. Dwelling on the matter had resolved nothing. It was time to act. She donned one of the many modest day gowns that Lady Charlotte had ordered for her.

She paused in front of the looking glass; the image she’d barely recognized a week ago was ever so slowly becoming more familiar. Lady Charlotte’s rebuke to her displeasure at wearing such lovely gowns rang clear in her mind. “It’s the woman who wears the clothes that matters. The clothes themselves do not make the woman.”

Egad. Lady Charlotte was like a magician, able to make others do and believe the impossible.

On her tiptoes, she crept to the door of her chamber and peered into the hall. She closed her eyes to listen carefully. One… Two… Three… Four… Five. Silence. Hands pressed together, she sent up a quick prayer that she would be able to slip out without detection. Breath held, she stole down the hall, avoiding certain sections that were prone to creaking. By the time she reached the servants’ exit, her chest was burning for air, and her palms were sweaty. When she finally reached the cool night air, she heaved in a deep breath.

“Where do you think you are off to in the middle of the night?”

Olivia jumped a good two feet off the ground and spun around to face the Earl of Camden, who was twice as intimidating as Lady Charlotte. “My… my lord.” She sank down into a curtsy she wasn’t certain she could manage with her knees weak and shaking.