Page 40 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

Hell and damnation. Lady Charlotte made an excellent point. He’d been so focused on allaying Olivia’s fears, conducting private dance lessons, arranging for her to have tea with Anne and his mama, and taking her for strolls about Hyde Park. He had acted the gentleman, treated her with courtesy, and made love to her, but had none of those activities revealed his true feelings for her?

Warren glanced down at the woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t read Lady Charlotte as well as he could Olivia, and it took him a moment before he realized she was waiting for him to say something. No, she was waiting for him to ask her for help. With only three days remaining, he had no choice.

He inhaled slowly before giving in. “What do you suggest I do?”

“That is not for me to figure out, but I suggest you act soon or you will lose Olivia forever.”

He’d guessed wrong. Lady Charlotte had no intention of providing guidance. Not one to act without a plan, Warren bowed and said, “I’ll take my leave now.”

“You’re not planning on stealing her out the window later this eve, are you?”

Back ramrod straight, he answered, “Of course not.”

He searched Lady Charlotte’s features for a sign she was teasing him, yet she was suspiciously serious. The butler reappeared and shoved Warren’s garments at him. Clutching his coat to his chest, he watched as the butler escorted his mistress, who had one hand pressed to the small of her back, away. The baby she was carrying had grown noticeably in the past week.

An image of Olivia with flush cheeks and a rounded belly, flashed before his mind's eye. The intent of Lady Charlotte’s parting question hit him square on the head as he donned his hat. If he wanted to be alone with Olivia, he’d have to sneak into her chambers at night. Set with a plan, Warren walked out the front door with a bounce in his step. He was certain that no one other than him could make Olivia happy.

All the bravado that had spurred Warren for a midnight adventure evaporated at the sight of Anne clutching a handkerchief and running up the stairs to her rooms.

Warren walked into the drawing room where his mama stood by the window and asked, “What has upset Anne?”

“Men are such fools.” Mama turned to look at him and shook her head. “Including you.”

Damnation, why do women talk in circles, or rather in riddles?

He spied the stubborn tilt of her chin and opted to pour himself a drink. Walking over to the sideboard, he asked, “Who should I pay a visit to?”

“Anne doesn’t need your interference.” He and his mama crossed paths as she made her way to the settee.

“I’m offering to help.”

“Help. Ha! You need to focus on winning over Olivia and let Anne be.”

Decanter in one hand, glass in the other, he paused to ask, “Is it that obvious that I’ve failed to charm Olivia?”

“Charm! Is that what you think you were supposed to achieve this past week? And here I thought my son was clever.”

“Mama!”

“You dolt. The goal is for Olivia to fall in love with you, not merely hold admiration for you.” Raising a hand in the air, she ordered, “Pour me a glass.”

He glanced at her hand and then back to the empty glass in his. With a shrug, Warren filled the tumbler with a finger and then filled another. Drinks in hand, he walked over to the settee and sat next to her. “Here.”

His mama took the tumbler and downed the amber liquid in one gulp. “Now you will have to excuse me. I’m off to console Anne.” She placed the empty glass on the side table and left him alone.

Apparently, women resorted to drinking brandy for courage. Mayhap he didn’t even know his own mama as well as he thought. Warren set his half-empty tumbler next to his mama’s empty one and stretched out to lie upon the settee. With the back of his head cradled in his hands, he began to ponder who could have upset Anne. It had to be the gentleman whom she had returned to assist, the man Anne still kept secret from him, but not his mother.

What a miserable friend he’d been. Focused purely on his own matters, he hadn’t even bothered to inquire as to how Anne was faring. Should he listen to her and leave Anne be, or should he intervene?

Anne was more than a friend. She was like a sister. He should protect her. He sat up and reached for his drink. When his glass was missing, he glanced around the room.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” Anne was standing by the hearth and raised his tumbler in his direction. “You shouldn’t let this go to waste.” She downed the drink but unlike his mama, she sputtered. Clearly it was her first time consuming brandy. “It’s no wonder others refer to it as liquid courage. Anyone who can drink that would have to be brave.”

He chuckled. Anne always had a way of making him laugh.

Warren got to his feet and walked over to join Anne. “Tell me his name.”

Anne avoided his gaze and stared into the fire.