To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

Which is why he cleared his throat against its sudden dryness and focused his eyes on her face.

“I think the answer to that question is self-evident. I’m escaping through my window.” She was moving down the wall much faster than he thought prudent. Oliver would have asked her to be careful, but he knew that would be to no avai

l. The woman was fearless.

So instead, he stood directly below her and prepared himself to catch her if she fell—his customary position for most of their friendship. He held his breath when her boot slipped off the wall, but she clung tighter to the makeshift rope until she was able to regain her footing.

“Aren’t you going to tell me to take care?” she asked, a smile in her voice, as she continued moving.

“No, I’m much too fond of my breath to waste it on those words.” He held up his hands as she neared the top of the first floor window. Having to fix his eyes on her like that really wasn’t helping his determination to deny his feelings for the woman. She possessed a natural grace and elegance that the average woman had to refine for years to achieve. Elizabeth, however, accomplished the look with no effort at all—while scaling down the side of a house.

It made his stomach clench to think of how she would draw the eye of every eligible male in London. Elizabeth was going to be an instant success this Season, of that he was certain.

Elizabeth neared the ground but then paused, realizing what Oliver had noted from the moment he walked up. Her makeshift rope did not reach the ground. Instead, the end dangled to just above Oliver’s head. Elizabeth would not be able to reach the ground on her own without letting go and jumping from a height that would most likely leave her more than a little bruised.

Her eyes reluctantly slid to his. Oliver had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned casually against the wall, gazing up at her, letting his eyes convey his triumph.

Elizabeth took in a long slow breath and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, just say it.”

“Say what?” he asked in an innocent tone.

She rolled her eyes and adjusted her hold on the linens. “That I do not think before I act.”

He gasped playfully. “I’m offended, Lizzie. I would never say something so stuffy.”

“You would and you have. At least a dozen times over.”

Oliver grinned. “Hmm. I think you’re mistaking me with some other prosy fellow.” He had in fact said that very phrase too many times to count, but it had never done a bit of good, so Oliver had decided to stop saying it. Besides, if he were being honest, he liked rescuing Elizabeth from the scrapes she continuously found herself in.

“Well, if you’re finished acting as if you're posing for a Grecian marble, could you possibly help me down from here?”

Oliver unfolded his arms and pushed off the wall, moving just below Elizabeth again. “Is that your way of saying I’m looking rather handsome today?”

“I would, but I’m afraid that if I tend to your ego any further you will combust.” At that moment, Elizabeth reached the end of her rope and peeked over her shoulder down at Oliver.

He—being of a tall build—was able to reach her lower legs, though he really shouldn’t reach her legs. He stared at the brick wall in front of him, trying to work through the problem. In his mind, he thought he would just take hold of Elizabeth’s legs and let her slide down in his arms to the ground. But now, when faced with a very real Elizabeth, it felt too improper. And his racing heart wasn’t doing anything to help convince him otherwise.

“Lizzie, I think you should—” However, he didn’t have time to finish that sentence or formulate a new plan.

“I’m letting go,” she said, leaving him barely enough time to reach up and take hold of her legs. In a blink, she was sliding down through his arms until her feet gently and safely reached the ground. Oliver’s heart pounded against his chest as Elizabeth spun around, still encircled by his arms, and faced him. He was struck by how incredibly right it felt to hold her.

If he held her in his arms a moment longer, he would be forced to kiss the woman and show her just how wrong she had been. Like kissing her brother, indeed! In fact, Oliver was certain that a kiss shared with Elizabeth would be nothing short of devastating.

Using impressive amounts of will power, Oliver dropped his arms and took a small step back on the pretense of inspecting his jacket. “Well, I hope your shenanigan was worth it because I don’t think this jacket will ever recover. You ripped off a button.”

He heard her chuckle, but it sounded a little forced. Or was he just reading too much into her actions? Blast. He needed to get a hold of himself.

“It was more than worth it, believe me,” she said playfully. “Your button sacrificed itself for a noble cause.”

Oliver stopped pretending to care about his jacket and turned his attention back to Elizabeth. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm. He almost pulled her into an embrace to warm her, but he refrained. Instead, he squinted up at the top window. “Are you going to tell me what you have escaped from? Is using the door too much of a bore for you now?”

Her light pink lips pulled into a grin. “Doors are rather average. But, no. Mary has been put to bed.”

Oliver’s face sobered at the thought of Elizabeth’s older sister—who also felt very much like his older sister—taken ill. “Is everything all right with her and the baby?” Oliver knew that Mary was increasing and that she had lost a baby during her last pregnancy. Neither of those things were public knowledge, but Oliver had spent enough of his life at Dalton Park with Kensworth and his family that they considered Oliver one of their own and shared most everything with him. They loved him in a way that his own father never had.

“Thankfully, she and the baby are both well. However, she began to have a few startling pains after the ball a few nights ago, and the doctor thought it best for her to remain abed until her time comes. And you know how inept Mary is at sitting still.” Oliver couldn’t help but laugh at the way Elizabeth said those words—completely serious, and as if she was not exactly the same way.

“I’m failing to see where the window comes into play.”