To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

Who was this he? If Elizabeth pressed her ear any harder into that door she was going to fall right through it.

“Oh, you know Oliver…” Oliver! Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from audibly gasping. She, without a doubt, had heard her name mentioned a moment ago. Did that mean that Carver had asked Oliver about her? “He’s not one to be tied down. I think even just the question made him feel faint.” What question?

“Really?” Rose sounded a little sad. There was a pause before she spoke again, sounding more energetic than before. “Well…perhaps you misunderstood him. Tell me your conversation, word for word.” Bless her. Elizabeth wanted to fling open the door and hug her sister-in-law for requiring such clarity.

“I asked, ‘Do you love Elizabeth?’ To which he responded, ‘No.’ I hardly think there is room to misconstrue his words.” Elizabeth’s heart dropped. There was her answer. Oliver didn’t love her. Hearing the words out loud hurt more than she had thought possible.

“Did he say why he didn’t love her? Did he give a reason?” asked Rose.

Carver gave a short soft laugh. “May I know why you are so inquisitive about this topic, Mrs. Bow Street Runner? Is there something I should know?”

Elizabeth held her breath, wondering if this was the moment Rose would disregard her promise and break confidence.

Rose chuckled, sounding completely at ease, the exact opposite of how Elizabeth felt. “Nothing to tell. I suppose I’m just a little disappointed by this news. I’ll admit I’ve been hoping that Oliver and Elizabeth would make a match of it.”

Elizabeth heard Carver let out a strong breath. She could picture him running his hands through his hair, as he did when he felt overwhelmed. “I’ve been hoping for that same thing.” This was news to Elizabeth. “Oliver has always taken excellent care of Elizabeth. I know she would be safe with him.” Oh.

Of course that would be the reason he wanted Elizabeth and Oliver to marry. Not because she had anything to offer, but so that Oliver could be a guardian for her for the rest of her life. He and Mary must be in cahoots.

The weight of her feelings pressed hard on her heart, forcing her to acknowledge them—something she wasn’t even sure how to do. She pushed away from the door and quickly walked back to her room. Only after she was safely inside with the door shut did she allow a tear to fall down her cheek. She pressed her back to the door and shut her eyes against the emotions swirling within.

Oliver doesn’t love me.

Well. At least now she knew for sure. There would be no more wondering. Easier to move on this way. She swatted away a tear and looked around her room without really seeing it. Her mind constantly switched tracks, between unwanted emotion and options for her future. Firm in her belief that feelings were nothing but thorns in the flesh sent to remind a fallen humanity of their sin, Elizabeth pulled herself together and pushed away from the wall. She decided to put everything she had into carving out her future—without Oliver.

Elizabeth felt a new resolve. She would put Oliver out of her heart. She would find someone else to love her. And she absolutely would not end the Season a pitiful woman, pining over a man who didn’t love her.

Elizabeth moved across her room and threw open the doors of her wardrobe so aggressively that her hair blew away from her face. If only Kate were there to see her—she would have been so proud. Elizabeth reached inside and removed the turquoise gown. She took in a deep breath and held it as she firmed her resolve that, tonight, she would finally wear the gown that made her feel like a trifling bit of shrubbery.

Chapter Seven

Oliver stood outside Kensworth house for the second time that day. This time, however, was different because he knew Elizabeth was somewhere on the other side of the door. And he knew her beauty would take his breath and he would have to, once again, smother his inconvenient feelings for her.

He cleared his throat, feeling bot

h his nerves and his cravat strain at the effort. He was being ridiculous. What did he have to be nervous about? This was Elizabeth—his Elizabeth. His dearest friend, his most beloved confidant.

But—no, not his Elizabeth. Yes, she was still the same Elizabeth with whom he had spent countless hours, the same Elizabeth in whose boots he had once put worms, the same Elizabeth with whom he had cheated at hide-and-seek. But there, once again, was the problem. Elizabeth may have been the same girl, but she certainly did not look like her anymore. He needed to find a way to the more simple feelings he had had for her when they were children. Perhaps if he forced himself to picture her with bows tied at the ends of her braids, like she had as a girl, it would help him to put these feelings behind him and he could finally move on.

Something inside him whispered that he hadn’t felt normal around Elizabeth for three years now, but he firmly—and finally—ignored it.

Oliver felt the tension in his shoulders ease the moment he stepped through the door of Dalton Park. It was Oliver’s seventh summer at the park, but his first one without Kensworth at his side. Oliver understood why Kensworth didn’t want to go home. The unexpected death of his fiancée was still fresh and, since it had taken place on the grounds of Dalton Park, his friend couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere near it. Kensworth had moved to London and Oliver had followed him there.

But it was summer time and Kensworth had given Oliver his blessing to return to Dalton Park without him, for which Oliver was grateful since it had become home to him in a way he’d never experienced before. He had missed the room that had been his ever since his first holiday there. He had missed the duke and duchess. He had missed Kate. And he had missed Elizabeth.

She, especially, was like the little sister he had never had. She was full of fun and pluck and just the right amount of obnoxiousness to keep things interesting. Sometimes Kensworth found Elizabeth to be a pest, always following them around the grounds and inserting herself into their activities. Oliver, however, never felt that way. He didn’t mind spending his days with little Lizzie. She had been darling, with her bouncing curls and endless zeal for life.

After greeting the duke and duchess, Oliver made his way up the wide staircase of Dalton Park, feeling his burdens melt away with every step. It had been that way since he was a young buck. The duke and duchess fostered an environment of love and peacefulness in their home—so different from anything he had ever felt in his own home. Pembroke had felt like a prison from the day Mama died. Of course, Frank Turner had still been every bit as hateful and violent before Mama died as well—but Mama had shielded Oliver from most of the man’s anger.

Now, there was no love contained within the walls of Pembroke, which was why Oliver had decided, after his last trip to visit his father, that he would never return. Unfortunately, what he hoped would be a cathartic trip to confront Frank Turner ended up being a hopeless journey that ended with him feeling more fearful than when he started. As much as he wanted to have outgrown being so affected by his father’s bullying—he hadn’t. Frank Turner had still gotten into his head, and now he feared he would never be rid of that hateful voice.

But he didn’t want to think about Pembroke or Frank Turner now. And he certainly didn’t want to think about the last words his father spat at him on his way out. No, Oliver would not pollute Dalton Park with even a hint of his father’s influence.

He reached out and traced a path with his fingers over the wood molding lining the walls of the hallway that led to his room. So much time had been spent here that he could find his way around with his eyes closed. It felt quieter, though, without Kensworth. Normally, they would have so much pent up energy from a long journey that they would spend most of their walk to their rooms wrestling down the halls.

And usually Elizabeth would have been waiting for them by the front door. Where was she?

Oliver stopped in front of his door and smiled. It was good to be home.