To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

Oliver walked outside in the direction of Elizabeth’s favorite oak tree. It wasn’t far from Dalton House, but it was tucked far enough away that you couldn’t see it from the windows of the manor. Elizabeth had found the tree when she was ten years old and claimed it as her own. She said it spoke to her, and therefore it belonged to her. It was difficult to believe that had been eight years ago.

She was a woman now. And because of that, Oliver had mentally promised to keep his distance from Elizabeth during his summer holiday. Kensworth still wouldn’t return home with him, so he felt as if he didn’t have anyone to create the much—needed barrier between him and Elizabeth. Every one of the Ashburns saw Oliver as family—and because of it, no threat to Elizabeth whatsoever. Which was why he was allowed to venture outside, as he was at that moment, prepared for a picnic and looking for Elizabeth, with the blessings of both duke and duchess.

They wouldn’t have given him that blessing if they could have read his thoughts anytime Elizabeth stepped into a room.

But still, he loved the duke and duchess as his own parents—actually, he didn’t love his own father, so he loved them as something different. Something stronger. He would never do anything to lose their trust.

Oliver’s boots crunched over the tall green blades of grass, every step sounding remarkably like a laugh. A mocking laugh saying that he never stood a chance at staying away from his beautiful and enjoyable friend for an entire summer. No—in fact, he’d spent nearly the entirety of every day in Elizabeth’s company. Mornings, they spent together riding. The afternoons, taking walks together or playing cards with Kate. And the evenings, reading by candlelight in the library while the duke and duchess played chess nearby.

Elizabeth’s tall tree came into view. It was a peculiar tree, split down the middle, but the two halves were joined together by a small plank of wood he had nailed into the tree to create a secret hiding place for Elizabeth during his first summer at Dalton Park. The sun was golden and there wasn’t a cloud in sight, so he knew he would find Elizabeth on the opposite side of the tree, resting her back against the trunk.

He smiled when he approached and saw a slip of green fabric and a bare foot poking out from behind the tree, boots and stockings discarded haphazardly across the ground. Oliver rounded the tree and found Elizabeth exactly as he suspected he would—asleep, bonnet cast even farther away than her boots, a book in her limp hand on the ground, a faint pink strip forming on the bridge of her nose.

Oliver gently used his boot to nudge her bare toes. A small slow smile pulled at one corner of her mouth, but her eyes didn’t open. “Oliver,” she said in little more than whisper.

His heart shook to life. “Yes?”

This time she jumped and opened her eyes as if she only just now realized he was standing in front of her. So then why had she just—

“Oliver!” she sat up straighter and touched her hand to her wild curls that had come loose from the knot behind her head and then crinkled her nose, evidently noticing the crispness of her skin. “Oh, drat. How long have I been out here?”

He chuckled, retrieved her bonnet, and tossed it in her lap. “Hours.”

She pulled a frown and put the bonnet on her head, leaving the ribbons hanging untied. “I never know how I manage to fall asleep.” She always said that after he found her this way. A

n afternoon nap was never what she intended. But the warm summer sun never failed to lull her into slumber. Oliver attributed it to the fact that Elizabeth awoke before the sun and spent nearly all of the day in constant motion. Sleep was something that must only ever sneak up on her.

“One might assume it begins with closing your eyes.”

She flashed him an annoyed look and pretended to kick him. He dodged it and chuckled. “Have you brought something delicious inside that bag, or are you simply carrying it as your newest accessory?”

He held himself a little taller, satchel hanging off his shoulder, and pretended to strut. “It’s all the rage in Town. What do you think?” Oliver looked down his nose at her and she suppressed a smile.

“I think you’re an infantile dunderhead carrying an ugly satchel.”

He feigned reproach and clutched the bag. “Now I’m definitely not going to share my delicious food with you.”

Her blue eyes glittered. “I knew you brought me something.”

“I did. But I fully intend to eat it all myself now.”

“You are going to make me apologize, aren’t you?”

“To the satchel.”

Her mouth cracked with a slight grin but she controlled it. “Very well.” She looked at the bag. “Do forgive me, satchel. I was most unkind and I regret my poor manners deeply.”

He smiled, enjoying their games a little too much. Elizabeth never found herself important as the other women of Society did. She never shied away from a playful exchange. She never smothered her laugh. Elizabeth was…wonderful.

Oliver plopped down on the ground beside her and began digging through the contents of the satchel. He removed a small sandwich wrapped in linen and handed it to Elizabeth. Their hands touched when she took the offering from him and just that small contact sent a jolt through his body. He wasn’t supposed to feel that way about her.

He swallowed and turned his full attention to removing the wrapping from his own sandwich.

She gasped after unwrapping her sandwich. “Cucumbers!”

“Oh, here. I gave you mine by mistake.”

They exchanged again but, this time, he was careful not to come into contact with her. He couldn’t help but smile when she blew out a long dramatic puff of air. “I was fearful for a moment that you had forgotten my dislike of that horrid green fruit.”