To Catch A Suitor (Dalton Family 2)

The sound of footsteps approaching drew his eyes to the left outside the closet. Elizabeth and Lord Hastings were walking behind Lord and Lady Stanton, with the obnoxious Miss Barley on the other side of Lord Hastings. The two youngest ladies of the bunch had opted to remain outdoors and forgo the house tour. Rose and Kensworth were nowhere to be found. They were the very worst of chaperones.

But at this moment, Oliver was thankful for it.

He waited until the couples had passed by the closet and then licked his lips and quietly whistled a quick loopy sound that he hadn’t whistled in years. Would she remember their call? It was the secret signal he and Elizabeth had used when they had played hide-and-seek in the woods many years ago. Elizabeth—being much younger than he and her siblings—had a difficult time finding anyone when it was her turn to be the seeker. It always hurt Oliver to see her little face so sad when she would search and search to no avail. So he had concocted a secret whistle to help Elizabeth cheat and find him. Carver and Mary never caught on. Unfortunately, he had to be seeker more than he liked, but it was worth it to see her smile.

He wanted to see her smile again.

After his whistle faded into the air, soft and almost undetectable, he peeked through the crack. No one seemed to hear the sound, but Elizabeth’s body stiffened. She looked toward the ground, angling her ear back toward him. He smiled and waited.

She turned her head forward again and he felt his heart sink. Was she not going to acknowledge it? But then he heard her say, “Will you all excuse me? I?

??need to…slip away for a moment.”

“Shall I escort you?” said Lord Hastings. The blasted weasel. Oliver knew Hastings would like nothing more than to walk alone with Elizabeth.

“No,” she said firmly. But then he saw her shoulders relax. “I…need to seek out the water closet.” He didn’t need to look at Elizabeth to know her face was likely flaming. He grinned to himself. “You all go on ahead and I will rejoin you shortly.”

Lord Hastings looked just as uncomfortable receiving that bit of news as Elizabeth had giving it. He nodded and continued on with the rest of the group down the hall. Elizabeth turned toward the direction of the closet where Oliver was hiding. She glanced around hesitantly, taking a few steps until she was just outside of the closet and whispered, “Oliver? Was…was that you?”

He quickly thrust open the door, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the closet before pulling the door cracked again. He would have shut it completely but he wanted to be able to see her face.

“Oliver! What the devil are you doing?” She pressed her hand to her chest, breathing as if she had just outrun a lion.

“I need to speak with you,” he said.

“So you thought jumping out of a closet and giving me the fright of my life was the best way to go about it?”

He smirked. “Retaliation for all of the years you’ve jumped out at me.”

Her gorgeous light blue eyes looked fully into his and she smiled. Suddenly, he was aware of how small the closet was. She was standing close enough that he could easily lean down and kiss her without ever having to take a step.

No. I can’t do that.

But could he?

No.

He swallowed. “You remembered our secret call.”

Her lips pursed together and she took a deep breath. “Of course I did.” Her eyes held his for a moment and he debated brushing his fingers against hers. What would she think of a gesture like that? He was beginning to fear that if his heart raced any faster he was going to drop dead in that closet. She smelled like oranges and her skin looked soft.

Her expression, however, was cold as ice. When had this happened? Why was she so prickly toward him lately? Hatley’s words came to mind again.

Elizabeth is in love with you.

That made no sense. If Elizabeth were in love with him, wouldn’t her actions be the opposite of a mistreated porcupine ready to draw blood?

“What are we doing in here, Oliver?” asked Elizabeth, breaking eye contact to fidget with one of her gloves.

“I need to speak with you. And every time I try, Lord Hastings or Miss Barley gets in the way.” He peeked through the crack, a little fearful Miss Barley might have sniffed out his location. He considered taking her in lieu of a hound on a fox hunt. Her tracking abilities were unparalleled. “The woman won’t leave me alone.”

He looked back at Elizabeth and her blonde brows were pulled tightly together. “Getting in the way? What an interesting way to talk about a woman whom you are clearly mad for,” she said in an angry whisper.

He gaped at her. “Mad? For Miss Barley? Now, that’s madness.”

She narrowed those bright blue eyes at him, finally shedding some of the obnoxious proper lady facade she’d been wearing all day. “Admit it, Oliver,” she shoved her finger into his chest, “you’re in love with her and her beautiful eyelashes.”

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Beautiful! Good gracious, that can’t be what you believe?” Well, he supposed he could see how she might get the impression, since he had in fact been trying to avoid the painful sight of Elizabeth and Hastings by pouring his attention onto Miss Barley. That, however, had backfired terribly. Now, the woman seemed permanently stuck to him. He half expected to look over his shoulder and find her clinging to the back of his jacket. It seemed he would be giving her the “friend speech” in the near future.