Read Online The Love Match (Entangled Scandalous) by Lily Maxton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lily Maxton
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“He did offer. I refused. I simply—” She breathed in, then out. “I wish to be left alone.”
She couldn’t bear it any longer. She couldn’t bear to see the four of them—her sisters with their husbands, the love that was so clear between them, the happiness she would never find.
She spun with the hem of her dress swishing around her and darted from the room, not stopping until she’d reached her bedchamber and slammed the door behind her.
She ate dinner on a tray that one of the housemaids brought up. Her mother wouldn’t have thought of it—one of her sisters must have ordered the food be sent to her. Between picking at the greasy mutton, staring at the ceiling, and trying to read a book, Olivia contemplated how much things had changed.
When she was young, she’d thought life would be the same forever, that she’d always be the girl trailing after her older sisters and hoping not to be left behind. But the point of life was that it wasn’t static. It was evolving constantly, and her sisters had gone in their own directions, and she couldn’t follow anymore.
But through all the change was one constant—love. Love bound them together, stronger than anything that separated them.
William had never had that constant. He’d only had a selfish mother and a father whose pain had overshadowed his son’s childhood. She almost felt sorry for him.
She still wanted to shake him, though.
A light rap sounded at the door.
“Yes?” she said, sitting up on the bed with her legs crooked under her.
“It’s Elizabeth. May I come in?”
She made a noise of assent, and Lizzie stepped in cautiously.
“Are you angry with us?”
“No. I’m angry with myself, I think,” she said.
Elizabeth sat down next to her, looking at the sad, torn apart piece of mutton on her plate. “Not enjoying your dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Her sister took her hand in a warm, reassuring grip. “You can talk to me about anything, dear.”
“I know.”
And they left it at that. Olivia wasn’t the type to spill all of her deepest secrets and desires at the merest indication of a listening ear, and Elizabeth wasn’t the type to pry.
Just then, Anne poked her head around the door. “What is this? A gathering I wasn’t invited to?”
“Olivia doesn’t wish to speak about Mr. Cross,” Lizzie said.
Her other sister sighed. “Oh, very well. Although I’m a bit put out that I’m so close to the scandal of the year and I really don’t know anything about it.”
“Surely what happened to Olivia isn’t the scandal of the year,” Elizabeth responded.
Anne raised her eyebrows.
Their older sister fell silent.
“We could place a wager,” Anne suggested. “How long do you think Thornhill and Mr. Cameron will last with our parents before fleeing to find us?”
Olivia felt a smile curving her lips. The first time she’d smiled that day. “Two minutes.”
Anne shook her head. “Michael will last longer. He’s too well-bred.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult my husband,” Lizzie drawled.
“It wasn’t an insult,” Anne protested with a laugh. “It simply means Thornhill will be wishing he could leave, but he won’t actually do it.”
They all laughed when, about two minutes later, they heard a disgruntled Mr. Cameron walk by in the hallway, muttering something about mad mothers-in-law.
…
During the next week, William discovered there were some things a man couldn’t get foxed enough to forget. Such as the way Olivia had looked when she’d turned down his offer—fragile but defiant, with something elusive in her eyes, flickering past the sheen of tears.
He’d dwelled on that expression all week, trying to figure out what it was. It had come to him one night as he’d lain awake, alone in his bed, wishing Olivia was there beside him, for he’d grown used to her presence next to him, the warmth of her body curled into his.
It had been disappointment.
She had expected more from him,
She couldn’t bear it any longer. She couldn’t bear to see the four of them—her sisters with their husbands, the love that was so clear between them, the happiness she would never find.
She spun with the hem of her dress swishing around her and darted from the room, not stopping until she’d reached her bedchamber and slammed the door behind her.
She ate dinner on a tray that one of the housemaids brought up. Her mother wouldn’t have thought of it—one of her sisters must have ordered the food be sent to her. Between picking at the greasy mutton, staring at the ceiling, and trying to read a book, Olivia contemplated how much things had changed.
When she was young, she’d thought life would be the same forever, that she’d always be the girl trailing after her older sisters and hoping not to be left behind. But the point of life was that it wasn’t static. It was evolving constantly, and her sisters had gone in their own directions, and she couldn’t follow anymore.
But through all the change was one constant—love. Love bound them together, stronger than anything that separated them.
William had never had that constant. He’d only had a selfish mother and a father whose pain had overshadowed his son’s childhood. She almost felt sorry for him.
She still wanted to shake him, though.
A light rap sounded at the door.
“Yes?” she said, sitting up on the bed with her legs crooked under her.
“It’s Elizabeth. May I come in?”
She made a noise of assent, and Lizzie stepped in cautiously.
“Are you angry with us?”
“No. I’m angry with myself, I think,” she said.
Elizabeth sat down next to her, looking at the sad, torn apart piece of mutton on her plate. “Not enjoying your dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Her sister took her hand in a warm, reassuring grip. “You can talk to me about anything, dear.”
“I know.”
And they left it at that. Olivia wasn’t the type to spill all of her deepest secrets and desires at the merest indication of a listening ear, and Elizabeth wasn’t the type to pry.
Just then, Anne poked her head around the door. “What is this? A gathering I wasn’t invited to?”
“Olivia doesn’t wish to speak about Mr. Cross,” Lizzie said.
Her other sister sighed. “Oh, very well. Although I’m a bit put out that I’m so close to the scandal of the year and I really don’t know anything about it.”
“Surely what happened to Olivia isn’t the scandal of the year,” Elizabeth responded.
Anne raised her eyebrows.
Their older sister fell silent.
“We could place a wager,” Anne suggested. “How long do you think Thornhill and Mr. Cameron will last with our parents before fleeing to find us?”
Olivia felt a smile curving her lips. The first time she’d smiled that day. “Two minutes.”
Anne shook her head. “Michael will last longer. He’s too well-bred.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult my husband,” Lizzie drawled.
“It wasn’t an insult,” Anne protested with a laugh. “It simply means Thornhill will be wishing he could leave, but he won’t actually do it.”
They all laughed when, about two minutes later, they heard a disgruntled Mr. Cameron walk by in the hallway, muttering something about mad mothers-in-law.
…
During the next week, William discovered there were some things a man couldn’t get foxed enough to forget. Such as the way Olivia had looked when she’d turned down his offer—fragile but defiant, with something elusive in her eyes, flickering past the sheen of tears.
He’d dwelled on that expression all week, trying to figure out what it was. It had come to him one night as he’d lain awake, alone in his bed, wishing Olivia was there beside him, for he’d grown used to her presence next to him, the warmth of her body curled into his.
It had been disappointment.
She had expected more from him,
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