Ten Things I Love About You (7 page)

Five minutes earlier

I
t’s really too bad you married my cousin,” Sebastian murmured, steering Olivia away from an enormous pile of horse dung that someone had failed to clean up. “I think you might be the perfect woman.”

Olivia glanced over at him with a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Because I allow you to eat breakfast at my house every morning?”

“Ah, you couldn’t have put an end to that,” Seb replied, giving her a twist of a smile. “The habit was far too entrenched before you entered the scene.”

“Because I didn’t scold you for the three dozen dart holes on the back of the guest-bedroom door?”

“All Edward’s fault. I have perfect aim.”

“Still, Sebastian, it’s a
leased
house.”

“I know, I know. Odd that you kept it this year. Don’t you want to be a bit farther from your parents?”

When Olivia had married Sebastian’s cousin Harry, she had moved into his home, which was directly next door to her family’s London house. They had conducted half of their courtship through their windows. Sebastian found the story rather charming.

“I like my parents,” Olivia said.

Sebastian shook his head. “A concept so alien I think it must be unpatriotic.”

Olivia turned to him with some surprise. “I know that Harry’s parents were—” She gave her head a little shake. “Well, never mind. But I hadn’t thought that yours were so dreadful.”

“They’re not. But I wouldn’t
choose
to spend time with them.” Sebastian considered this. “Especially my father. As he’s dead.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “There must be something in that statement that will get you banned from church.”

“It’s too late for that,” Seb murmured.

“I think you need a wife,” Olivia said, turning to him with strategically narrowed eyes.

“You are in danger of losing your status as the perfect woman,” he warned.

“You never did tell me what I had done to earn it.”

“First and foremost was your heretofore restraint at nagging me about marrying.”

“I shan’t apologize.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. “But there is also your sublime penchant for not being shocked at anything I say.”

“Oh, I’m shocked,” Olivia said. “I just hide it well.”

“Just as good,” Seb told her.

They walked for a few moments, and then she said it again. “You
should
marry, you know.”

“Have I given any indication that I’m avoiding it?”

“Well,” Olivia said slowly, “you haven’t taken a wife …”

“Merely because I haven’t found the perfect woman.” He gave her a bland smile. “Alas, Harry got to you first.”

“Not to mention that you’ll do better if you marry before your uncle begets himself another heir.”

Sebastian turned to her with perfectly feigned shock. “Why, Olivia Valentine, that is positively mercenary of you.”

“It’s true.”

“I’m such a gamble,” Sebastian said with a sigh.

“You are!” Olivia exclaimed, with enough excitement that he thought he might be frightened. “That is exactly what you are! You are a gamble. A risk. A—”

“You overwhelm me with compliments.”

Olivia ignored him. “Trust me when I tell you that all of the young ladies would prefer you to your uncle.”

“Again, the compliments.”

“But if he gets an heir, you get nothing. So do they take a risk with you? The handsome rogue who might inherit or the portly earl who already has the title?”

“That is about as kind a description as I have ever heard applied to my uncle.”

“Many would choose the bird in hand, but others would think, ‘If I bide my time, I could have the handsome rogue
and
the title.’”

“You make your gender sound so appealing.”

Olivia shrugged. “We can’t all marry for love.” And then, just when he’d decided this ought to depress him, she patted his arm and said, “But you should. You’re far too lovely not to.”

“And again, I am convinced,” Seb murmured. “The perfect woman.”

Olivia gave him a sickly smile.

“Do tell,” Sebastian said, steering her away from another disgusting pile, this time of the canine variety, “where is the perfect woman’s perfect husband? Or in other words, why did you require my services this fine morning? Other than to hone your matchmaking skills, of course.”

“Harry is deep in his current project. He won’t see the light of day for a week at least, and I”—she patted her belly, just rounded enough to indicate her pregnancy—”needed air.”

“Still working on the Sarah Gorely novels?” he asked casually.

Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but before she could make a sound, the air was cracked by the sound of gunshot.

“What the hell was that?” Sebastian almost yelled. Good Lord, they were in the bloody
park.
He looked around him, aware that his head was jerking back and forth like some half-mad horizontal jack-in-the-box. But his heart was pounding, and the damned sound of the shot was still echoing in his head, and—

“Sebastian,” Olivia said gently. And then:
“Sebastian.”

“What?”

“My arm,” she said.

He saw her swallow, then looked down. He was clutching her forearm with a ferocious grip. He let go immediately. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t realize.”

She smiled weakly and rubbed the spot with her other hand. “It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing, but he didn’t want to go into it. “Who is shooting in the park?” he asked irritably.

“I believe there is some sort of competition,” Olivia said. “Edward mentioned it to me this morning.”

Sebastian shook his head. A shooting competition in Hyde Park. Right during the busiest time of the day. The foolishness of his fellow man never ceased to amaze him.

“Are you all right?” Olivia asked.

He turned, wondering what she thought she was talking about.

“The noise,” she clarified.

“It’s nothing.” “It’s not—”

“It’s nothing,” he said curtly. And then, because
he felt like an ass for using such a tone of voice, he added, “I was taken by surprise.”

It was true. He could sit and listen to guns exploding all day as long as he knew it was coming. Hell, he could probably sleep through the cacophony, assuming he was able to fall asleep in the first place. It was just when he wasn’t expecting it. He
hated
being taken by surprise.

That, he thought dryly, had been
his
job.
Señor Sniper.
Death by surprise.

Señor
Sniper. Hmmm. Maybe he should take up Spanish.

“Sebastian?”

He looked over at Olivia, who was still regarding him with some concern. He wondered if Harry had reactions like these, too; if his heart raced like a rabbit at unexpected noises. Harry hadn’t said anything, but then again, Seb hadn’t, either.

It was a stupid thing to talk about.

“I’m fine,” he said to Olivia, this time in a considerably more typical tone of voice. “As I said, it was just the surprise of it.”

Another gunshot cracked in the distance, and Seb didn’t even flinch. “See?” he said. “Nothing to it. Now then, what were we talking about?”

“I have no idea,” Olivia admitted.

Seb thought for a moment. He didn’t remember, either.

“Oh, the Gorely books,” Olivia exclaimed. “You had asked about Harry’s work on them.”

“Right.” Funny that he’d forget that. “How is it coming along?”

“Quite well, I think.” Olivia gave a little shrug.
“He complains all the time, but I think he secretly adores them.”

Sebastian perked up. “Really?”

“Well, perhaps not
adores.
He still thinks they’re dreadful. But he adores translating them. It’s ever so much more fun than the War Office documents were.”

Not the most ringing of endorsements, but Seb could not take offense. “Perhaps Harry ought to turn them into French when he’s done.”

Olivia frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps he will. I don’t know that he’s ever taken something and translated it into two separate languages. I imagine he’d enjoy the challenge.”

“He does have a ferociously mathematical brain,” Sebastian murmured.

“I know.” Olivia shook her head. “It’s a wonder we have anything to talk about. I—Oh! Don’t look now, but someone is pointing at you.”

“Female, I hope?”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “They’re always female, Sebastian. It’s”—she squinted—”Lady Louisa McCann, I think.”

“Who?”

“The Duke of Fenniwick’s daughter. She’s very sweet.”

Sebastian thought for a moment. “The thin one who doesn’t say much?”

“You have such a way with words.”

Seb smiled slowly. “I do, don’t I?”

“Don’t scare her, Sebastian,” Olivia admonished.

He turned to her with not entirely unfeigned indignation. “Scare her? Me?”

“Your charm can be terrifying.”

“I suppose if you put it that way I cannot help but be complimented.”

Olivia gave him a dry smile.

“May I look now?” he inquired. Because it was starting to grow tedious, this pretending not to know he was being pointed at.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’ve already waved. I don’t know the other one, though.”

Sebastian hadn’t had his back to the approaching pair, so he only needed to do a quarter turn to face them. Still, he was extremely glad that this movement turned him away from Olivia, because when he saw who was walking toward him—

He liked to consider himself a master at maintaining his unflappable façade, but even he had his limits.

“Do you know her?” Olivia asked.

Sebastian shook his head as he watched her, his curly-haired goddess with the gorgeous pink mouth. “Not at all,” he murmured.

“She must be new,” Olivia said with a slight shrug. She waited patiently for the two ladies to finish crossing the distance, then smiled. “Ah, Lady Louisa, it is so good to see you again.”

Lady Louisa returned the greeting, but Sebastian wasn’t paying attention. He was far more interested in watching the other one studiously trying to avoid eye contact with him.

He kept his own gaze on her face, just to make it all that more difficult.

“Have you met my dear cousin, Mr. Grey?” Olivia said to Lady Louisa.

“Er, I believe we have been introduced,” Lady Louisa responded.

“It’s silly of me to even ask,” Olivia said. She turned to Sebastian with a hint of sly mischief in her eyes. “You’ve been introduced to everyone, haven’t you, Sebastian?”

“Almost,” he said dryly.

“Oh, do forgive me,” Lady Louisa said. “May I present my, er—” She coughed. “Excuse me. Sorry. It must have been dust in my throat.” She motioned to the woman at her side. “Lady Olivia, Mr. Grey, this is Miss Winslow.”

“Miss Winslow,” Olivia said. “How nice to meet you. Are you new to town?”

Miss Winslow bobbed a polite curtsy. “I am. Thank you for asking.”

Sebastian smiled and murmured her name, and then, because he knew it would befuddle her, took her hand and kissed it. It was at times like these he was rather grateful for his reputation. Olivia wouldn’t think twice about his flirtatiousness.

Miss Winslow, however, colored the most charming shade of pink. She was even more fetching by the light of day, he decided. Her eyes were a very nice shade of greenish gray. Combined with the rest of her coloring, it almost made her look a bit Spanish. And he rather liked the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She would have looked far too sultry without them.

He also approved of her emerald-green walking costume. It suited her far better than whatever pastel she’d been wearing the night before.

But he could not allow his perusal to last overlong.
She might read too much into it, and besides, he mustn’t ignore her friend. He turned away from Miss Winslow without even a pretense of lingering. “Lady Louisa,” he said with a polite bow of his head. “How lovely to see you again. I am bereft that our paths have not crossed thus far this season.”

“It does seem to be an uncommonly large crowd this year,” Olivia said. “Did no one decide to skip?” She turned to Lady Louisa. “I’ve been away for several weeks, so I’m hopelessly out of date.”

“Were you in the country?” Lady Louisa asked politely.

“Yes, in Hampshire. My husband had some important work, and he finds it difficult to concentrate in town.”

“My fault,” Sebastian chimed in.

“Note that I do not contradict,” Olivia said lightly. She motioned toward him with a tilt of her head. “He’s terribly distracting.”

Sebastian could not let that pass. “It’s one of my finest attributes.”

“Pay attention to nothing he says,” Olivia said with a shake of her head. She turned back to the young ladies and began to chatter on about something or another, and Sebastian was left with the most unfamiliar sense of irritation. He could not begin to count the number of times Olivia had made a comment like
Pay attention to nothing he says.

This was, however, the first time that it bothered him.

“Are you enjoying your time in London, Miss Winslow?” Olivia asked.

Sebastian turned to Miss Winslow and regarded her with a bland smile. He was most interested in her answer.

“Er, yes,” Miss Winslow stammered. “It is most diverting.”

“Diverting,” Sebastian murmured. “What an interesting word.”

She looked up at him in alarm. He merely smiled.

“Will you remain in town for the rest of the season, Lady Olivia?” Lady Louisa asked.

“I think so. It depends upon whether my husband is able to concentrate with so many distractions.”

“What
is
Sir Harry working on?” Sebastian asked, since Olivia had never got around to telling him which novel Harry was translating. “I tried to pester him this morning, but he waved me off.” He looked over at Miss Winslow and Lady Louisa and said, “One would think he didn’t like me.”

Lady Louisa giggled. Miss Winslow maintained her stony expression.

“My husband is a translator,” Olivia told the ladies, dismissing Sebastian with a roll of her eyes. “Right now he is translating a novel into Russian.”

“Really?” Miss Winslow asked, and Sebastian had to admit, she sounded sincerely interested. “Which novel?”