Page 2 of Deceiving an Earl
“Meet me outside. Through there.” He tilted his chin toward a set of doors that he knew led to a terraced patio.
She nodded and turned away from him.
In order not to make things look odd, Oliver wandered through the ballroom and spoke to a few friends, extricating himself before he was caught up in some debate or good-natured ribbing.
Being outside, in the cool air, did nothing to clear his mind. His hands were sweating and his heart was pounding, but he had never been so sure of anything in his whole life.
He made his way to a darkened corner, dodging other couples standing close together or intertwined, and nervously waited for Ellen to appear.
Luckily it didn’t take her long. Unlike him, she didn’t hesitate or make it seem like she was just out for fresh air. She made her way straight to him.
“What is wrong?” she asked anxiously, looking up at him.
He took her hands in his and kissed her. The rigidness in her spine loosened until she melted against him, pliant beneath his hands, her lips molding to his.
He drew away, breathless.
“I want everyone to know about us, Ellen. I’m tired of hiding our relationship, of sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong when we’re not. We’re both adults. I am a viscount, someday to be an earl.” The thought of his father not being around sent a pain through his heart, but that was the reality of being an heir. “You are a lady, daughter of a baron. We are well-matched and well-suited.”
She squeezed his hands, her eyes glistening. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to declare my intentions to your father. I want to marry you, Ellen.”
Her eyes widened, and a slow smile broke across her face. “Oh, Oliver.”
“That is, if you will have me as your husband.”
“Of course. Yes! I want nothing more.”
“Then it is settled. I will talk to your father first thing tomorrow. And then we can start planning our future.”
She pressed his hand to her pounding heart. “I can scarcely believe this is true.”
“By the end of the summer we will be married.” The thought made his own heart pound in excitement. “I will take care of you, Ellen. I will always be here for you. You’ll never have anything to worry about.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. Tears of joy and laughter. She leaned against him, pressing her head to his chest. “I love you, Oliver, and I can’t wait to be your wife.”
“I love you too, Ellen.”
Chapter One
Seventeen Years Later
Typically, he wasn’t overly concerned about his appearance. But this evening wasn’t typical.
Was the scarlet waistcoat too much? Too…over the top?
Should he settle for the very staid, very traditional black?
His valet fit his black coat over his shoulders and brushed it clear of lint. Oliver McCaron, the Earl of Armbruster, thought about asking his valet, Richard, his opinion on the color of the waistcoat and decided to hell with it. He’d wear the red and damn anyone who thought he was too gauche.
It wasn’t as if he were attending a formal ball. It was just a salon filled with bohemians and others on the fringe of Society. They were hardly worthy enough to look down at his attire.
Except those weren’t the people he was concerned about.
“Concerned, my ass,” he muttered.
“Pardon, my lord?” Richard paused in his endless brushing.
