Page 37 of House of Thorns
There he was, as if summoned by her thoughts. The man himself: Lord Randall. He stood just a few yards away, elegantly dressed in tanned breeches, fine polished black leather boots and black velvet top hat.
“Are you avoiding me, Miss Mackenzie?” he teased, inviting himself to join her under the tree.
Did wishing to avoid himnowcount? Olivia forced herself to smile—he was a customer, after all. “No, my lord.”
“Every time I visit the shop, I find you’re not there,” he explained, even though she hadn’t asked.
He’d been coming to the shop? Why did she find that disturbing? “How can I help you, my lord? Are you looking for something in particular?”
He smiled, an easy smile, and one obviously of the flirtatious kind. “Perhaps, I did not visit for the music.”
Olivia took an unwitting step back. The slight muscle twitch on his jaw informed her he’d noticed.
“Miss Mackenzie,” a new voice hailed her from behind.
It was Nicholas, ducking under the trailing branches to join her and looking handsomer than ever in his gray breeches and a dark silk cravat, intricately tied.
“Randall,” he grated, his tone announcing it was scarcely a greeting.
“Blair,” Lord Randall acknowledged through clenched teeth.
The two men stared at each in grim distaste. Clearly, something stood between them, but that was no business of hers. She had pressing matters of her own.
Olivia cleared her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen? I must be going.”
Nicholas’s eyes shifted to hers, at once. “My carriage awaits.”
“Allow me, Miss Mackenzie,” Lord Randall said at the same time.
“I can walk on my own, thank you,” she said to them both, stepping through the willow branches.
Nicholas caught up with her before she got halfway across the lawn. “I shall accompany you, Olivia.”
She didn’t need to turn around to know Lord Randall watched her by the willows. She felt his eyes boring through the back of her head.
“Shall we?” Nicholas murmured, offering his arm.
She should have merely thanked him, of course, and then promptly left, alone, but then, he looped her arm through his. The muscles resting beneath her fingertips were stone hard, warm, and imbued with the power to sweep all other thoughts away—even the most worrisome ones.
A flush of warmth snaked down her spine as they left the grounds, heading back to Glasgow Green.
At the edge of the park, she regained her presence of mind. “Thank you, but truly, I’ve no need for an escort.”
“I quite disagree.”
He towered over her. She’d known he was tall, of course, but now, he seemed doubly so. She frowned at her beating heart and schooled her thoughts. He was meant for her cousin. He belonged to Deborah. As much as she found it depressing, it was time to distance herself, set boundaries.
“I understand,” she said, adopting a formal tone. “Soon, we’ll be family, will we not? As my cousin, you’ll—”
“That’s utter tripe,” he interrupted with a snort.
“I beg your pardon?”
He stopped in his tracks and peered down at her, looking rather irritated. “You know very well I’m not the father of her child.”
Oh, how she didn’t want him to be. Desire flared. She grimaced.Thatwouldn’t do. “The roof.” The words had scarcely left her mouth before she winced. Why was she speaking of the roof, precisely now?
“Aye?” Nicholas cocked a brow.
