Page 15 of Anastasia and the Duke
"You are not convinced?" Charlotte smiled up at him.
"Far from it," Oliver huffed, though his eyes could not help but be drawn back toward the young woman. She had the sort of face that drew one's eye unwittingly; her cheekbones were high, her features delicate, and the light of her eyes was visible even from a distance. She looked vaguely familiar, and, for a moment, Oliver was struck by the notion that this woman might be his thief, but he quickly pushed the thought away. His fixation was beginning to addle his brain.
"What does Morris have to say about this?" he continued, gruffly, "That woman could be anyone. I don't think the earl would stand for his mother dragging some estuary-waif about the place and introducing her as her granddaughter."
"Eloise has not shared her beliefs with anyone except me," Charlotte cautioned, placing a hand on his arm, "Everyone else here believes that the girl is simply a guest of Lady Lansdowne's. I pray, Ollie, do not make a scene. Besides..."
"I'm waiting," Oliver stated impatiently, as his grandmother fell silent.
"Miss Blackmore seems like a perfectly lovely young woman," Charlotte shrugged, "She is not trying to trick or deceive Eloise; in fact, she seems more keen to dissuade her of her notion. It is strange though, how alike she is to Giselle..."
Oliver had the good grace to hold back the epithet which danced on the tip of his tongue, though he could not refrain from rolling his eyes.
"Stranger things have happened, dear," the duchess scolded, her eyes alight with the fantasy of it all.
"No, they have not," Oliver was firm, "Both you and Lady Lansdowne have taken leave of your senses--this woman could be anyone; a thief or a charlatan. I shall have to inform Morris."
"No, you will not."
Charlotte was rarely cross, so the sharpness in her tone gave Oliver cause to pause. Her eyes, the same stormy-blue as his own, glared at him defiantly, and she placed two hands upon her hips.
"I forbid you to, Hawkfield," she said, her use of his title demonstrating just how serious she was, "Even if Miss Blackmore is not Anastasia, her presence has lifted Eloise's spirits enormously. Morris might be odious and self-serving, but he was right about his mother needing company. You will not interfere, or you will have me to answer to."
Though he was not fond of taking orders, Oliver did know when to retreat in battle. Now was not the time to convince his grandmother--or Lady Lansdowne--that they were wrong. It would be best to monitor matters quietly, and discreetly remove Miss Blackmore from her position when the time came.
The woman was no doubt a charlatan, who could not believe her good luck at having encountered not one, but two, flibbertigibbets in his mother and Lady Lansdowne.
"Fine," Oliver huffed, "But I shall want to keep an eye on her. Have her seated next to me at dinner. I wish to learn more about this woman, if I am to be an accomplice to this charade."
"Don't be ridiculous," Charlotte snorted, "People will think I have taken leave of my senses. I shall have her moved as close to you as possible, but that will have to suffice."
Thus, when the gong sounded out for supper, Oliver--at the head of the table--found himself seated several seats away from Miss Blackmore. To his right sat Lady Tabitha, of the unfortunate ears, to his left, Lady Mary of the unfortunate morals, while Miss Blackmore was seated modestly in the middle of the table, beside the dashing Captain Edgeworth.
As the first course was served, Lady Mary began to flirt outrageously with Oliver, while Lady Tabitha began an exceedingly dull conversation about her begonias. Oliver paid as little attention as was acceptable to either lady, preferring instead to glare down the table at Miss Blackmore.
Captain Edgeworth appeared to be a most amusing fellow, for the chit spent the entire first and second course laughing prettily at whatever he was saying. By the third course, Mr Galhurst, a rising politician, had joined the fray, and Oliver was then forced to watch two men fight over the flame-haired beauty's attention.
A feeling stirred in his belly, which for a moment Oliver presumed to be indigestion, but when it persisted all the way through the fourth course and increased every time he caught Miss Blackmore sharing a smile, he realised that it was, in fact, jealousy.
Which was confusing, for as a duke, Oliver rarely had cause to feel jealous of anyone, and as he had never even spoken with Miss Blackmore, he could not understand the possessive urge which overtook him when he looked at her.
"Thank heaven for that," a sulky Lady Mary murmured, as the servants swept in to take away the dessert plates.
The young beauty was obviously put out that Oliver had not paid her any attention, and even Lady Tabitha appeared glad to be relieved of his company. The two ladies scurried away from the table as soon as they could, leaving Oliver alone.
"You don't usually have that effect on women," Charlotte noted, as she sidled up to him, "You seem to be losing your touch. Or, perhaps, they were put-out by your interest in Miss Blackmore."
"I was simply keeping an eye on her, lest she made off with the silverware," Oliver responded, dryly, though inwardly he was horrified that his infatuation had been so obvious.
"Of course, dear," Charlotte smiled, as she drifted away toward her guests.
The set of double doors which led from the dining room to the receiving room were thrown open, and the guests milled about chatting to each other before they departed for home. Oliver was keen to catch Miss Blackmore alone, but she was stuck to Lady Lansdowne's side like a limpet, and each time he tried to catch her gaze, she resolutely turned her head.
If Oliver didn't know any better, he'd think Miss Blackmore was deliberately avoiding him.
As the guests began to slowly trickle out, Lady Lansdowne became engaged in a lengthy goodbye with Lord Picklehurst--a famed rake, even at eighty--and Oliver spotted his chance.
"I don't believe we have been introduced," Oliver said, in a low voice, as he slipped into the spot that Lady Lansdowne had just vacated, "I am Hawkfield."
