Page 56 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
Another glance passed between them. “Olivia, there’s something else,” Gran finally said, raising her eyebrows at George.
“What?” Oh, she hated being in the dark like this.
George cleared her throat. “You know how Liam goes on about being the caretaker of the Hall?”
Liv nodded, holding her breath.
“That’s because we, uh, knew the previous owner. Really well. Actually, we’re related.”
They were? That explained so much. She could just see the portly widower in his sixties, grateful to have distant relatives like Liam and George helping out as they did. No wonder they knew so much about the Hall.
As George kept speaking, a yell came from outside followed by a clanking sound. Her ears pricked, zoning in on outside rather than what George was saying.
“Did you hear that?” Liv interrupted.
“Hear what?”
She moved to the window to see Liam had fallen from a ladder. “Oh my gosh!”
Without waiting for the others, she rushed from the room and out the front entrance, then sped around the side, through the hedge, and down the steps to where he lay sprawled, flat on his back, near the fountain.
“Oh, Liam! Are you hurt?” She knelt beside him.
“Huh?”
She leaned closer. Touched his tanned cheek. “Are you hurt?”
He blinked at her. And she suddenly realized just how long his eyelashes were. How his eyes held glints of gold amid the stormy blue. How he had a tiny scar beside his mouth.
“What … what are you doing?”
Oh. She withdrew her hand. He didn’t like her touching him. She’d forgotten that. She shifted away. George and Tobias had arrived and were asking Liam if he was okay. She scrambled up, glancing over to see Gran still standing at the window. From her position she likely would’ve seen Liv touch Liam’s cheek, like Liv thought herself the heroine in a historical movie.
By now the other two had him upright and George scolding him. “What were you doing?”
He huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his head. “Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing,” George scoffed. Then her eyes widened. “Were you trying to fix the fountain?”
Liam flicked Liv a look then refocused on his sister. “I thought it might be worth a shot.”
“You did?” Liv asked.
Liam’s gaze veered back to her. “You’re right. We should make the most of what we have going for us. I … I’m sorry for giving you a hard time.”
“No.” She took a step towards him. Then paused. “I …” She couldn’t tell him what she’d just been told. The man wouldn’t want her compassion and would be sure to take it as pity. “I really appreciate you looking at it. Thank you.” She smiled.
His cheeks flushed, and because she was so used to that happening to her, her heart softened towards him even more.
“Look, I know that I tend to get a little carried away at times, but it comes from a good place. I really do want this to succeed.” She held out her hand. “Friends?”
He glanced at her hand, then up at her face. George and Tobias seemed to have faded into the shrubbery. Then he clasped it. “Friends.”
Knock knock.
Liam paused, having glimpsed who was on the other side of the Hall’s front door. The person to whom he’d lied yesterday. “Friends” didn’t wonder about the softness of their friend’s lips. Maybe that knock on the head had affected his judgement, because he didn’t know why he was agreeing to something he had no hope of keeping. Olivia Bennett intrigued him. She might frustrate the life out of him at times, but like she’d said and he now realized, it came from a good place. An honest place. Unlike him, who had spent too long hiding his true identity from her. He’d been amazed to think someone of her intelligence hadn’t discovered the truth. Thank goodness his sister had helped him out once again.
Last night, after he’d finally finished pressure-hosing down the front facade, George had confessed that they had told Liv about Trinny and his ex-fiancée. He’d been relieved to not have to tell her himself and see her pity. George had also said that she had confessed his real identity but that Liv didn’t seem too fazed. He was glad she was okay with the truth. The longer the deception had gone on, the more uncertain he’d grown about how to broach it. A confession of that magnitude was something demanding the right moment. Apparently the right moment had been while he’d been falling off a ladder.
