friendly ventures were short and quiet—not rude but not forthcoming, either. Dane hoped he wouldn't have to speak to her on the topic.
Perhaps she would warm up once she'd arrived in her old home.
Olivia hadn't been in her family's London abode for more than a moment when she was made to feel as though she had never left.
Alas.
"Olivia dear, you've soiled your hem already!"
Lady Cheltenham had likely never soiled a hem in her life, not even as an infant. As her slender, imperious mother in her ruthlessly stylish gown came down the entrance hall, Olivia flashed on a tiny, imperious baby in ruthlessly stylish nappies.
Olivia sighed. The family butler, Huxley, hadn't even completely removed her cloak yet! "Good evening to you, too, Mother."
"What a pity. You needn't be such a hoyden, Olivia—"
Dane stepped smoothly between them. "I defy Princess Charlotte herself not to take on a bit of soot on an evening like this." He smiled indulgently at Olivia. She could have kissed him right there. "Besides, Lady Greenleigh need not concern herself with such things, eh?"
"Of course not." Lord Dryden stepped out of the wet and loomed alongside Dane like her own personal brick wall against her mother's criticisms. Lady Cheltenham made a few flustered noises, then hurriedly turned away to greet newly arriving guests.
Olivia caught Dane's hand at his side and squeezed it. "Thank you," she whispered.
Dane turned to look down at her and went still, caught by her grateful gaze. One might have thought he'd saved her from a charging bull for the thankfulness that shone from her eyes. He had to wonder what sort of woman Lady Cheltenham was, to cause such distress with a single comment.
He felt a tug of commiseration. His father had been a hard taskmaster, demanding and critical even when approving. Lady Cheltenham didn't seem as though she handed out much approval of any kind. It must have been very difficult for Olivia to remain as fearless as she was. His father would have liked her—
Dane clenched his jaw. His father had been a traitor, turned by a seductress, who had probably pinned him with such a grateful gaze at some time or another.
He banished the tug of sympathy and chuckled genially as he handed Huxley his greatcoat. "No trouble at all," Dane said lightly. He and Lord Dryden began to move away from her down the entrance hall, already absorbed in their conversation.
Olivia watched Dane go, a slight frown creasing her brow. For a moment, she'd felt the most astonishing sensation, as though he'd looked into her eyes and understood every single little thing about her.
Then it was gone, like footprints from beach sand after a wave.
"Lord Greenleigh is already inside?" Her mother's peevish tone let Olivia know who this evening was really for.
Olivia turned to see her mother enter the hall accompanied by a very handsome gentleman and his plump, pretty wife. He was prettier than her by far, until she smiled. Then dimples deepened and blue eyes shone with friendliness. Olivia adored her at once.
Astonishingly, Olivia's mother led them over and presented
them
to
her
. "This is the Earl of Reardon and Lady Reardon."
Reardon bowed and Olivia and Lady Reardon curtsied. When Olivia straightened she saw that her mother was off again, greeting more guests. "Heavens, this is turning out to be quite the party."
Lady Reardon grinned. "It looks like she's invited everyone who is left in town. Look, Nathaniel, isn't that Wallingford?"
Olivia looked toward the door to see her mother greeting a bored-looking young man. She turned back just in time to glimpse the expression of distaste that crossed Lord Reardon's face.
Lord Reardon… Reardon… "Oh!" she blurted. "You're Lord Treason!"
He grimaced. "Not anymore, I hope."
Olivia clapped a hand over her wayward mouth. "Oh dear. Oh no. I'm so sorry. Of course you aren't. I mean, you couldn't be anymore, could you? Not that I ever thought you were. I mean to say, I never even heard
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley