Free Let It Be Love by Victoria Alexander Page A

the subject or makes an excuse to leave my presence or distracts me in some way.” Oliver crossed the room and handed Jonathon a glass. “She’s very good at distraction.”
    At once the memory of a brilliant smile flashed through Jonathon’s mind. “I can see where she would be.” He took a sip, pleased to discover excellent Scottish whiskey of an appropriate quality and strength, and thought for a moment. “Then she’s made no claims? No irrevocable announcements?”
    “Not a one.” Oliver settled in a chair that matched Jonathon’s and narrowed his eyes. “What kind of irrevocable announcement?”
    Jonathon leaned closer to his friend. “I swear on the graves of every Effington that has come before me, I thought she was part of a hoax.” He jumped to his feet and paced the room, glass in hand. “I thought you and Warton and Cavendish had hired some woman—”
    Oliver raised a brow.
    “A beautiful woman,” Jonathon said quickly, as if the compliment to Oliver’s cousin would improve the situation. “An actress, probably.”
    “You thought my cousin was an actress?”
    “Anaccomplished actress. I thought she was very good.” Jonathon stared at his friend. “Is that ridiculous story true? About her father’s will?”
    Oliver nodded.
    “Are you certain? This isn’t some absurd plot on her part to trap me into marriage? I mean, I am considered quite a catch.”
    “Immodestly so.” Oliver snorted. “But you’re not the only marriageable man in London with a good title and tidy fortune. Without any effort at all, I can name several. Why, Freddy Hartshorne’s prospects are every bit as good as yours and he would no doubt jump at the opportunity to wed a lady with Fiona’s lineage, not to mention her looks.”
    “Come, now. Hartshorne is short, stubby and has hair redder than hers. They would have children who looked like carrots.” Jonathon waved away the comment. “Besides, he’s an idiot.”
    “As, apparently, are you.” Oliver paused. “And it was not Fiona who thought of you. You were my idea.”
    Jonathon groaned. “Why? Why would you do such a thing to me?”
    “I was doing you a favor. My cousin is everything you claim to have ever wanted in a prospective wife.”
    “She does seem to be,” Jonathon admitted in a grudging manner. Indeed, in the two days since their meeting he’d realized it had taken a lot of courage as well as determination for Fiona to approach him. The woman obviously had spirit. He took another sip of his whiskey. “But I don’t wish to be married.”
    “You’ve said over and over again—”
    “I lied.” Jonathon shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t realize myself that I’d lied until I came face to face with the truth of it. Face to face with marriage.” He resumed pacing. “I’m not ready for marriage, Oliver. Oh, I know it’s my duty and all that, but I’m still a young man—”
    “You’re two-and-thirty.”
    “Yes, but men can get married at any age. We’re not like women, we age better. I am certainly not the callow youth I was ten years ago.”
    “Older but no wiser?”
    “I thought I was wiser until now.”
    “What exactly passed between you and my cousin?” Oliver said slowly. “Fiona’s silence led me to believe she might well have lost her nerve. Or that you rejected her out of hand.”
    “Not exactly,” Jonathon murmured.
    Oliver stared.
    Jonathon blew a long breath. “I agreed to marry her.”
    Oliver grinned and raised his glass to his friend. “Well done, old man. I must say, you had me worried for a few minutes there.”
    “I wasn’t serious. I thought she, the whole thing, was a joke.”
    “Well, it wasn’t.”
    “I know that now. But I didn’t know that at the time.” A hopeful note sounded in Jonathon’s voice.
    “Therefore, I would think, since I agreed to wed under false pretenses as it were, my agreement would be invalid.”
    Oliver stared in disbelief. “Do you forget you’re dealing with a woman who is