Page 88 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
“If I must, yes.”
Grim turned without another word and scurried up the stairs.
Dinah wandered down the hallway to the study and fell into the chair behind the desk. Good Lord, she was tired. The pantomime was on at the Pandemonium, and she’d been treading the boards until well past midnight. It was a grueling schedule, but Dinah didn’t mind it. If she kept busy, the holidays would fly by.
Why, they’ll be over before I know it…
She rested her forehead on her folded arms. Perhaps she’d nap for a few minutes, just long enough to gather her resolve in case Oliver proved difficult. Or worse, charming. If Oliver deployed his dimples, she’d need every bit of strength she had to resist them.
Dinah yawned, and closed her eyes.
* * *
“Go ’way.”Oliver reached up a hand to swat aside whatever was tickling his ear, then buried his head under his pillow.
“Forgive me, my lord, but, er…it’s rather urgent.”
“Grim?” Oliver opened one eye, then closed it with a groan. “For the love of God, man, have some mercy and leave me alone.”
“Oh, dear. You do sound cross. I beg your pardon, my lord, but—”
“Is the house on fire, Grim? If not, then I don’t want to be disturbed.”
“I assure you, my lord, the situation is much graver than a mere conflagration.Miss Bishopis here, and she’s demanding you come down at once.”
“Dinah?” Oliver emerged from under his pillow, tried to peel his eyes open, realized one was swollen shut, and gave up on both. “What the devil is Dinah doing here?”
“She says Lord Archer demands you come to Essex for the Christmas holidays, my lord, and that you’re meant to leave for Cliff’s Edge this morning. She’s quiteinsistent, my lord.” Grim gulped. “I doubt she’ll leave until you see her. You know how Miss Bishop is.”
“Yes, Grim. I do.” The first time Oliver laid eyes on Dinah Bishop she’d mistaken him for a highwayman. She’d shot at him with a muff pistol and nearly put a ball in his forehead. He, in turn, had fallen madly in love with her. What man could resist a lady with such enchanting blue eyes who was a crack shot into the bargain?
A strange thing, love. It had transformed him from a notorious Tainted Angel into a respectable gentleman, his current disreputable state aside.
Oliver struggled to a sitting position and opened the one eye that still worked. “What I don’t understand, Grim, is how she knows I’m meant to be leaving for Cliff’s Edge today.”
“I suspect Lady Archer told her, my lord.” Grim lowered his voice. “Lady Archer and Miss Bishop being as thick as thieves, my lord.”
Oliver groaned again. “I’m doomed, Grim.” Once Penelope and Dinah started conspiring, a mere mortal man hadn’t a prayer of escaping them.
“Doomed, indeed, my lord. You will you go down and restrain…er, see Miss Bishop, my lord?” Grim’s voice wasn’t quite steady.
Poor Grim was terrified of Dinah, and for good reason. Oliver was enormously fond of Grim, but one couldn’t deny his manservant was no more a match for Dinah Bishop than a baby bird was for a clever, hungry cat. “Yes. Help me to dress, won’t you, Grim?”
“Yes, my lord.” Grim hurried forward, and after a bit of a struggle they retrieved enough of Oliver’s scattered clothing to put him in order.
Well, mostly in order. Dinah wasn’t the most patient of ladies, and Oliver didn’t linger at the glass. “Will I do, Grim?” He studied his reflection. He’d tugged on a pair of breeches, a shirt, and a crumpled waistcoat. His cravat had given way to his fruitless tugging and was decidedly askew. Neither he nor Grim could find his coat, so Oliver had tossed an embroidered silk banyan over the ensemble.
“Very nice, my lord, but your hair is a bit wild.” Grim tried to tame it, to no avail.
Oliver squinted into the glass. “Doesn’t it always look like that?”
“Not usually quite so…well, never mind.” Grim studied him doubtfully. “I hope your wound doesn’t start bleeding again, ladies not being keen on blood, my lord.”
“True enough. Fetch me a handkerchief, will you?” Oliver grimaced at the gash in his forehead, but he couldn’t do a thing about it, or about his swollen jaw and black eye, either. Erskine was a decent enough bloke, but he could be a trifle unreasonable when he was in his cups, and he hadn’t taken kindly to Oliver’s dragging him away from the hazard table last night.
“Good man, Grim.” Oliver took the handkerchief Grim offered him and made his way down the stairs to the study.
He came to a stop just outside the door. Dinah was slumped in his chair, her body limp with sleep, her face pillowed on her arms and a few strands of her dark hair falling loose.
