Page 91 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
Far more than you can ever imagine.
Indeed, he was counting on it.
Dinah left soon afterwards. A little while later Grim peered cautiously around the study door and let out a relieved breath when he saw she’d gone. “Will you go to Cliff’s Edge after all then, my lord?”
“Listening at the door again?” Oliver laughed when Grim flushed bright red. “Tomorrow morning, and you’re coming with us. Tell me, Grim. Do I look like a man about to embark on a courtship?”
“A courtship, my lord?”
“Yes, indeed. As soon as the coach door closes behind us, I intend to begin courting Miss Bishop.”
“Courtship in a coach, my lord?” Grim looked doubtful. “That isn’t the usual sort of thing, is it?”
Oliver grinned. “No, Grim, it isn’t. Not at all.”
But Dinah Bishop wasn’t the usual sort of lady.
CHAPTER3
LORD OLIVER’S TRAVELING COACH, EARLY MORNING, DECEMBER 27TH
They weren’t even an hour into their journey before Dinah realized the depths of her folly in letting Oliver cajole her into this scheme.
She turned from the window to study him. He was lounging on the seat across from her, one booted foot dangling across his knee and his arm thrown over the back of the carriage seat. His dark hair was charmingly disheveled, and his dimple flirted at the corner of his mouth with every twitch of his lips, as if it were playing a game of hide-and-seek.
That blasted dimple. She’d always been wary of its potency, but never more so than now, when she was trapped alone in a coach with him.
Best to avoid looking at him altogether—
“If you don’t mind my saying so, Miss Bishop, you look as if you could use a little Christmas escapade.” Oliver’s dimples flashed in a sly smile, as if he’d read her mind and was determined to make her look at him.
Dinah crossed her arms over her chest, nettled. “I don’t like Christmas escapades.” She didn’t care much for escapades at any time of year, escapades being, in her opinion tedious, bothersome things that led more often to disappointment than pleasure.
In the worst cases, they led to disaster.
Oliver waved this objection away. “Everyone likes a Christmas escapade, and in any case, you couldn’t send me off to Cliff’s Edge alone in my weakened state.”
“How are you weakened? You look perfectly fit to me. Not a single festering wound or pistol ball embedded in you anywhere.” Oliver looked better than fit. So much better Dinah was obliged to tear her gaze away from the sight of his lean, muscled form.
“Fit! What about my injuries?” He gestured to the cut above his eye. “It still bleeds now and then, you know. Really, how can you be so hard-hearted?”
Dinah rolled her eyes. She wasn’t hard-hearted enough, otherwise she wouldn’t be in the coach with him at all. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are, indeed, and we’ll have a merry enough time together as long as you’re prepared to indulge my every whim.”
“It’s only a day’s journey, my lord. I doubt we’ll have time to indulge them all.”
“May I choose the ones we do indulge?” Oliver asked, his lips quirking in a lazy smile.
Dinah’s gaze wandered to those hypnotic dimples again and a resigned sigh left her lips. If she wasn’t careful, she might well find herself indulging his every whim.
Very well, then. It was back to not looking at him.
She turned her face to the window and watched as Tottenham gave way to Palmer’s Green, and Palmer’s Green to Enfield. The sumptuous velvet seats cradled her exhausted limbs, and the monotonous swaying rocked her until her eyelids grew heavy and she leaned her head against the glass.
“Yes, that’s it. You’ll feel much better after a rest.” Oliver’s voice was low and soothing. There was a faint rustle, then he tucked something soft and warm around her shoulders. The last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep was gentle fingers brushing her hair back from her face.
She woke from a peaceful doze much later, a startled cry on her lips. Her head was fuzzy with sleep, and it was some moments before she realized she’d been thrust into wakefulness with a hard jolt.
