Page 98 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
“Don’t they have hunting dogs in London?” As soon as she said it Dinah frowned, annoyed with herself. Why was she was making such a fuss over Oliver’s fetching a few Christmas gifts for his family? It wasn’t as if he’d taken them that far out of their way. Dartford was only eight miles south of Plumstead.
“Not like this one. Lord Dunton’s gamekeeper, John Massie is known throughout England for his springers. His dogs are the best. Every gentleman in London wants one, but Dunton is notoriously possessive of them. He won’t part with his dogs for a king’s ransom.”
“If he’s so stingy, how did you get this one?”
Oliver’s eyes twinkled. “Won a king’s ransom from Dunton at whist one night at White’s. I offered to return his vowels in exchange for a pup. William’s going to be so pleased. Even in his fondest imaginings he wouldn’t dream he’d ever get one of Massie’s pups.”
Dinah tried not to let herself melt, but with those two pairs of lovely blue eyes gazing at her and the sweet smile on Oliver’s face, even her flinty heart shuddered on its foundations.
She’d resisted dozens of engaging smiles since she came to London four years ago. She’d sent a number of handsome, charming rogues on their way without a twinge of regret, but there was far more to Oliver Angel than a handsome face and a charming manner.
London might gossip all they liked about him. They might gasp over his antics and shake their heads over his sins. They might whisper behind their hands about his brawls and wagering, but when Dinah looked at Oliver, she didn’t see a Tainted Angel. She saw how truly kind he was, how deeply he loved.
That was the trouble, wasn’t it? That was why she kept fussing over the delays on their way to Cliff’s Edge. It was easy enough to avoid Oliver in London, but they’d been alone together in this coach for little more than a day, and already her heart was fraying at the edges. The longer the journey took, the worse it would become. She was in danger of forgetting he was her friend only—a man she was fond of, but nottoofond.
Lie to me if you must, but don’t like to yourself.
“Miss Bishop? Are you ill? You’ve the strangest expression on your face.”
Oliver’s voice was unexpectedly gentle. To Dinah’s horror, tears pricked behind her eyes, and she rushed into speech to stop them from falling. “You’ve gone to some trouble arranging gifts for your family. Gifts you clearly intended to retrieve on your way from London to Cliff’s Edge. You never intended to remain in London for the holidays, did you, Oliver?”
He continued to stroke the puppy’s head, but his gaze held Dinah’s. “No. I would have delayed the journey for several days to give my injuries time to heal, but I would have gone to Cliff’s Edge sooner or later.”
Dinah let out a deep sigh. A part of her had hoped he’d lie about it so she could scold him. It was safer when she scolded. “You lied to me, then.”
“Yes.” Something flickered in his eyes. Not regret, but something else.
“Why?” Dinah tried to be outraged, but the familiar anger she’d grown to depend on refused to respond to her prodding.
He was quiet for so long she gave up on getting an answer, but then he muttered, “You wouldn’t have come with me otherwise.”
Yes, I would.
If Oliver had asked it of her, she would have come. A part of her wanted to say so, to blurt out the truth and feel relief overwhelm the tightness in her chest, but once she told it, there would be no taking it back. “We’ll never know now, will we?”
A slight smile drifted across Oliver’s lips, but he didn’t look happy when he murmured, “Is it really so awful to have to spend a few days with me, Dinah?”
His hushed voice, his use of her Christian name, the way his eyes darkened to a deep, midnight blue as he studied her caused a strange, fluttery sensation deep inside Dinah’s chest.
No. It isn’t awful. That’s the trouble.
But again, she wouldn’t say so. Instead she pasted a smile on her face and asked brightly, “This Christmas escapade of yours, Oliver. Where will it take us next?”
Dinah half-expected him to balk at the change in topic, but Oliver’s lips quirked in a grin. “Yes, about that. I prefer we call it a lark from now on, if you don’t mind.”
“A lark?” Dinah laughed. “Very well, if you wish, but I don’t see what the difference is.”
“You told me you don’t care for escapades, but there’s nothing you can object to in a lark. They’re playful, harmless bits of fun.”
“Very well, then. Where will this Christmas lark take us next?”
Oliver glanced down at the pup, who’d curled up in his lap and fallen asleep. “To Southfleet, to fetch Maddy’s gift.”
* * *
He’d nearly toldher the truth.
Oliver had vowed to wait until she was ready to hear it. He’d opened his mouth a dozen times since they left London to tell her everything, then closed it again without a word. For all his careful plans and promises to himself, it hadn’t taken more than her fleeting look of panic before he’d nearly told Dinah the truth.
