man was absurd.
“Hello, Conrad.” She said no more. Perhaps if she remained silent, he would leave.
Oliver didn’t say anything either, but from the corner of Lucy’s eye, she noticed his hands were flexing in and out. Did Conrad’s presence put him on alert? Cause him to want to protect her for some reason?
If that were true, she had yet another reason to swoon around him. The now-familiar warmth whenever he was near heated her core, teasing her body and mind with thoughts she probably ought not to be having.
At least not with the other man standing right there.
Conrad glanced from one to the other. A scowl marred his pasty face. What did he have to frown about? He always seemed to want to be with Lucy, and he’d never even met Oliver. Had he eaten something spoiled recently? Blood pudding gone bad?
With a sigh, O liver stepped forward. Did he feel sorry for Conrad? Or was he just weary of waiting for the other man to speak? To do what was expected? Lucy’s face heated. Poor Oliver. He must have been so humiliated. Please, Conrad, be a gentleman from here on.
“Good day . I’m Mr. Barrow.”
Conrad wrinkled his nose, as if the very fact that Oliver dare address him brought the stench of dead mackerel. From between clenched teeth, he muttered, “Good day.”
Lucy waited for Conrad to say his name as well. She waited an uncomfortable half a minute. Why must the man be so contrary? Oh, very well! “Mr. Barrow, this is Mr. Conrad Croome, the Earl of Lofton.”
Oliver held out his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Again, Lucy waited for Conrad to do the expected thing. The decent thing. The human thing. Finally, he grudgingly touched his palm to Oliver’s, then just as quickly snapped it back to his side. Without apology or the grace to look ashamed, he reached again into his pocket.
Lucy’s mouth dropped open in an unladylike pose. He didn’t! The man retrieved his handkerchief and wiped his hand. Of all the unmitigated nerve. He was even more repugnant than she’d thought. And that was saying something, for she could hardly stomach the man, even from a distance.
Oliver rubbed his hand along the thigh of his pants. Was he mocking Conrad’s insult? Bravo! Conrad needed taken down a peg. Or ten. The man was obnoxious. Perhaps Oliver was the man for the task.
Lucy touched Oliver’s sleeve. A mutter from Conrad’s direction brought an inner smile she dared not show on her lips. “Mr. Barrow, perhaps you would be as good as to show Conrad and me around the Bird Sanctuary. And please, don’t leave anything out. We’d like to observe it all .”
With raised eyebrows, Oliver looked at her. She let the ghost of a smile touch her lips, just enough to show him what she was about.
Nodding, he grinned. “Why certainly. I’d be glad to.”
Conrad coughed. “I… wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble, Mr. Barrow.”
“ Please, think nothing of it, Lofton . It would give pleasure to do so. Great pleasure.”
Lucy bit her lip. She would not laugh. But oh, how she desired to! Oliver wasn’t giving an inch to Conrad. Wouldn’t even call him by his title.
As the three started back across the grass, the path Conrad had just taken, Lucy smirked. It seemed Oliver was going to cover every inch of the Sanctuary. Conrad was in for a surprise. Sweaty attire. Muddy boots, sunburn, and more than a little attention from ravenous, biting insects.
Lucy couldn’t say she hated the idea. Although she should. It wasn’t nice. But neither is Conrad. She let out a sigh. No, I must at least be outwardly polite, for my father’s sake, even though I don’t like Conrad. Not a lick.
She marched behind Oliver, easily keeping up with his pace. Conrad, however, panted so loud from behind her, he sounded like a hound after a hunt. Maybe if he got a taste of what the Bird Sanctuary had to offer, he’d not return.
I can hope !
S everal minutes of brisk walking later, Oliver stopped and turned toward
“Hello, Conrad.” She said no more. Perhaps if she remained silent, he would leave.
Oliver didn’t say anything either, but from the corner of Lucy’s eye, she noticed his hands were flexing in and out. Did Conrad’s presence put him on alert? Cause him to want to protect her for some reason?
If that were true, she had yet another reason to swoon around him. The now-familiar warmth whenever he was near heated her core, teasing her body and mind with thoughts she probably ought not to be having.
At least not with the other man standing right there.
Conrad glanced from one to the other. A scowl marred his pasty face. What did he have to frown about? He always seemed to want to be with Lucy, and he’d never even met Oliver. Had he eaten something spoiled recently? Blood pudding gone bad?
With a sigh, O liver stepped forward. Did he feel sorry for Conrad? Or was he just weary of waiting for the other man to speak? To do what was expected? Lucy’s face heated. Poor Oliver. He must have been so humiliated. Please, Conrad, be a gentleman from here on.
“Good day . I’m Mr. Barrow.”
Conrad wrinkled his nose, as if the very fact that Oliver dare address him brought the stench of dead mackerel. From between clenched teeth, he muttered, “Good day.”
Lucy waited for Conrad to say his name as well. She waited an uncomfortable half a minute. Why must the man be so contrary? Oh, very well! “Mr. Barrow, this is Mr. Conrad Croome, the Earl of Lofton.”
Oliver held out his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Again, Lucy waited for Conrad to do the expected thing. The decent thing. The human thing. Finally, he grudgingly touched his palm to Oliver’s, then just as quickly snapped it back to his side. Without apology or the grace to look ashamed, he reached again into his pocket.
Lucy’s mouth dropped open in an unladylike pose. He didn’t! The man retrieved his handkerchief and wiped his hand. Of all the unmitigated nerve. He was even more repugnant than she’d thought. And that was saying something, for she could hardly stomach the man, even from a distance.
Oliver rubbed his hand along the thigh of his pants. Was he mocking Conrad’s insult? Bravo! Conrad needed taken down a peg. Or ten. The man was obnoxious. Perhaps Oliver was the man for the task.
Lucy touched Oliver’s sleeve. A mutter from Conrad’s direction brought an inner smile she dared not show on her lips. “Mr. Barrow, perhaps you would be as good as to show Conrad and me around the Bird Sanctuary. And please, don’t leave anything out. We’d like to observe it all .”
With raised eyebrows, Oliver looked at her. She let the ghost of a smile touch her lips, just enough to show him what she was about.
Nodding, he grinned. “Why certainly. I’d be glad to.”
Conrad coughed. “I… wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble, Mr. Barrow.”
“ Please, think nothing of it, Lofton . It would give pleasure to do so. Great pleasure.”
Lucy bit her lip. She would not laugh. But oh, how she desired to! Oliver wasn’t giving an inch to Conrad. Wouldn’t even call him by his title.
As the three started back across the grass, the path Conrad had just taken, Lucy smirked. It seemed Oliver was going to cover every inch of the Sanctuary. Conrad was in for a surprise. Sweaty attire. Muddy boots, sunburn, and more than a little attention from ravenous, biting insects.
Lucy couldn’t say she hated the idea. Although she should. It wasn’t nice. But neither is Conrad. She let out a sigh. No, I must at least be outwardly polite, for my father’s sake, even though I don’t like Conrad. Not a lick.
She marched behind Oliver, easily keeping up with his pace. Conrad, however, panted so loud from behind her, he sounded like a hound after a hunt. Maybe if he got a taste of what the Bird Sanctuary had to offer, he’d not return.
I can hope !
S everal minutes of brisk walking later, Oliver stopped and turned toward
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