“Livy is a spirited girl who knows her own mind,” Ben replied. “Any fellow lucky enough to marry her should appreciate those fine qualities.”
He had better treat her like the queen that she is, he thought. Or he will answer to me.
Lines deepened on his host’s forehead. “You do not think Sheffield appreciates her?”
Seeing Sheffield sneak another peek at Livy’s bosom, Ben gritted his teeth.
“Sheffield is conventional,” he said flatly.
“Given Livy’s unorthodox ways, perhaps she would benefit from a strait-laced sort of husband. One who will keep her wilder impulses in check.” Strathaven sighed. “These are the concerns that keep a man awake at night. Take it from me, my friend: daughters are the antidote to sleep.”
If Strathaven knew of Ben’s improper thoughts about Livy, he might never sleep again.
Ben’s throat constricted. Bloody hell, he was behaving like a scoundrel. Strathaven and his lady had been good to Ben, welcoming him into their circle. Ben would not betray their friendship by sniffing after their daughter.
Most importantly, he could not hurt Livy. Even if he wasn’t twelve years her senior and didn’t have a past filthier than London’s streets, he had appetites that made him an unsuitable husband for any well-bred virgin.
“That is why I do not plan to have a family, Your Grace,” he said firmly. “I value my peace of mind.”
“Would you believe I once said the same thing?” Strathaven looked down the table at his wife, then at Livy and his sons, his smile rueful. “Yet I have learned that one’s sanity is a small price to pay for happiness.”
Entering the orangery, Ben told himself he was doing the right thing. What needed to be done to salvage his friendship with Livy. After supper, the ladies had departed to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their brandy and cigars. During the feminine migration, Livy had furtively slipped him a note.
Meet me at our spot as soon as you are able.
He had waited a few minutes then made the usual excuse to leave the male group. He went to the conservatory at the back of the house. As he opened the door, the scent of blossoming citrus enveloped him, bringing back memories of the cozy hours he had spent here. The Strathavens entertained family and close friends in the elegant glass-walled room, and Ben counted himself fortunate to be included amongst them.
The conservatory had been an oasis and shelter from the turbulence of his life. A place where he did not have to explain himself or worry about the outside world. Here in the airy room lush with life, he had enjoyed simple pleasures like playing cards and anagrams with an adolescent Livy, their bantering as much fun as the game. Sometimes they did not speak at all. It was one of Livy’s many fine qualities that she was not prone to unnecessary chatter; their shared silence was as companionable as everything else they did together.
At present, the orangery no longer possessed that nostalgic innocence. Moonlight streamed through the glass, bathing all in a seductive, silvery glow. The foliage formed a fragrant maze, and as Ben followed the winding path, he felt as if he were venturing into the heart of man’s first garden.
Stick to your plan, he told himself. Mend fences with Livy. Then get the hell out of here.
He found her standing in an alcove formed by potted palms and lemon trees. With a glass wall framing the outdoor garden behind her, she looked like a princess lost in the woods. Her hair was a shining crown, her skin pearl-like in its luminosity, her figure petite and curvy perfection in her gown of light blue crepe. In the past, he never had trouble reading her, yet now, cloaked in starlight, she seemed as mysterious as womanhood itself.
“I am glad you came,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
The uncharacteristic tremor in her voice tightened his chest. He never wanted her to doubt his regard for her. The truth was he would do everything in his power to protect her…especially from himself.
He forced himself to say, “We should not be alone.”
“What utter claptrap.” Her voice regained its usual resolve, and she gave an impatient shake of her head. “We’ve been alone countless times in the past.”
“That was before…” He caught himself; referencing their kiss was a bad idea. “Things are different now. Back then, you were a child—”
“So you do agree that I am grown up,” she said doggedly.
“Devil take it.” He expelled a frustrated breath. “That is not the point.”
“It is entirely the point and why I needed to speak with you. We do not have long,” she said in a rush. “But Hadleigh, I did not want there to be any awkwardness or animosity between us. I…I have missed you.”
He had steeled himself to deal with her willful nature: the sweet yet stubborn essence of who Livy was. Yet he was wholly defenseless against the honest hurt glimmering in her eyes. He couldn’t stem the tenderness that welled inside him. The longing that he, too, felt for the easy closeness of their past.
“I have missed you too,” he said gruffly.
Hope lit her thickly lashed eyes. “You have?”
“You are my dear little friend.” Out of habit, he reached out and chucked her beneath the chin. It was the gesture of an older brother…or had been, at any rate. Now the silky glide of her skin against his finger caused a hot quickening in his blood, and there was nothing sister-like in her shiver of response.
He jerked his hand away. Fought for control.
Her gaze searched his. “Why can’t I be your friend and your petite amie?”
Her voice had a sweetly pleading quality that tested his self-discipline. Feminine entreaty never failed to set off a dominant drumbeat in his blood. Coming from Livy, a spirited and willful creature, it was doubly alluring.
And doubly forbidden.
Are you mad? This is Livy, he berated himself. Get your mind out of the
