Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,15

plenty of light and air.

“Only a few more moments,” whispered his sister as servants divested the Kingsleys of their cloaks and jackets, bonnets and hats.

“A few moments?” asked Oliver.

“Until you shall be reunited with our dear Victoria,” replied Lily. “I can hardly wait to see her!”

“Yes, of course.” And though he’d been trying to distract himself with thoughts of architecture, the reality of his situation rushed back into his thoughts.

Engaged to be married; there were no objections, no obstacles, nothing to impede the match that everyone thought good and proper. Oliver’s muscles quivered, bringing with them a fluttery energy that refused to leave him be. In quick succession, he pondered over all the opportunities available to pose that all-important question, and though Oliver wished to plan the scene, he knew it was more likely to emerge in the moment; the best proposals were born of the heart, after all.

“Now, there shall be no more need for you to spend your days pining for her,” said Lily with an overly dramatic sigh.

“Brat,” mumbled Oliver with a smile, and Lily took his arm with a cheeky flutter of her eyelashes.

“I am beside myself to see her and show her Avebury Park,” said Lily. “Perhaps we might walk to Bryer’s Pond one afternoon.”

“Now, you mustn’t monopolize Victoria’s attention, dearest,” said Mother as she took Father’s arm and turned towards the Nelsons’ parlor.

“Of course, Mama,” said Lily, beaming at her brother. “I am simply thrilled for her to be here. London is always so hectic that I do not get to spend as much time with my dear friends as I would like, and Hettie and Phyllis have been so busy of late that I hardly see them here, either. And now, we shall have a whole month together.”

Oliver had little to add to Lily’s excitement but felt no compunction to rein it in, for he felt an echo of it thrumming in his heart.

This was the final step he’d wanted to take before asking that all-important question of Miss Caswell. Avebury Park was important to him, his family, and the community. There were many beyond the Kingsleys who depended on it for their income, and the master and mistress played an important role in guiding and developing the village. His parents had shouldered those roles with dedication and passion, and Oliver could not imagine binding himself to a lady who wished only to live off the estate’s bounty without reciprocity.

Yes, the next few weeks would give him ample opportunity to steal Miss Caswell away and introduce her to the life he hoped she’d embrace.

“Don’t be anxious,” said Lily, squeezing his arm as they followed their parents into the parlor. “Miss Caswell is the perfect wife for you.”

It was such a romantic notion to think a lady was “perfect.” It meant different things to different people, with some focusing on the perfect financial or social partner, but perfection lived at the heart of every marriage hunt. Oliver only wished he knew what perfect meant for him, though Miss Caswell seemed close to it.

Their little group stepped into the Nelsons’ parlor, and the space was already filled with other guests. As Oliver searched the room, his eyes landed on Miss Caswell. She met his gaze in a manner few ladies employed. It was not derisive or haughty, demure or timid; it was simply unflinching, meeting his eyes without apology or question. Miss Caswell was one of the most self-possessed ladies of his acquaintance, and Oliver’s smile grew at the sight of her.

“Mr. Kingsley, how good to see you,” she said before sliding her arm through his as Lily relinquished her place at his side.

“And you, Miss Caswell,” he replied, resting his free hand atop hers. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

“It was entertaining to say the least,” she said, a spark of humor brightening her eyes. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Miriam is in fine form, and I fear for the safety of the other gentlemen.”

Oliver chuckled. “I look forward to hearing all the details.”

Giving a shake of her head, she laughed. “Oh, there is much to tell, Mr. Kingsley. Far too much.”

“And where is the whirlwind that is Miss Miriam Caswell?” asked Oliver as he glanced about the parlor.

“She and Miss Essie Dosett have taken an instant liking to each other and are as thick as thieves,” she replied, nodding back towards one of the corners.

Oliver cast a look in that direction, his gaze passing over the other guests in search of the young