Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,39

and Mr. Nelson into knots, winning them with wit and intelligence. The whole debate was a thing of beauty and endlessly entertaining to watch, but Oliver had nothing to add to it nor did he wish to fight for a voice in the discussion.

Miss Caswell was radiant, and even if she hadn’t admitted her deepest desires just moments ago, Oliver would know this was where she belonged. Her understanding of the issues and unfailing logic served her well, but more than that, she had a manner of speaking that soothed the ruffled feathers, pressing the points home but without offending or alienating the others. It was a sight to behold.

But was this the life he wanted to have?

The conversation deepened and shifted, moving from subject to subject, and Miss Caswell’s hold on his arm loosened. Her attention was so fixed on the other gentlemen that Oliver wandered away, and she did not notice his absence. From a distance, Oliver watched the group and wondered if he would ever have the energy and excitement to match theirs. Anything less and he would be a poor politician indeed.

A life in London. A life lived in the public eye. A life of being written about in the newspapers and traveling from engagement to engagement. The whole idea was merely speculative at this time, yet Oliver already felt his spirit dragging at the thought of the never-ending political swirl.

Yet the good he could do. The change. Miss Caswell’s words repeated in his head, reminding him of all the blessings to be found in such a life. The thought of doing so much good for so many was a siren’s call, begging him to embrace the madness that world required.

Moving to the edge of the hill, Oliver looked out at the fields and forests of Bristow. This was his home. Its beauty wrapped around his heart, filling him with such peace and happiness that Oliver couldn’t imagine being separated from it for so much of the year.

And the people. His tenants and the villagers. A good steward handled much of the estate’s business, but Oliver enjoyed overseeing the day-to-day issues and difficulties. Working with the tenants to alleviate their suffering and improve their lives brought him a sense of satisfaction that no amount of political debate could replace.

But was it selfish to focus solely on those desires and ignore the greater amount of good he might do?

Turning away from the landscape with a heavy heart, Oliver looked over the guests, many of whom were gathered on the blankets and chairs, availing themselves of the feast. His gaze slid over a short distance and found Miss Sophie seated on a blanket alone. The image of her silently watching the rest of the party mirrored the first time they’d met. Standing to the side of the Fitzsimmons’ ballroom, she had been a silent sentinel, watching and waiting but not engaging.

Miss Sophie’s expression was the picture of peace. She sat with her legs curled to one side, the opposite arm propping her up, and her gaze traveled the crowd, constantly observing all that was going on around her. To all outward appearances, she appeared content with her situation, but Oliver felt loneliness emanating from her like a cool breeze. With a gust it enveloped him, settling into his heart as though her pain was his own.

From what she said concerning her family, Oliver suspected she had no close ties to her siblings or parents. And seeing her seated thusly, he wondered if she had many people in her life whom she counted as friends. But she had at least one.

Striding to her blanket, Oliver sat beside her, stretching out his legs and propping himself up on his arms from behind.

“And how is my good friend this lovely afternoon?” he asked.

Miss Sophie’s brows rose, and she turned her gaze to look out at the view. “She is enjoying a fine afternoon out of doors and delicious food.”

“And longing to explore the fields, hunting for more insects to paint?”

Her light blue eyes met his again, and the corners of them crinkled as she smiled. “I assure you I do more with my time than that.”

“A lady with hidden depths, I see,” he teased. “If not for your exploration in naturalism, what would you like to do most right now?”

Miss Sophie’s gaze slanted to the side as she bit on the side of her lip. “If allowed to choose without any respect to reality, I would most love to be out