Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,54
of wagers and bragging, punctuated by the ridiculous antics one expected from young men of wealth, importance, and moderate intelligence. Other than Oliver, only Mr. Banfield and Father remained silent—the former due to his concentration on the business at hand and the latter due to his disinterest in the conversations.
Yet even as Oliver cursed it and all those who’d invented the silly tackle, he knew the fishing line was suffering because of his inattention. Truly, he was not such a poor fisherman to make so many mistakes, but with his mind firmly on other things, there was little question as to why Oliver was fumbling so.
Courtship was supposed to be simple. The couple spent time together, decided if they would suit, and then married or parted ways. Gentlemen didn’t even need to show any real imagination when it came to squiring the lady about, as there were expected activities in which all courting couples engaged. Yet Oliver’s life was decidedly complicated.
It was difficult to believe how much had changed since the advent of this wretched house party. Little more than a sennight ago, Oliver had been on the brink of proposing to Miss Caswell. His decision had seemed clear. But then Miss Sophie appeared, who was not a viable option, no matter how she appealed to him.
Oliver yanked at the line, which only tightened the tangles. The urge to cast the rod and reel to the ground overtook him, and it was only by the barest bit of self-control that he reined in the impulse.
Miss Sophie was not possible. His heart could not reconcile the lady he’d come to know with the conniving creature her mother claimed her to be, but even if she was as honest and kind as she appeared to be, there was the issue of his parents. Binding their families together would bring untold misery to his parents, and it wasn’t right for Oliver to allow it.
And Miss Caswell was not a bad choice. Her strengths and virtues were numerous, and they cared for each other. There was little more a man could wish for.
And yet…
Those words kept haunting him, not allowing him any peace. The moment Oliver settled on a course of action, it resurfaced, sending him back to the beginning. It was to the point where he wished to make a choice—any choice—just to be done with it.
“That is a lost cause,” said a voice just to the side of him.
Oliver slanted a look to see Mr. Allen Banfield watching him.
“But then, fishing is a lost cause,” he added, skewering his own abandoned rod with a look. “It is a shame we are too early for any proper hunting. It is infinitely preferable to this.”
“We thought to leave the old men to their lazy pastime,” said Mr. Charles Dosett. “Care to join us?”
“Heathen,” bellowed the elder Mr. Banfield from his place on the other side of the stream.
The fellow’s son kicked at the water, spraying it towards his father, which set the old fellows grumbling about frightening the fish, though the young Mr. Banfield met it with a laugh. Knowing this was a lost cause, Oliver handed his rod to the waiting servant. Allen led the group downstream as the Dosett boys jabbered on about some wager and young Mr. Julius Nelson followed. Mr. Dixon was nowhere to be seen, and Oliver was disappointed at that, for he was the only one guaranteed to provide any interesting conversation.
He’d rather set off on his own, but the thought of being caught by Mrs. Banfield again was enough to keep him shackled to the others. There was protection in numbers.
“Did you hear about Alfred King?” asked Julius, casting a sideways glance towards Allen, but the fellow merely huffed and rolled his eyes, which left Julius deflated.
“That is old news,” said Allen.
“Just because you know all the tittle-tattle, does not mean the rest of us are so similarly blessed,” said Charles with a laugh.
Gentlemen were so quick to condemn ladies as gossips, yet time and again, they proved possessed of equally loose lips. Oliver held in a sigh and wondered if it wasn’t too late to return to fishing; surely spending hours untangling fishing line was a great deal more interesting than this.
Allen waggled his brows at the others and said in a hushed tone, “It appears that old Alfred has broken with Miss Landry.”
The other fellows grimaced, and Charles sucked in a sharp breath and said, “That is rum luck. She was such a pretty thing.”