Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love #3) - M.A. Nichols Page 0,68

not give me any false assurances of your lukewarm affections for her. I’ve seen you two together.”

“That is of no importance,” he said with a shake of his head. “You are arguing for me to pursue a courtship that cannot be.”

Victoria straightened at that, watching him with narrowed eyes as he studiously avoided her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“It is nothing—”

But she yanked on his hand, pulling his attention to her. “Do not lie to me, Mr. Kingsley. Honesty, remember?”

Mr. Kingsley slanted her a narrow-eyed look. “This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever been party to.”

“And yet it is far more effective for us to approach this head-on rather than equivocating any further.”

Giving her an appreciative nod, Mr. Kingsley pursed his lips. “And you wish for me to discuss my feelings for Miss Banfield?”

Victoria nodded, turning his words on him. “Whatever else may come of this, I think it may do you some good.”

Mr. Kingsley gave her another low chuckle and shook his head. “This is the strangest proposal in recorded history, perhaps.”

“Stop dithering,” she prodded.

And so he spoke. Beginning at their first meeting, Mr. Kingsley spoke in general terms at first, but the more he spoke, the more detail he added. Miss Banfield’s conversation. The lightness in his heart whenever she was near. Victoria’s own heart prickled at his confession, wishing their courtship had engendered such admiration, but life was never that simple or easy. Yet the pain ebbed as he delved deeper into his tale. Whether or not he was ready to admit the breadth of his feelings, Victoria was in no doubt that Mr. Kingsley loved Sophia Banfield.

Perhaps she ought to feel the bitter sting of jealousy, but her heart warmed at the thought of him finding joy with someone who so clearly deserved his love.

Now, if only the imbecile would simply accept that marrying Miss Banfield was the better choice.

Chapter 25

Miss Caswell was usually more circumspect in her expression, hiding away any frustration or irritation or anger behind a calm facade. Apparently, Oliver’s current situation had broken through her reserve, for she was watching him like a mother watches a child on the verge of doing precisely that which he has been told not to do. Luckily, with her seated beside him, Oliver was able to ignore much of her reaction and focus on the subject at hand.

Despite the discomfort of the subject (or more importantly, to whom he was speaking about it), Oliver laid out the situation as thoroughly as he could. If she understood the divide standing between him and Miss Sophie, Miss Caswell would abandon this stubbornness.

Yet, as he spoke, the words drifted away from a mere recitation. The more he spoke of Miss Sophie, the more his heart warmed, telling him what he couldn’t allow himself to believe.

“It is all foolishness, Miss Caswell. An attraction, perhaps, but nothing more. There cannot be.”

“Because your parents despise hers?” Miss Caswell’s tone conveyed the low opinion she had of that course of action.

“You are marrying to please your parents; why is it any different for me?”

Miss Caswell’s brows rose. “Because though fear may drive them to cast aspersions against Miss Banfield, your parents are good people, and that animosity won’t last. I do not believe your mother is capable of holding onto a grudge, let alone against someone undeserving of it. With time, they will come to know her and accept her despite her family.”

Taking in a deep breath, the young lady wove her arm through Oliver’s, holding his gaze with such intensity that he dared not look away.

“If you can honestly say your heart is not engaged elsewhere, Mr. Kingsley, then I will gladly accept your offer, but do not speak unless it is the whole, unvarnished truth.”

Oliver’s mouth opened to give her all the assurances she needed, but the determination burning in her eyes forced him to pause and listen to the thrumming in his heart. In the abstract, it seemed easy to say whether or not he loved Miss Sophie. But was it only infatuation? The desire for something beyond his reach? Surely one should simply know if one’s heart was engaged. But Oliver felt stuck between denying and accepting the existence of such a sentiment.

Miss Caswell’s eyes lightened with sympathy. “Tell me this—if there were no other impediments, would you court her?”

“Yes.” The answer was quick and firm, and Oliver’s heart lightened at the admission.

At that, Miss Caswell’s hold on him slackened, though she did not distance herself. Grief dimmed her