Return of the Viscount by Gayle Callen Page B

said crossly, “but my entertainment is my choice. I did not care for how you challenged my authority in front of my companions last night.”
    She gaped at him, feeling sad and frustrated. “Oliver, how can you speak to me that way after what Sir Bevis did?”
    He reddened. “It was uncalled for, I know. But it was an accident. It had nothing to do with—”
    â€œIt had everything to do with my own reaction!” She threw down her napkin. “How can you think I’d want such a man in my house? He may have misunderstood my identity, but he was about to force an unwilling woman to . . . to . . . be alone with him!”
    Oliver’s gaze sidled away. “I know. And it was wrong.”
    â€œAre you even grateful that Lord Blackthorne intervened? Or did that embarrass you, too?”
    â€œOf course not. He was right to do so. Perhaps I wish I could have been the one to help you.”
    She stared at him, her anger and indignation deflating and the first tears springing to her eyes. “Oh, Oliver,” she whispered. “I know what happened wasn’t your fault. And it is kind of you to wish you could have been the one to make things right. But regardless, you must understand why I don’t wish such entertainment in our home.”
    â€œI’ll explain your concerns to my companions,” he said after a long hesitation. He used his knife to trace a pattern across his dirty plate. “About Blackthorne.”
    She tensed. “Yes?”
    â€œWhat do you plan to do about him? He seems to be—hanging about, intruding on everything. I don’t like his superior airs.”
    â€œHe is my husband—for now. You know I’ve written to my lawyers to discover my options. Until I hear back and make a decision . . .” Her voice trailed off.
    â€œHe knows he’s unwelcome. If he were any kind of man, he’d leave.”
    â€œLeave?” she replied, bewildered. “He’s injured, Oliver. And he promised Papa he would see to our welfare.”
    â€œBy his clothing, he doesn’t have any money to do so,” Oliver said with a faint sneer.
    â€œHe’s been in uniform for years.” She felt suddenly tired. She’d been defending Oliver to Lord Blackthorne, and now she found herself defending Lord Blackthorne to Oliver. “And it’s not about money. You know that.” But there was always a deep part of her that worried that maybe money really did play a part in Lord Blackthorne’s sudden appearance. “Be patient, Oliver. I appreciate your spending time with him. He has little enough to do here, and I don’t wish him to be bored.”
    â€œIf he’s bored, he’ll leave sooner.”
    â€œNo, he won’t. Surely you see that. He believes that it is best we stay married.”
    â€œOf course he does,” Oliver said with sarcasm.
    â€œPerhaps if you spend time with him, you could help me make the decision about my marriage.”
    â€œThat’s easy. Annul the thing.”
    â€œYou know it’s not that easy. I like being an independent woman rather than a ward to my guardian, which I’ll be once again if my marriage is ruled invalid. Surely you can understand that since you’re about to reach your own majority.” Then a guardian wouldn’t be the one giving Cecilia permission to manage the estates—it would be Oliver. He could take it all away from her even if he wasn’t ready for the responsibility. She thought she had time, but truly, it was less than a year. Lord Blackthorne’s concerns about Oliver were valid.
    Oliver frowned, then said reluctantly, “I do understand. But if he stays here, you won’t be independent for long.”
    â€œThat won’t happen,” she said quickly. “He’s a career man, Oliver. The only thing keeping him in England is his injury.”
    â€œAnd perhaps you, Cecilia,” Oliver