Lady Priscilla stared at her hard, glanced down the hallway each way, and then opened the door so Olivia could come inside.
“Why would he attack you?” Lady Priscilla asked in a somewhat accusing tone. But the girl looked haunted.
Olivia shook her head and shrugged. “He was a bad person. Why did he kidnap you?”
The young woman sighed and gestured for Olivia to sit down on a high-backed chair before lowering herself onto its twin.
“He proposed. Said we could run away to Gretna Green together. But I refused. I told him he needed to ask my brother. And I was having second thoughts about him. There was something… And when I refused.” She turned her head away from Olivia, but Olivia could still make out her tears.
“He was a man who did not enjoy being denied anything,” Olivia supplied.
Lady Priscilla nodded and then wiped at her face. “No, he did not. I was fool enough to allow him to take certain… liberties with me last week. Liberties that gave him cause to expect that I would allow… I never should have. Oh, Olivia. May I call you Olivia?” Olivia nodded. “If only I’d acted properly, as I ought to have, then Kingsley wouldn’t have been shot.”
“But it’s my fault he angered Lockley,” Olivia corrected her. “If your brother hadn’t sent the baron away than he never would have pressured you.” Olivia remembered how the baron had touched her, how he’d tried forcing her. “Did he…?”
Lady Priscilla shook her head. “No! He said he would that night. Thank God the wheel broke! And then Kingsley and Crawford arrived. And Kingsley was so brave.” And then she broke down sobbing.
“Death was too good for Baron Lockley.” Olivia stared out the window as she held Gabriel’s sister in her arms. As the young woman’s sobs ebbed, a ray of sunlight slid across the room.
Perhaps bad things had nothing to do with curses. Perhaps bad people simply made bad things happen.
That and a little bad luck.
Not a curse, though, just life. Everyone had burdens to carry. Even perfectly lovely ladies with perfectly normal families.
Perhaps her father had merely needed some explanation as to why he’d sired a child who was so very far from perfect. And perhaps he’d needed some explanation for why his son had died.
Perhaps she wasn’t a curse after all.
Chapter 32
Farewell, My Friend
Olivia tapped at the door and Mr. Fritz opened it slowly. She’d been coming for the past four nights and he’d never once denied her entry. In fact, he welcomed her each time.
He said his lordship rested easier when she was present.
“The fever remains?” she whispered.
“Unfortunately, yes. But I’m willing to wager it breaks tonight.” Olivia smiled at his optimistic outlook. “You’re certain you’re not too tired, My Lady?”
And the sunny valet insisted upon addressing her thusly. “Miss Redfield,” she corrected him for the thousandth time, but he only smiled.
“I do hope you are correct.” Olivia gathered the fresh linens and sat them by the bed along with a basin of water. She and Gabriel’s valet had developed something of a routine the past few nights.
“Mark my words. You’re just the medicine he needs.”
Olivia smiled sadly over her shoulder. The valet would not be offended that she didn’t wish to talk. All her attention wanted only to focus upon Gabriel. “Thank you.” She didn’t know what she’d have done if Mr. Fritz hadn’t understood her need… If he hadn’t realized…
“I’ll be here in the dressing room. Just come get me if anyone knocks.”
She touched Gabriel’s forehead, hot again, but perhaps not as hot as it had been before? She pulled back the covers and bathed his arms and torso with the cool wet cloth, all the while whispering words of encouragement. When she was finished, she drew the covers back up and lifted the ones by his feet so she could do the same to his legs.
Something felt lighter inside her tonight. Freedom. An absolution.
And Gabriel’s skin was cooling.
Tears silently streamed down her face.
Happy tears.
She pulled back the cover gain and climbed onto the bed beside him. She would hold him tonight.
One last night.
Chapter 33
A London Ball
Crawford’s new carriage, a gift to his wife, was a dream. Plush leather interior, shiny fixtures, and the best springs that money could buy.
Even so, a few deep ruts and rocks managed to jar the vehicle’s occupants. The last time Olivia had departed on an adventure, they had been traveling to Sky Manor.
Today they took the same road, but with a far different destination. Louella was finally going to have her way. She was taking Olivia to London for a Season.
Olivia stared out the window as they passed through a small village. She wore one of her new gowns, a jaunty eggshell bonnet, and brand new slippers.
She’d come to love impractical slippers.
“Are you nervous?” Louella’s voice broke into her thoughts.
As soon as Gabriel’s fever had broken, Olivia, Crawford, Louella, Mary, and Louella’s maid, Jane, had taken to the road. Only after arriving home did Louella question her further about Gabriel.
Olivia had gone so far as to admit that she had developed tender feelings for Lord Kingsley but hadn’t the heart to admit to more than that.
“A little.”
Louella already knew the truth; Olivia could see it in her eyes. Olivia barely remembered much from that horrible day when he’d been shot, but she did recall that she’d stroked Gabriel’s hair. He’d called her Oluvia. He’d teased her about tying him up.
Yes, Louella had guessed.
She would see Gabriel again in London. Of course, he and Miss Shipley would attend many of the same ton events. Two weeks ago, the invitation had arrived. It was to be the wedding of the Season.
The Earl of Kingsley and Miss Victoria Shipley would be taking their vows in St. George’s Cathedral on the morning of May seventh. Hundreds would be present.
“You shouldn’t be nervous, you know,” Louella stated emphatically. “You’re my beautiful sister.”
Olivia blinked, still gazing out the window. “I’m most excited to visit Hatchard’s.” Because she could keep books with her forever. But they also would go to the Theatre Royal, Hyde Park, and Vauxhall Gardens. There was so much to see, and she set her mind to looking forward to them all.
She did not wish to go to the wedding. She wished Miss Shipley well. She wished Gabriel well, but… She blinked again. It would be obvious to both Crawford and Louella if she pleaded a megrim on that day.
How pitiful of her! Longing for a man who belonged to someone else.
“Perhaps you will meet someone wonderful. He will ask you to dance, and then romantically sweep you off your feet.” Louella meant well. But…
Olivia would not allow herself to be pitied. She would happily wear her new gowns, soak up the sights… and when she came face to face with Gabriel at the ball Louella had planned for one week’s time, Olivia would smile and wish him happy.
It would have to be enough.
“Perhaps.” Olivia turned back to her sister. “Tell me what the children have been up to.”
Leaning more heavily upon the cane his mother had dug out from his father’s belongings than he’d wish, Gabriel grimaced and rang the bell at Mrs. Beasley’s residence.
He hated that he still tired easily, but this meeting could not be delayed.
“My Lord.” Mr. Thompson, a quite nondescript butler nodded.
Gabriel dispensed with handing over his calling card. By now, he ought to have been known well enough. Surely, he and Victoria’s betrothal must be one of the longest in recent history. “I wish to speak with Miss Shipley,” he stated. “Alone.”
Mr. Thompson’s eyebrows rose, but he bowed, nonetheless. “This way, My Lord. I’ll see if she is available.”
Gabriel could not have this
discussion with Victoria’s aunt present. In order for all of this to work, he needed Victoria’s understanding and cooperation.
Mrs. Beasley would not be amenable; he was most certain.
The long-time retainer led him into a sitting room and closed the door behind him without making a sound.
His hip still pained him, but Gabriel could not bring himself to sit. Instead, he perused the room slowly. A room he’d waited in dozens of times. They’d set numerous wedding dates for their nuptials and postponed nearly as many. Gabriel rubbed his chin. Had he ever actually proposed?
Oddly enough, he did not remember doing so. Was Victoria aware of such an oversight? They’d both been so very intent on fulfilling the promises they’d made to dead men. Men they admired, good men.
Men who were dead.
Today, his future was at stake, as was Victoria’s.
And, by God, as was Olivia’s.
The door crept open and Victoria peeked in. “Aunt Delia is taking her breakfast in her chamber. One of her headaches.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So, we can speak.”
Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. He’d known this was not going to be easy.
A slim girl, with warm brown eyes, Victoria seemed fragile despite being only a few inches shorter than he. She’d been patient with him and always cordial and amenable.
He’d practiced the speech a number of times but suddenly his mouth felt dry and all the words he’d memorized disappeared from his brain.
“Won’t you sit down?” She glanced at the cane. “How are you? I wasn’t certain you’d be up to traveling so soon after…” And then she turned and dropped her lashes. “I had thought you might need to delay the ceremony. And I understand completely. No one will expect you to stand up in front of so many people after experiencing such an injury.”
Gabriel watched her carefully. She certainly did not look like a girl who would be saddened at the prospect of yet another postponement.
“I don’t want to postpone the wedding, Victoria.” He waited until she met his eyes with hers. “I want to cancel it.” And then he smiled ruefully. “But as a gentleman, I’ll be the worst cad to do so, and it could hurt your reputation as well.”
She held his gaze longer than she ever had before. But she was nodding. And then large tears formed in her kind, chocolate-colored eyes.
Had he been wrong about her attachment to him? Oh, hell! If she cried…
“I am so glad. I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to hear this.”
In something of a daze, he drew in a long, satisfying breath.
She was crying in relief.
“I know Papa wanted it, and I know your father had his heart set on us marrying, but… I want to keep teaching. If I ever decide to marry, I don’t want to care for my husband as though he was my brother.” Her eyes went wide. “No offense intended.”
He laughed in relief. “None taken.” And then he tilted his head and studied her. “I didn’t know you enjoyed teaching. I thought you only did it to avoid staying with your aunt for much of the year.”
“I love to teach!” And then her hand flew to her mouth. “Aunt Delia! She’s going to have apoplexy. Have you thought this through, because I hope you have a plan? Now that I know you are as reluctant to marry as I, I’d like to end this once and for all and move on with my life. As I imagine you would as well.” And then she grinned slyly. “With Miss Redfield, I presume?”
Oh, hell. “I never wanted to dishonor you, Victoria.”
But she just laughed. “The two of you… I wasn’t certain until she demanded that I take her to your chamber upon hearing of your injury. She turned white as a sheet and nothing I said could have prevented her from being at your side.”
And she’d stayed with him. Night after night. He’d been delirious, he knew now, when he tried to recall the week after he’d been shot, but he’d not imagined her presence.
Nor her soothing hands and whispered words of love.
Fritz had confirmed his suspicions after Olivia had departed Sky Manor with her sister and Crawford.
“I’ve always esteemed you, Victoria. I—”
“You cannot help who you love.” The timid woman he thought he knew cut off his words. “Just tell me that you have a plan. I’m willing to do anything as long as it doesn’t jeopardize my employment at Miss Primm’s Seminary. She has very high standards, you know.”
“Well, this is what I’ve been thinking…”
Chapter 34
Tell Me There’s Still Hope
“I hope you are pleasantly surprised by your first ton ball, Miss Redfield. It’s early yet, but I’d venture to say my daughter-in-law has outdone herself, would you not agree?” Crawford’s stepmother, Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Crawford, and stepsister, Lady Lillian, had traveled from Ashton Acres so they, too, could attend Louella’s debut ball. Lady Cora, who had pleaded unsuccessfully with her mother to have her come out this season, remained home with their youngest sister, Lady Martha.
Although disappointed that all the sisters had not been able to come, Olivia was grateful for any familiar face at all. She could not attach herself to Louella for the entirety of the evening and thusly was feeling a little lost amongst so many glamorous people.
She felt utterly out of her depths. Attending a country house party was one thing, a lavish London ball, was quite another.
“Your Grace.” A tall slim gentleman approached the dowager and bowed. “Would you be so kind as to present me to this vision in amethyst?”
Caught off guard, Olivia reached up and touched the pendant Louella had given her earlier that day. The gentleman was neither handsome nor ugly, not really old, nor young. But he was indeed a gentleman.
“Lord Richards, may I present Miss Olivia Redfield, eldest daughter to Viscount Hallowell and sister to the Duchess of Crawford? Miss Redfield, Lord Richards.”
Olivia dipped into a curtsey—she’d finally gotten around to practicing—and, upon taking a deep breath, lifted her lashes to meet his gaze.
At first, he seemed somewhat taken aback, and she was afraid he’d make mention of her eye, but after only a moment, his mouth stretched into a charming smile. “I understand the color choice for your gown now. Although it fails to rival the color of your eyes.”
Olivia glanced at Lady Lillian, suddenly at a loss, but when the girl smiled reassuringly, Olivia’s eyes trailed back to Lord Richards. “How very kind, My Lord,” she responded in a soft voice.
“Lady Lillian.” He turned to the other girl. “You are looking as lovely as ever.”
The other girl dropped into a curtsey.
“Am I lucky enough to reserve a set with each of you? Not at the same time, haha.” The man lifted a monocle to one eye, amused at his own joke.
“I believe you are, My Lord.” Lady Lillian offered her dance card and indicated Olivia do the same.
Before the hour was up, both of their cards had a signature scrawled by nearly every line. And of the gentlemen who’d approached her, almost all were fellows she’d never seen before. She glanced around the room and caught her sister’s sly smile. Was this Louella’s doing?
She knew that both Gabriel and his fiancée had been invited. Her sister would feel it her responsibility to ascertain Olivia did not feel neglected.
But where was Gabriel? She hadn’t seen Miss Shipley either. Perhaps they weren’t coming. That would be for the best. And yet, her stupid, gullible, and most undisciplined heart longed for just one glance.
What if Gabriel still ailed from his wound?
She didn’t have much time to contemplate the matter as the first of her partners stepped into her line of vision to claim her for the set.
And then the next, and the next. Only a few of the gentlemen failed to stare into her eyes when they spoke to her. And she did her best to focus all her concentration upon her partners, although she refused the few who dared ask her to walk onto the terrace.
No wonder Gabriel had insisted u
pon escorting her on that night long ago. He’d realized how horrid so-called gentlemen could be.
The music ended and Olivia curtsied to her partner. “Thank you, My Lord.” He was a lord, wasn’t he? She’d lost track quite some time ago as to who was who, let along who was what.
“It has been my pleasure. I notice you are free for the next dance. Won't you take a turn with me in the garden?”
Olivia was shaking her head before he finished asking. “If you’ll escort me to my chaperones, I think I’ll sit this one out.” But she smiled. Likely he was harmless, one of her younger partners, she guessed based upon the spots on his face, his blond hair, and sparkling blue eyes.
But she could not be sure.
“I asked Gilbert Fellowes to fetch us both lemonades.” Lady Lillian’s cheeks were flushed, and she seemed more animated than Olivia had ever seen her before.
“You are enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, I forgot what fun it was to dance to such magnificent music, in a ballroom.” She smiled and handed Olivia the glass.
The liquid wasn’t very cold, but it was sweet and quenched her thirst.
“Did you hear about poor Kingsley?” Lady Lillian leaned forward to ask.
Olivia’s eyes flew open wide. Had he taken a turn for the worse? It was not possible!
“Miss Shipley jilted him.”
Good Lord, Olivia thought she’d have fainted if she had remained standing. But…
“How do you know?”
“Mrs. Beasley’s housekeeper told Lady Creighton’s cook, who told Lady Creighton’s maid, who told Lady Creighton.”
“Who is Lady Creighton?”
In answer, Lady Lillian gestured toward an elderly lady surrounded by other elderly ladies across the room.
“But… when?” And then, “Why?”
And where was Gabriel? Was he heartbroken?
The Perfect Spinster: A Regency Romance (The Not So Saintly Sisters Book 2) Page 24