Lady Olivia's Undoing

by Anne Gallagher

  “Is there anything else I may do for you, Your Grace?” Andrew asked.

  “Have they started the dancing?” Olivia asked. She picked up a small hors d’ oeuvre and popped it into her mouth.

  “No, Your Grace, I believe they are waiting for you.”

  Of course they were. “Please tell the conductor I am indisposed, but to please begin. I shall be upstairs presently.”

  “Yes, Your Grace, right away.” He slipped out of the room.

  Olivia forced herself to eat half of what appeared on her plate. It would be of no use to faint in the middle of the party. She glanced at the small clock – half-ten. Only ninety more minutes to endure.

  Olivia left the morning room and headed upstairs. The musicians played a lively reel and couples danced and twirled around the parquet. Olivia pasted a smile on her face and entered the ballroom. She had no desire to speak with anyone and avoided her friends in the dowager corner, although she would have to speak with Joanna, Robert’s mother at some point. Perhaps when she was away from the crowd.

  Olivia strolled along the outskirts of the dance floor looking for Davingdale. She hoped he and Ophelia would be there this evening and not boycott the ball because of Penny and William.

  There, by the far corner, she saw Davingdale and Robert standing with Fiona, Ophelia, William, and Penny. Penny had come! Olivia wanted to run over and throw her arms around Penny in an embrace. However, that could lead to another screaming fit and Olivia did not need that complication, especially in front of four hundred people. Olivia turned her back and walked away.

  The music ended and couples left the dance floor. Olivia noticed Bella walked with her hand on Edward Perrington’s arm. Bella stood on tip-toe and said something in Edward’s ear. Edward smiled and kissed the top of her head. Now, that could not be a good sign. Was the foolish girl trying to break her engagement? And if so, for what reason. As the musicians struck the opening notes to the next song and couples crowded the dance floor, Olivia lost sight of them.

  Elizabeth Berringbourne waylaid Olivia and they spoke briefly. Several other friends stopped to chat, and as the conversation turned to the Season, Olivia slipped away unnoticed. She prayed the Patent Committee would hand down their judgment after the Season ended. She could not bear the thought of her name on everyone’s lips.

  Her cousins, Beatrice, along with Constance and Mary, met her at the entrance to the ballroom.

  “Where have you been?” Beatrice demanded. “We have been searching for you for nearly an hour.”

  “Forgive me,” Olivia said. “I have had several things to take care of. How are you, darling? Mary.” She kissed them both on the cheek.

  “How do you do, Olivia?” Mary seemed triumphant that she had garnered Beatrice’s company before Olivia.

  “Very well, Mary, thank you. Are you having a pleasant time?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mary said, smiling widely. “This is a very lovely evening.”

  Constance took Olivia by the arm and turned her away from the others. “I want you to know that I spoke to Reginald about your predicament and he said he would take care of everything.”

  “You did what? How could you?” Oh, this was too much. “Constance, you had no right.” The last person she needed meddling in her affairs was Reginald Leighton.

  “Olivia, you do not understand. Reginald said he knew just how to help. He was very happy about it as well, so I do not think you have to worry any longer.”

  Olivia bristled. Of all the damned foolish things for Constance to do. If, somehow, Reginald could make the Patent Committee go away, Olivia would be beholden to him for the rest of her life.

  “I do not know why you are so overset,” Constance whined. “If Reginald can help you keep the title, I do not see why you are not happy about it.”

  “Shh. Lower your voice,” Olivia whispered. “I do not need this information circulating the party.” Reginald was up to something if he wanted to help her. Blackmail most likely. He would help her keep the title, and take a monthly sum from the estate.

  Constance pouted. “I was only trying to help. I thought you would be pleased.”

  Oh, no. The second to the last thing Olivia needed tonight was for Constance to have an episode. “Darling, forgive me. My nerves are overset. Penny and William are arrived, and I have been wondering if I should go over. Thank you for asking Reginald. I’m sure I will be grateful for anything he will be able to do.”

  Constance smiled. “Would you like me to speak with Penny? Perhaps I can judge her feelings about you and if she would be receptive to your company.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea, but not necessarily a good one either. However, it would keep Constance busy. “Yes, oh, yes, dearest. That would be wonderful.” Olivia pointed toward the balcony windows that were open. “They are standing over there.”

  Constance smiled. “I will let you know directly.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia said.

  Constance, armed with Beatrice and Mary by her side, walked away.

  “Lady Olivia?” a male voice said.

  Olivia turned. Randolph Culpepper, the Earl of Greenleigh, stood with a smile on his face.

  Olivia hugged him, which surprised them both. “Greenleigh, how are you? Where is your lovely wife?” Greenleigh and Illora Ryder had married at the end of the summer.

  “She is with her friends.” He took her arm and led her to a private alcove. “I know this is not the time or place, but I must tell you, I have heard rumblings about the state of your title. Are you all right?”

  Olivia batted her eyelashes to keep the instant tears from forming. “Thank you, dearest. Your concern is very much appreciated. My nephew Charles is looking into it and will hopefully have some news soon.”

  “About the house…” Greenleigh said.

  Olivia cut him off. “You received my bank draft for the lease, did you not?”

  “Oh, yes. That is not the issue. I have just received word that the party who owns the house will be returning in June.”

  “June? I thought he was away for years.”

  “He has been. Unfortunately, he has become ill, and wishes to return home.”

  “I see.” Olivia could not see. Where would she go now? She loved that little house.

  “Lady O, I know of several houses to let in Town, or further afield if you so desire. Perhaps if you would like we could…”

  “Thank you, Greenleigh. That is very kind of you. However, I am set about to traveling and will not return for quite some time. But now that I know about the house, I will make sure to return by April.” Her lies about traveling were getting easier to tell.

  Greenleigh raised his brow. “There is something you are not telling me, Lady O.”

  Olivia smiled. “There are several somethings I am not telling you. Be that as it may, I’m sure you will figure them all out.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Randolph. You are the very best of men.” She looked out over the dance floor. “Now go and dance with your wife. Enjoy the party. I’m not sure there will ever be another at Caymore.”

  Greenleigh took her hand, kissed her gloved fingers, and then walked away.

  Six months, that was all she had at St. Anne’s Court. She would make the most of them while she waited for John to return.

  Manning rushed over to her. “Your Grace, you must come quickly. There is a small commotion downstairs.”

  “What is it?”

  Manning leaned over and whispered in her ear. “A young lady was just found in the morning room in a state of near undress with a man who is not her betrothed.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I do not know. I was only told to find you. The mother is nigh onto hysterical.”

  She glanced at Manning. “Yes, very well, lead the way.”

  Downstairs outside the morning room, Olivia found Beatrice and Mary huddled around Constance, who could not seem to catch her breath.

  “Bunny, what has happened?” Olivia asked. “Cons
tance, whatever is the matter?”

  Olivia glanced into the morning room and saw Bella…and Edward Perrington. Edward’s cravat was loosed, his hair disheveled. Bella’s lips were bruised and her gown undone from its ties. Had Bella no idea of the ramifications of her actions.

  “Perrington?” Olivia asked.

  “Lady Olivia,” he said, seemingly non-plussed that he had been caught with his proverbial pants down.

  “Bella?” Olivia asked.

  “I am in love with him, Cousin,” Bella said. She wore a look of defiance. It was obvious she was not ashamed of herself or her predicament. “I love Edward, not Stephen.”

  Constance wailed outside the room. “Your father…how will I ever tell your father?”

  “You have nothing to tell him,” Bella said. “Edward and I are running away to Gretna.”

  Olivia looked at Edward. Not bloody likely. Edward’s face wore the expression that he would not marry her unless there was a gun placed to his head.

  Andrew raced into the room. “Your Grace, Manning needs you upstairs immediately.”

  Now what? Olivia turned to Edward. “I hope you know what you have gotten yourself into, my boy.”

  She followed Andrew up the stairs. The ballroom was silent. Someone was standing on the platform with the musicians speaking to the crowd. It was Reginald. He must be ready to announce Bella’s engagement. Wouldn’t he be surprised when he went downstairs.

  As Olivia made her way through the crowd, Reginald called out to her. “Oh good, you are finally here. I wanted to make sure you heard this.” He turned back to the crowd. “As I was saying, after a long intensive search of nearly twenty years, we have finally found...”

  Behind her, a tray of glasses crashed to the floor and then an old man’s voice cried, “Your Grace, you’ve come home.”

  The crowd turned and gasped.

  Olivia spotted her old butler, Summers, weeping, the tray of smashed drinks at his feet.

  And then, her dead husband, Fitzhugh, walked across the room.

  The crowd parted to let him pass. Was that the man she had seen outside the Bainbridge Hotel? As the man moved closer, Olivia could see a deep bruise along his left cheek. Or was that the man Ariana had introduced her to – Bella’s fiancé? What was going on? Could they be one and the same? She turned back to Reginald.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Lords and Ladies, may I present the new heir to the Caymore title, Mr. Stephen Summerville.”

  Olivia opened her mouth but no words came out. The room tilted to the left. She grabbed onto a man’s arm to steady herself. The room swayed again, and then it went black.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Olivia heard hushed voices. What had happened? She opened her eyes. In her bedchamber, her closest friend Joanna, Duchess of Cantin, sat beside her bed. Manning hovered in the doorway. Her cousin Beatrice stood next to her dresser.

  “What is happening?” Olivia asked. And then she remembered. Reginald had found Fuzzy’s long lost son.

  “Olivia, are you all right?” Joanna asked. “How do you feel?”

  Her mind was a mass of churning images all jumbled together. When it finally settled, one man stood out. Reginald. “How did I get here?”

  “Manning carried you upstairs,” Beatrice said.

  “Where is Reginald?” Olivia asked.

  “Downstairs, dearest,” Joanna said. “He is waiting to speak to you.”

  “Well, he can wait forever and a day. I will not be speaking to that turn-coat.” Oh, yes, Constance had assured her that Reginald would help her with the title. That bloody bastard. If she had hated him before, she loathed him now. “Manning, ask Lord Hargrave to leave this house.”

  Reginald pushed past Manning and entered the room. “I beg your pardon, Olivia. It is you, who must leave. This is Stephen’s home now and I do not think he wishes you to be in it. After all the years you kept him away from his father.”

  “He will have this house over my dead body.” Olivia rose from the bed. “How dare you make a fool of me. Get out! Get out before I have you bodily removed.”

  Reginald laughed. “I would like to see you try. I have waited nearly forty years for this moment, Olivia. You are finished as the Duchess of Caymore. Finished I say.”

  “You have no proof that man is Fitzhugh’s son,” Olivia spat.

  Reginald laughed again. “You saw the reaction from the crowd. Stephen Summerville looks exactly like my uncle. Even your old butler thought he was Fitzhugh returned from the grave. I need no more proof than that.” With that, he stormed from the room.

  Olivia lay back on the bed. This could not be happening.

  “Livvy, drink this.” Joanna held a glass of water out to her.

  Olivia shot a look at Manning. “Mr. Manning, a glass of brandy if you would be so kind.”

  Manning nodded and left the room.

  Beatrice sat on the edge of the bed. “Olivia, are you all right?”

  “No, Bunny, I am not all right. That vile snake Reginald has just completely ruined my life.” Olivia began to tremble violently.

  “Olivia, shall I call the doctor?” Joanna asked.

  “No. There is nothing wrong with me except perhaps I shall explode. How dare he? How dare he make me look like a fool.”

  “Liv,” Beatrice said. “If anyone looks like a fool, it is Reginald. How dare he, is right. No one will believe his assertions about that man. As for looking like Fitzhugh, that does not signify anything. Everyone has a doppleganger. Summerville could be a paid actor, a charlatan Reginald found on his trip to America. I’m sure no one will believe his claim.”

  Manning returned with a glass full of brandy.

  Olivia smiled at him. “Thank you, Mr. Manning. Tell me, who remains downstairs?”

  “Only your immediate friends and family. Everyone else has gone.”

  “Reginald and Constance?”

  “Departed, Your Grace.”

  “If you would be so kind as to inform everyone I am keeping to my bed. I wish to rest.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.” Manning closed the door behind him.

  “What are you going to do, Olivia?” Joanna asked.

  “I cannot begin to tell you.” Olivia took a sip from the glass. Its slow burn melted away some of her fears. But what if Stephen Summerville truly were Fitzhugh’s son? The son she had turned her back on. Reginald had probably already informed him of what she had done.

  “Shall Rupert and I stay here with you tonight, dearest?” Beatrice asked. “I do not think you should be alone.”

  Olivia waved her hand. “No, darling, that is not necessary, but I thank you for your kindness. No, I will be very well after I have a good night’s sleep.”

  “Are you certain, Olivia,” Joanna asked. “I do not think you should be alone either.”

  “No, my anger will keep me company. Tomorrow morning I will call upon Fitzhugh’s solicitors and they will set everything to rights. Honestly, do not worry. I am very well.”

  Joanna said, “If you need anything, I am only moments away.”

  “Thank you, Joanna. You are very kind.”

  Joanna left the room.

  Beatrice stared down at Olivia. “Are you sure you do not wish us to stay. Olivia, you cannot fool me. I know this evening has been tumultuous on your nerves.”

  Olivia smiled. “Honestly, Bunny, I am well. If you think I would do myself harm, you must think again. The only one I wish to harm is Reginald. And he will get what is coming to him. Darling, I will finish my drink, then I will sleep, and tomorrow I will fight Reginald’s claim with everything I hold dear.”

  Beatrice looked dubious, but nodded her head. “Very well. I shall call on you tomorrow to see how you are feeling.”

  “Thank you, dearest. Thank you for everything.”

  Beatrice departed and Olivia sipped her drink. Damn Reginald! Damn him to hell! Foisting that imposter on her. As if Stephen Summerville could be the Duke of Caymore. He was nothing more than an Ameri
can shipbuilder. If Reginald thought to present him into Society, he had another thing coming. Olivia would crush him like the insect that he was.

  There was a small tap on the door. “Your Grace?”

  “Yes, Mr. Manning, come in.” Olivia rose from the bed.

  Manning opened the door, but remained in the doorway. “Your Grace, are you all right?” Manning looked worried.

  “Yes, Mr. Manning. I am perfectly well. Mad as a hornet, but perfectly well.” She placed her drink on the table. “Let us down stairs. There are a few things I must discuss with you.”

  In the yellow salon, Olivia sat in her favorite chair. “Do sit down, Mr. Manning. I cannot have you hovering over me.”

  Manning sank onto the sofa.

  “As you are well aware, this evening did not go as I had planned. Tomorrow we will be inundated with callers and those gossips who only want the latest news. I wish for you to tell them I am not receiving. As a matter of fact, I will not be here.”

  “Not here, Your Grace? Where will you be?”

  “I cannot tell you, Mr. Manning. I do not wish for you to become embroiled in the chaos that surrounds me. However, what I wish for you to say for the next several days is that I am not receiving. After that, you may tell those who enquire that I am away from home. On Twelfth Night you may take the knocker off the door and return to Haverlane’s.”

  Olivia rose from the chair and walked to the escritoire in the corner. She opened a drawer and pulled out two envelopes, one large, and one small. She handed the smaller one to Manning.

  Manning stood and opened it. He stared at several ten-pound bank notes. “Your Grace, what is this?”

  “Some may call it a bribe for your silence. Others would call it a gratuity for your help over the last week. I’m calling it a gift for you and your mother.”

  “Your Grace, I cannot accept this.” Manning held out the envelope.

  “Yes, Mr. Manning, you can. I insist.” She pushed the envelope toward him. “You have taken great care of me.”

  “Your Grace, that is my job.”