A Scandalous Pursuit

by Ava Stone

  Love always,

  Olivia

  Liv,

  Please do not concern yourself about Captain Seaton at all. In hindsight, I have quite decided that I do not care one whit for that supercilious seaman. Besides, I could never be content with a man who thought he could dictate who my friends should be. I am certain your Kelfield would never do such a thing. Please tell me that he treats you well.

  Your curious friend,

  Cordie

  Cordie,

  I am sorry to hear about Captain Seaton, though I understand your concerns completely. You may rest at ease about Kelfield. His Grace treats me exceedingly well, and despite not being able to see you, I am quite happy. Kelfield and I will indeed be at Cousin Caroline’s ball. I so look forward to seeing you there. I will ask my cousin to have gaming set up as well, since I know Lady Avery loves the tables. Hopefully, we will have the opportunity to speak freely.

  Always yours,

  Livvie

  When Alex returned from an afternoon spent at his club, trying his damndest to look respectable for all the world, he was surprised to find Olivia solemnly flipping pages of a book in their yellow parlor. She didn’t appear to be reading, just staring blankly at the pages. He couldn’t imagine what could possibly have upset her, and he frowned stepping into the room. “How are you, sweetheart?”

  She smiled softly and dropped the book to her lap. “Hello.”

  It was a forced smile. He didn’t know everything there was to know about his wife, but he knew a feigned smiled when he saw it. No dimple. That was the secret. He crossed the room and took the spot beside his wife, tucking her under his arm. “How was your shopping excursion? Tell me you ordered something sheer to wear just for me.”

  Olivia blinked at him. “Pardon?” she asked.

  He dipped his head and inhaled the lilac scent of her hair. “I’m attempting to seduce you, Olivia. A little assistance on your end would be most welcome.”

  She laughed and slid out of his hold, a genuine, playful smile lit her face. “Absolutely not. Your seductions last for hours, and we are to meet Caroline and Staveley for dinner and then attend Macbeth.”

  Alex pulled her back to him and buried his head in the crook of her neck, nipping at a particularly tender spot. “We’d have much more fun staying here. Alone,” h

  She giggled as his hand traveled up her side and he cupped her breast. She was delightful, and after spending most of the previous day in her bed, he was quite anxious to repeat their performance. There was something completely right about being in Olivia’s arms, something he’d rather not spend too much time contemplating.

  “You are incorrigible,” she answered, brushing her lips lightly against his, making his cock ache to be back inside her. “But we promised we’d attend. And we’re supposed to be respectable.”

  “I was respectable all day,” he complained. “You have no idea how awful it is, having to discuss the merits of high shirt collar points all afternoon with feather-brained dandies.”

  Olivia kissed his chin. “Poor Kelfield,” she cooed. “Did you have to pretend to be a proper gentleman all afternoon?”

  Dear God, her kisses were going to undo him. “It was a testament to my devotion to you, my adoring wife. Now you’d best reward me.” He tugged at her bodice.

  “I’ll reward you later,” she promised, scrambling out of his grasp. When he frowned at her, she looked pleadingly at him. “Please. Caroline thinks this will help begin to repair my standing.”

  The situation couldn’t be all that bad. Despite the fact that he’d like nothing more than to sink into his wife, he also wanted, very badly, to avoid Macbeth altogether. How awkward it would be to watch Sarah on stage while he sat next to Olivia. The entire thing had a very bad feel to it. Besides, no man should be required to do such a thing. “Sweetheart, I think Caroline is simply worried about you, and that is very kind of her. But it can’t be that dire. She’s exaggerating the situation, not intentionally though, I’m sure.”

  “I’ve been banned from the Averys’, Alex.” Olivia’s plump bottom lip trembled with the admission. “Cordie’s not allowed to see me anymore.”

  When a single tear trailed down her cheek, Alex’s heart constricted in his chest. He hated seeing her in pain. “All right,” he gave in, rubbing his temples, hoping he could get through the night. “We’d best get ready then.”

  Olivia smiled, stepped towards him and brushed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he replied, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.” And part of him believed that sentiment was much more true than he would have ever thought possible.

  It was setting up to be a most uncomfortable night. In front of Staveley and Caroline, Alex and Olivia sat in Astwick’s awful box overlooking the sea of theatergoers and the stage. If one had come for the entertainment, their position was awkward being on the far left side of the theatre. Unfortunately, it would be only too easy for Sarah to spot him. And while things had ended well with her, Alex had no desire to hurt her any more than he feared he already had.

  Of course they hadn’t come to see Macbeth—they’d come to be seen. Which they were. Other peers—most respectable, some not—were much more curious about the happenings in Astwick’s rotten box than they were the stage. Well, they could look all they wanted. Alex wasn’t going to give them anything to wag their tongues about. He didn’t even drape his arm around Olivia’s chair, though he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

  What had happened to him? Days ago he’d been a devil-may-care rogue, and now he was sitting stoically in an unfortunately placed theatre box, putting on a respectable face to the world because his wife had had tears in her eyes. He was a goddamned fool. He just wasn’t sure when the transformation had taken place.

  Olivia looked over at him and smiled. His heart leapt at the sight, proving what a pathetic mooncalf he’d become.

  Sounds of thunder echoed throughout the room, silencing the crowd. Then the curtains rose, revealing three old witches on the stage. “When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?” the first one asked in a screechy voice.

  Olivia grabbed his leg, and he nearly shot out of his seat from her touch. But he forced himself to remain steady, placing his hand over hers, squeezing lightly.

  Surprisingly, the first act went fairly smoothly. Even when he caught Sarah’s eye, she hadn’t reacted to seeing him. In fact, she was amazing, a wonderful Lady Macbeth. Alex was happy that her dreams were coming true.

  When intermission came, Caroline tapped Olivia’s shoulder. “Livvie, Sally Jersey is just over there. Come with me, we’ll go say hello.”

  Alex rose as well, shaking his head. “Sally Jersey hates me. You should choose someone else to make a stand with.”

  Caroline winked at him, linking her arms with Olivia’s. “That’s precisely why we should seek her out, Alex. If Livvie could charm her, it would go a long way to restoring her name. Besides, Sally adores me.”

  The two ladies slipped out through the drapes at the back of the box, and Alex turned his attention to Staveley. “You’re damned lucky things have gone well. Drury Lane, for Chrissakes, Staveley?”

  The viscount shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about Miss Kane. Besides, this was all Caroline’s doing.”

  “One would think you could exert some control over your wife.”

  Staveley simply chuckled. “You got yourself into this mess.”

  “It is you,” came an amused deep voice from behind them.

  Alex turned to see Marcus Gray, the Marquess of Haversham, standing before him, arms folded across his chest, a smug look plastered across his face. “A wholesome evening with the duchess?” he inquired.

  With a chuckle, Alex reached out his hand to his old debauched friend. “How are you, Marc?”

  “Staveley.” Marc nodded in acknowledgement. Then he slid into Olivia’s vacant seat, his icy blue eyes filled
with mirth. “What the devil has happened to you?”

  Alex shrugged. “I’ve gotten married, perhaps you’ve heard.”

  “Everyone’s heard.” Marc’s brow rose with amusement. “I was there, in case you don’t remember.”

  “I remember. I just don’t recall inviting you.”

  Marc’s smirk grew larger. “You old devil. What happened? Did you get caught dipping you prick in her inkwell?”

  It took all the strength Alex had not to throw the malevolent marquess over ledge. “That is my wife you’re impugning. I’ll thank you not to ever do it again,” he growled.

  Marc shook his head, unaffected by Alex’s temper. “Relax, Kelfield. I had one of those, too. I didn’t mean anything by it.” After studying Alex a moment, the marquess leaned back in his seat. “I’ve heard rumor that you’ve given up Miss Kane. Is married life truly that delicious? Or are you just taking a holiday from the lovely Sarah until you tire of your wife?”

  Sarah could do so much better than Haversham, which was really what he was asking. Breaking Alex’s balls was just an added benefit. He shook his head. “Miss Kane is free to do whatever she chooses.”

  “Perfect. I think I’ll take her off your hands then.”

  There was a slight gasp from behind them, and Alex turned in his seat to see Olivia’s wide hazel eyes leveled on him. He couldn’t quite read the look on her face, but he was certain it did not bode well for him.

  Livvie watched her husband scramble to his feet, a guilty look plastered across his handsome face. That was certainly telling, wasn’t it? She had always known he was the furthest thing from a proper gentleman. But were he and the lecherous marquess actually discussing women as if they were items to be shared or exchanged?

  Philip would never do such a thing. She pushed the thought from her mind. Philip wasn’t her husband, Alex was…and now he was stepping towards her.

  “Olivia,” he said softly.

  She forced a smile to her face, though her back was as straight as an arrow. “Am I interrupting something, Alex?”

  “Of course not, sweetheart. How was Lady Jersey?” He reached for her hand, and she allowed him to put it on his arm.

  “We haven’t been introduced,” the wicked marquess remarked, bowing in her direction.

  Alex cursed under his breath, glaring at the other man. “Marc, this is my wife, the Duchess of Kelfield.” Then he smiled down at her. “Olivia sweetheart, this is the Marquess of Haversham, an old friend.”

  Which, of course, she knew. Everyone knew who he was. After all, the marquess was just as notorious as her husband. “My lord,” she replied politely.

  Haversham had the audacity to wink at her as a roguish smile tugged at his lips. “Marc. Please. All beautiful women call me Marc, or at least I like for them to.”

  Alex’s jaw tightened and his eyes shot silver daggers at the marquess. “I’m sure someone must be missing your scintillating company, Haversham. Perhaps you could go find them.”

  “Subtle, Kelfield.” Then the marquess threw back his head and laughed. “My dear,” he said to Livvie, “it was very nice meeting you.”

  After Haversham escaped their box, Livvie stared up at her husband. “Well, I seriously doubt he’ll help my standing in society.”

  “Do you want to go home?” he asked quietly, once they resumed their seats.

  Livvie glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “Heavens, no. I’d hate for you to forsake the rest of Miss Kane’s performance,” she hissed back.

  He frowned at her, but Livvie refused to look at him, keeping her eyes level on the crowd below them.

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come here tonight,” he growled in her ear.

  “Then you should have said something,” she muttered between clenched teeth.

  “I did.”

  Livvie finally turned to glare full-force upon him. She wasn’t sure what she was most angry about: the fact that he and the marquess had spoken so disparagingly about the pretty actress. or that she’d spent the last hour unknowingly watching a woman with whom Alex had obviously shared a bed. Both were disturbing thoughts. “Not loud enough.”

  “I found it hard to refuse my wife when she had tears in her eyes.”

  Livvie turned her attention back to the stage, trying her best to appear like a respectable wife before the hordes of patrons who seemed inordinately interested in their box. After all, it was easier to face the crowd than her husband.

  At that moment, Caroline slid back into the box, took her seat and whispered to her husband, “Was Haversham here?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Staveley muttered.

  Before Caroline could say another word, Alex turned his head and glared at her. “Don’t even think about starting in on me.”

  Livvie was glad the coach was dark as they rambled home after the play. She didn’t want to feel the heat of Alex’s silver glare. In fact, she didn’t want to see Alex at all. The lecherous rogue.

  Thankfully, he hadn’t uttered another word to her, and in kind she hadn’t spoken to him either. That was fine. She didn’t know what she would say anyway, and she’d just like to forget the entire night had even occurred.

  When the coach rolled to a stop, she hopped out as soon as Coleman lowered the steps. Then she bounded into Kelfield House, leaving her husband in her wake before quickly retiring to her room.

  Molly appeared a moment later and started to undress Livvie. Normally the maid was quite loquacious, but she must have sensed that something was amiss because she said very little, only glancing at Livvie with concern filled eyes. Then without warning, the door that connected Alex’s chamber to hers flew open.

  Livvie sucked in a surprised breath and Molly dropped her brush.

  “Out!” Alex barked at the maid.

  Molly stood frozen like a statue until Livvie touched her arm. “It’s all right, Molly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  When the maid left through the door, Livvie picked up the fallen brush and started towards her mirror to prepare her hair for bed. It was much easier to do than facing her angry husband.

  “Would you care to tell me,” he began in a chillingly calm voice, “just why you are behaving like a spoiled child?”

  A spoiled child? She suppressed the urge to hurl her brush at his head, as that would only seem to prove his point. Instead Livvie sat down at her mirror and removed the pins from her chignon, staring at her reflection. “I am tired, Alex. It has been a long day. Perhaps we can discuss your penchant for bedding actresses in the morning.”

  She unwound her hair, letting it fall about her shoulders, soundly ignoring her husband until his hand squeezed her shoulder. Then her eyes flew to the mirror when she saw him looming dangerously behind her, leveling her with an icy stare. Alex dipped his head until his lips touched her ear. All the while his eyes never left hers in the reflection. “The only woman I want to take to bed is you.”

  “Until you tire of me? And then what? Will you retrieve Miss Kane from your friend, Haversham?” She regretted the words almost the instant they left her mouth.

  His eyes flashed angrily in the mirror, and Livvie swallowed nervously.

  “I’ll do whatever pleases me, Olivia. And to that end,” he rasped, plucking at the strap to her chemise, “I’d like you to remove this.”

  “Go to the devil.” She scrambled from his grasp and glared at him.

  Alex stalked towards her like a lion, and her breath caught in her throat. “I’ve already told you, Olivia, that you’ll not keep me from your bed.”

  Livvie tipped her nose in the air and sprinted for her door. “Enjoy it the entire night for all I care.” Then she bolted from the room, escaping into the hallway and slammed the door firmly behind her.

  Alex stared at the closed door in complete shock. Women didn’t walk out on him. His wife certainly wouldn’t walk out on him. And for God’s sake, the woman was only wearing her chemise. She couldn’t go traipsing about the house in nothing more t
han some flimsy, nearly transparent silk.

  He snatched up her pink wrapper, still lying on the bed, and stalked off after his wife. Damn her! He didn’t chase after women.

  As he opened the door, he found a befuddled Gibson drenched from head to toe, smelling of whiskey. The butler blinked at him in shock. “Her Grace,” was all the man could manage in explanation. Then he dropped to the floor, retrieving an upturned beveled glass from the runner.

  “Where?” he barked.

  “Headed for the stairs, sir.” Gibson replied, now dabbing at a spot on the rug.

  Alex stormed off down the stairs and rounded the corner. He nearly slipped on a vase lying on the floor, and belatedly noticed water and lilies littered all about. Well, she was certainly making it easy for him to find her. Olivia had left all sorts of carnage in her path to escape him.

  He’d expected her to seek refuge in the music room as she often tended to be there, pounding out her feelings of the moment. But the corridor was silent. He stalked inside one parlor after another and then stopped when he noticed the library door was closed. As he got closer, muffled sobs filtered into the corridor. Olivia was crying.

  His heart stopped.

  Alex’s anger instantly evaporated, and he slowly opened the door. The library was mostly dark, except for where the moonlight filtered in though the undrawn windows. Olivia was huddled on the damask chaise, her knees pulled up to her chin. With each sob, he felt more helpless and was rooted to the floor.

  Though he must’ve made some sound, because her head snapped up and she tried to wipe away her tears. “Go away.”

  He probably should. The sight of her curled up and crying reminded him of another time. Another woman. His mother. And he tried never to think of her. But if he left Olivia, her image would haunt him the rest of the night. He didn’t need any more demons.

  Alex stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind him. Then he crossed the room and knelt at his wife’s side.