by Ava Stone
Livvie felt faint. Alex had most certainly told her the woman died his first year at Harrow. She knew she hadn’t misheard him, she could never forget that conversation. He was very clear on the matter. He admitted to blaming himself for her death, for heaven’s sake. “Caroline, I think you’re confused.”
Caroline tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips. “Alex told me that he’d been lead to believe his mother had died. He’d gotten a letter from his father’s solicitor while he was at school saying the duchess had passed away. He was never allowed home after that, and when he came into his title, he returned to Hampshire only to discover his mother, very much alive.”
Livvie felt the wind rush out of her. All those years Alex blamed himself for her death and was tortured by nightmares. She’d been alive the whole time! It didn’t make any sense. And why hadn’t he told her?
“As a mother,” Caroline continued, “I cannot even imagine allowing my children to mourn me, to allow them to think I was dead. I don’t believe he’s ever gotten over her rejection, and who could blame him?”
Livvie didn’t realize she was crying until a tear dropped onto her lap and she brushed the wetness from her cheeks. She couldn’t imagine it either. Her poor, dear Alex. The last person she ever wanted to meet was his malicious mother. “I must tell you, Caro, that after that little story, you couldn’t possible drag me to Everett Place to be near that woman.”
Caroline examined her fingernails for the longest time, obviously contemplating something. Then she looked up at Livvie. “You are the Duchess of Kelfield, and you are the mistress of Everett Place. You have every right to be there, but the idea will eat at Alex. No matter how foxed he is or how hurt or angry, he won’t want you or Poppy to be there. You’ll have his attention, Olivia.”
His attention. She had wondered countless times over the last fortnight if he ever thought of her. What would she say if she had those silver eyes focused on her again? How could she make him realize how much she loved him? How hurt she was by his defection? How could she make it right? “Caroline, I don’t even know where to find him, to even let him know I’m leaving.”
“Well—” Caroline shrugged— “I’m certain Staveley and James could scour the Town looking for him. One of them will eventually find him. And when they do, they’ll inform him that you and Poppy have departed for Hampshire. I’m certain he’ll come after you.”
Or she could find him. After all, she knew the names of the bawdy houses he frequented. The gaming hells. Sarah Kane. Coleman was certain to know their locations. Though she knew Caroline would never approve, so she kept that idea to herself.
“You’re a bloody bore. You do know that?” Marc asked as they stepped inside one of the gaming parlors at Mrs. Lassiter’s.
The hell was dark and smoky, crammed to the gills with gamblers of both the highest rank and the lowest caliber. Over the last fortnight it had become as familiar to Alex as his own home, back when he lived in it. He preferred not to think about it.
Alex snatched a whiskey off the tray of a passing footman and downed it in one gulp. “No one asked you to play my nursemaid. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t.”
“You’d feel like a new man if you’d just tup one of these women who throw themselves at you.” Then he grumbled under his breath, “God, I’d feel like a new man if you’d just tup one of them.”
“Go to hell.” He couldn’t tup another woman even if he wanted to. Olivia was forever on his mind, and only dousing his brain in whiskey or brandy brought him the temporary peace he sought.
Alex stumbled slightly when he noticed an open spot at one of the card tables. Thank God. He wouldn’t have to spend another night listening to Marc’s unwanted, amoral advice. Without a second thought, he ambled towards the open seat and fell into it.
He blinked at the young man across from him. Lord Haywood? Alex widened his eyes, focusing on the fellow. It was Haywood. Sarah’s new paramour. “What are we playing?” he asked, with only the slightest slur.
“Vingt-et-un,” William Haywood answered. “You don’t look like yourself, Kelfield.”
“Bugger off, Haywood.” Then Alex turned to the dealer and gestured himself into the game with the wave of his hand.
As the first card was placed face down in front of him, woman’s hand slide along Alex’s shoulders. He barely lifted the edge of his card. The Ace of diamonds. He’d always been lucky at the tables. It was a shame that luck didn’t extend into the other aspects of his life.
“Five hundred quid,” he informed the dealer and waited on his next card.
The woman stepped to his side, a blonde he’d never seen before, and she smiled. Alex wished that he cared. He raised his brow. “Yes, love?”
She bent down giving him an excellent view of her décolletage and whispered in his ear. “You are a handsome man, Your Grace.”
“I know,” he said, looking over Haywood’s head to find Marc on the other side of the room, nodding his approval. Alex then glanced down at his freshly dealt card. The ten of clubs. He turned over his ace, showing his winning hand and said over his shoulder. “You should go back to the marquess, love. I’m not looking for company.”
Alex gestured to a nearby footman for another drink and focused his attention back on the table, wishing Haversham to the devil. He didn’t want some lightskirt to keep him company. He wanted the impossible. His wife. The life he had weeks ago. He amended his thought. He wanted the life he thought he had weeks ago.
Never in all the years of his employment as the Kelfield coachman had Timothy Coleman ever been invited to tea with his employer. However, he now sat, uncomfortably, in a white brocade chair across from the Duchess of Kelfield, his mouth agape. Certainly she had not asked him that.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”
The duchess sat forward on her settee and repeated her request. “You know all the places my husband has sought entertainment in the past, Coleman. I need you to take me on a tour of them.”
Coleman swallowed hard. He wouldn’t take a scullery maid to most of the places Kelfield had enjoyed in the past. He certainly couldn’t take the duchess. She’d obviously lost her mind along with her husband’s desertion. “I cannot.”
“You can and will,” she said, sounding more and more like the duke than herself. “Kelfield is gone, and I am your mistress. So, you’ll do as I say, or you can seek employment elsewhere.”
He swallowed again. “Your Grace, those places aren’t suitable for you.”
“But they’re suitable for my husband?” she asked tartly. Then she rubbed her brow, and Coleman could see all the built-up tension on her lovely face. His heart went out to her. She really was a very lovely person when she wasn’t threatening his livelihood. Then the duchess took a deep breath and pierced him with her hazel gaze. “Coleman, I’m moving the household to Hampshire. I don’t know where to send a letter to His Grace informing him of this. And while I’m certain he’d learn of it from someone else, I have to be the one to tell him. I can’t leave it up to others. So, I need you to take me to all the places he sought entertainment before we married.”
He stared at her for the longest time, surprised he was even contemplating the suggestion. But he’d seen Her Grace over the last few weeks. She was suffering and he hated to see it. Still, he couldn’t take her to bawdy houses and places of that nature. Firstly, it was completely improper for a woman of her standing. Secondly, such places were dangerous and he’d just as soon be sent to the gallows than allow the duchess to be hurt. And lastly, it was obvious to everyone that Her Grace was deeply in love with her husband. If they found him, she’d be more devastated that she was now.
“I can hire some men in your stead, Coleman,” she said, breaking his concentration. “Off-duty runners, returned soldiers, or someone else, and I’ll go with them on my own. But I’d rather not, as I trust you.”
She would do it on her own, too, if the determined set of her jaw was any indication. Coleman’s stomach twist
ed in a knot. “Your Grace, this is highly improper and I don’t want to see you hurt. Why don’t I go on my own and seek him out? I’ll bring him to you.”
She smiled for the first time during the interview. “Thank you for your concern. But I don’t believe it will be that easy, Coleman, or he would have come home on his own. It needs to be me.”
Coleman raked a hand through his graying hair, not ready to give in. But maybe he had a solution. “If I took you on this tour, the places we’d be going to can be dangerous. I could go inside the establishments. Then when I find him, I’ll come back to the coach and escort you in. It has to be that, Your Grace. I can’t let you go to these places and let you see inside if he’s not there.”
look of relief crossed the duchess’ face and she took a deep breath. “Thank you. I think that might work.”
Livvie had been overwhelmed with the amount of work she had to do. The entire household of cook, maids, footmen, Gibson, Mrs. Bickle, and of course Poppy and herself were packed and ready for their journey to Hampshire. She didn’t know how long it would take for her and Coleman to find Alex, but when she did, she would have to act quickly. She didn’t want him returning to Kelfield House and finding her there. It would be too easy for him to leave her again. She needed him alone in the country, where she would have all the time in the world to talk some sense into him. So Poppy and the staff would wait at the Golden Arms, a fashionable inn west of London, for her and Coleman to return before they continued to their ultimate destination.
She didn’t want them going on without her as she had no idea what awaited them in Hampshire. It was still difficult to fathom that her mother-in-law was alive and in residence at Everett Place. The woman had turned her back on Alex as a child. Livvie wouldn’t let Poppy face her alone. It was better for them all to arrive at the same time.
Besides, Caroline and the others had no idea that she intended to locate her husband by herself. None of them would approve. It was imperative they all believe she’d left Town, giving her the freedom to search in peace.
Outside Kelfield House, four traveling coaches were filled with bags and staff. Livvie and Poppy said their final goodbyes to Caroline, Staveley, their children, and the Carterets. It was a bittersweet moment.
Caroline embraced Livvie for what must have been the hundredth time. “Don’t worry, darling, everything will work out.”
It was the same thing everyone had said to her for months. When she learned she would marry Alex. When she was ruined in the eyes of the ton. When her husband left her, never to return. When he fought in that awful duel. When she learned she was pregnant. Livvie wasn’t sure if everything would work out or not, but she was tired of waiting for it to happen on its own. Either way, she was taking her destiny in her own hands. She prayed for strength.
Livvie kissed Caroline’s cheek. “Thank you. For everything. Once we’re settled, I’ll write. Say you’ll visit.”
“Just try keeping me away.”
Then Coleman opened the coach door and Poppy piled inside next to Mrs. Bickle. Livvie hugged Staveley and smiled at the Carterets before joining her step-daughter in the conveyance. The door shut behind her, and Livvie took a deep breath. She’d never used subterfuge in her life.
Poppy smiled across the coach at her, and then scrambled to Livvie’s lap. “Tell me again, Olivia. What is it like in Hampshire?”
Livvie snuggled Poppy close to her and smiled. “I haven’t been to Everett Place, Poppy, but I’ve been through Hampshire when I’ve visited my cousin in Dorset. There are pretty country roads with lovely trees and wild grass. The people are very nice.”
“Do you think any unicorns are there?”
Livvie kissed Poppy’s brow. “I’ve never seen one. You’ll have to keep your eyes open.”
Which was, apparently, easier said than done. Just a few miles outside of London, Poppy was fast asleep in Livvie’s arms. When the coach rambled to a stop in front of The Golden Arms, Livvie handed her step-daughter to Coleman who gently carried the girl inside the taproom and up the stairs to the guest rooms. Livvie followed them inside and overheard Gibson and the innkeeper.
“You don’t know how long you’re staying?” the man asked with a frown.
Gibson shook his head. “It could be a day or sennight, perhaps longer.”
“Other guests will need a place to stay, sir.”
“We’ve pre-paid the entire establishment for a month, Mr. Browne. The rooms are ours whether we’re here or not. And you’ll not sell them out from under us. The Duke of Kelfield will not stand for it.”
The innkeeper blanched at the name.
Livvie smiled. Having the Kelfield name did occasionally have its uses. It was good to see that Gibson had the situation under control. It gave Livvie peace of mind to leave everyone here during her search. The young butler had come a long way in the last few months, and she had all the confidence in the world that the man would take care of their haphazard group while she was away.
Livvie walked through the taproom and up the stairs, finding Poppy still sleeping in one of the rooms, clutching one of her beloved dolls in her arms.
Mrs. Bickle stood watch over her. “Don’t worry about the little dear, Your Grace, I’ll keep good watch over her.”
“I know you will,” Livvie replied, smiling at her step-daughter’s sleeping form, hoping to make everything all right for her. She blew a kiss to the sleeping child and descended the steps again, to find Coleman waiting for her.
“You are sure about this, Your Grace?” the coachman asked.
Livvie nodded and they were soon back on their way to London in a rented coach. After all, it wouldn’t do to go through Town with the Kelfield crest emblazoned on the side.
Night after night, their routine was the same. Coleman and Livvie would roam through the streets inside a hired hack. Coleman would enter an establishment that from the outside looked perfectly decent, but Livvie could tell from the other men she spied from the coach’s darkened windows were far from respectable. Each night, Coleman would return with a shake of his head.
“It’s the same thing, Your Grace. No one has seen him in months.”
They couldn’t keep going on like this. In addition to the anxiety it wrought inside her, they weren’t getting anywhere. She was beyond desperate. “Coleman, tell the driver to take us to Drury Lane.”
He nodded his head and gave the new orders to the hired driver, and then settled back against the squabs. “Are you sure about this, Your Grace?”
“Do you have any better ideas?” Not that she was happy at all about the prospect of coming face-to-face with Alex’s mistress. With any luck he was at the performance and this could all be over with. But if they were together…Livvie couldn’t think about it. Seeing him in his lover’s arms would be sure to destroy whatever was left of her heart.
Once at the theatre, Coleman left Livvie in the coach, like always. In the dark, her nerves were on end and she wasn’t certain if it was the babe she carried or the idea of Alex enjoying a tryst with Miss Kane that had her stomach tied up in knots.
It seemed as if Coleman was inside the theatre a lifetime. He was definitely there longer than he had been at any of the bawdy houses or gaming hells. Did that mean Alex was there? Was he berating the coachman for taking on this fool’s errand? Livvie’s hands fidgeted and she peeked out the window, hoping for some sign of Coleman.
Then he appeared from around the side of the theatre. His gait was purposeful, though his face was pinched. Livvie steeled herself for the worst as Coleman opened the door. “Miss Kane would like to speak with you.”
Livvie was certain her heart stopped. “Is he here?”
Coleman shook his head. “No, Your Grace. I’ve searched the place over, but I haven’t seen him.”
“Then why does she want to speak with me?”
“I couldn’t say. You don’t have to see her, of course.”
Livvie took a deep breath. Alex wasn’t here. She wasn’t certain
if she was relieved or not about that. Sarah Kane wanted to speak with her? She stared at Coleman for the longest time. “What is she like?”
“I’ve always thought she was very kind.”
Very kind. Not the words she was expecting to hear in description about the actress, though Alex had said as much. Livvie accepted Coleman’s hand and allowed him to help her from the carriage. Perhaps the woman had seen Alex.
She followed the beleaguered coachman down the side alley to a back entrance where he rapped twice. A burly man opened the door, looking down his nose at Livvie and her servant. Coleman tipped his hat to the man. “Miss Kane is expecting us.”
The burly man frowned, though he held the door wide for them to enter. When it shut behind them, Livvie shuddered. The corridor was dark and foreboding. Luckily Coleman knew the way, and he led Livvie through the place. Costumes littered the hallway and people rushed past them in every direction. Finally, they came to an open door and Coleman knocked.
From inside, Livvie heard movement. Then Sarah Kane stood before her, dressed as a medieval Scottish lady. Heavy cosmetics adorned her face, and she looked like a strange caricature. The actress smiled. “Your Grace.”
“Miss Kane.”
The actress gestured for Livvie to enter her dressing room and then shut the door behind her, leaving Coleman in the busy corridor. Livvie wasn’t certain what to make of the woman, who threw off discarded gowns from a dingy settee.
“It’s not much, but please sit.”
Livvie did so, wincing when a spring poked her in the back.
Miss Kane sat in a seat and her eyes leveled on Livvie. “You have more fortitude than I’d given you credit for. I didn’t think you’d actually come.”