“Langley, I’ll be sure to notify you when the final arrangements are made,” her father spoke, drawing her attention. Though he directed his statement to Langley, his eyes were focused on Olivia.
Olivia felt a shiver of premonition tickle her spine.
“Yes, yes. And thank you, Lord Langley. We’ll be in touch.” Her mother’s more effusive tones were anything but comforting.
Lord Langley bowed crisply to her mother and then turned, facing Olivia. “Until later,” he murmured. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips, then lower as if studying her frame.
Later? As in… “Pardon?” Olivia felt herself say.
Lord Langley’s lips twitched slightly.
She raised an eyebrow, daring him.
Clearing his throat, he shot her an amused glance and took his leave.
She watched as he left, his broad shoulders cutting a fine figure.
“Olivia?” Her father’s voice broke through her admiration.
“Yes?” She reluctantly turned to face him.
“Please accompany me to my study.” He rocked on his heels and waited for her to precede him into the rich wood-paneled room. The sound of swishing skirts alerted her that her mother was close behind. Taking a deep breath, she heard the door click shut. Her father walked around to sit behind his mammoth mahogany desk, gesturing to the seats before him. Olivia and her mother each took a seat, her mother still regarding her coolly.
“I find myself… confused,” Olivia started. “Not that I object to Lord Langley being in our home. It just comes rather… unexpectedly.” She amended, lest they suspected anything.
“I must say that this day has brought about a most unexpected turn of events. Her father sighed and leaned back in his chair. Folding his hands over his chest, he began to explain.
“Not an hour ago, Lord Langley came to the door requesting a meeting. Being quite shocked at his invitation, I admitted him in and listened to what is likely the most astonishing and twisted tale I’ve ever heard. I trust that the particulars will be laid out eventually, at least the ones that are necessary. However, one conclusion was reached.”
“Oh?” Olivia’s gaze darted between her parents, impatiently waiting.
“We are free of the threat of scandal!” her mother all but shouted.
Olivia glanced back to see her mother smiling happily and waving her handkerchief in the air as if celebrating.
“That is wonderful.” Olivia smiled, thankful that her family was no longer under such a dark veil of a threat. Yet, as she looked back to her father, she felt the smile slip from her face in light of the dark expression clouding his eyes.
“Freedom is never free, Olivia. He asked a price. I was — am — reluctant to abide by it, yet I see no choice.” He stood and walked toward the fire, pacing.
“What price?” Olivia’s mind was spinning. Had he asked for such a large sum of money that they were now penniless? It didn’t matter to her, at least not much. She would be thankful if they couldn’t keep their home in London, smelly wretched place that it was.
London that is.
Not the house.
“Before I tell you, you must understand that I have his utter oath that no harm will come to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” her father answered, toneless.
“I don’t understand.” Olivia felt her face scrunch up in impatient curiosity, yet a pang of warning sent shivers down her spine.
“In order for him to… turn over the questionable documents and items that could implicate your sister and ruin our family…” Her father eyed her, as if conveying the deep meaning of those very things. “…he asked, in return, for you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. He left to arrange for a special license, and you’ll be wed at St. George’s by the end of the week.”
“Wed? To Lord Langley?” Olivia asked, her mind spinning, unable to find traction in understanding what was taking place.
“Yes. And as I said, I have his utter promise that you will not come to harm—“
“Olivia, we had no choice,” her mother cut in. “If you only knew—“
“Then tell me!” Olivia demanded, using a bold tone. The situation was beyond confusing, not unwelcome, but sudden. A thousand questions blurred in her mind, yet what angered her the most was that she was a pawn in a circumstance to which she wasn’t even allowed to know the particulars. Obviously this had to do with Marybelle, yet she was still not allowed to know any semblance of detail! Anything that altered one’s life so monumentally — marriage, no less — should have honesty as a precursor! Shouldn’t it?
“That, my dear, we cannot do,” her father answered.
“Why?” she asked, hurt.
“Because he asked to be the one to explain,” her mother scoffed. “Regardless, we had no choice.”
Yet Olivia knew that wasn’t true.
No.
In truth, they could have left London.
They could have rusticated in the country.
But, to her mother, and sadly, to her father, London life was far more important than she dared comprehend. She felt betrayed by her parents. Indeed, her heart hammered with the awareness and anticipation that Lord Langley would be her husband — but it was a bitter edge to know that she was simply… sold. Had her parents known her attachment to the forsaken lord, and then they had accepted his terms, that would be one thing. A blessing even. Yet for them to not know and to choose to pawn her off in order to save their own reputations hurt.
A tear pricked her eye, yet she fought it back.
“Is there anything further?” she asked, toneless.
She glanced to her father. He shook his head, excusing her with a dismissive wave of his hand, and she took her leave. As soon as she passed the threshold of the study, the tears began to pool and trail down her cheeks.
Blindly she rushed to her room, thankful to not intercept any servants on her way. Straightaway she entered her bedroom and closed the door. How was it that gaining the very thing she had wanted had turned into a nightmare?
Why did finally attaining Lord Langley’s attention, somehow feel like a sentence rather than a joy?
If she were honest with herself, she knew the answer.
Coupled with the betrayal of her parents, everything she knew about Lord Langley was either from several years ago, or through Mr. Sheppard.
And when he had approached her, he’d immediately drawn her into seclusion and kissed her senseless.
Not that she minded, but it did beg the question.
Was Langley after her? Or was this simply some elaborate scheme for revenge? Was this just the proof of the rumor? It wasn’t a secret how his love for her sister had grown to hatred after her death.
Was he exacting that very price from Olivia?
Her heart was broken because, as much as she feared his motives, she still rejoiced that she would be his.
Because, even if his attentions had been to deceive; hers had been in earnest.
As if finally finding her center, Olivia refused to cry any longer.
What was done was done.
In a way, she had succeeded — succeeded in a way she hadn't thought possible.
There was only thing left to do, and if she could achieve the impossible and have Langley as her husband, she should certainly be able to accomplish the final step.
After all, if someone was married her, it could not be that difficult to make them fall in love with her as well.
A ghost of a smile teased her salty lips.
Yes.
Lord Langley may be after revenge, but Olivia was after something far more dangerous.
His heart.
CHAPTER NINE
WHILE WALKING THROUGH THE park toward her house, he had thought he was imagining her voice. The soft call of his name on her lips had surely been some sort of wishful thinking. But when Edward turned and saw Miss Olivia approaching him, he’d realized he hadn’t been imagining anything; rath
er, for once, fate had been kind. Her soft blue eyes had searched his; innocent and comforting she’d seemed to be concerned… about him.
How long had it been since someone worried over his welfare?
Someone other than Curtis.
If she didn’t care for him in the least, then why would she concern herself with taking such a risk as approaching him in public? Granted it had been early — uncommonly early. However, there had still been people about.
After all, he’d been out and about, had he not?
Yet, she hadn’t seemed to even consider herself, and her gaze had been so intent he felt the need to glance away. Not out of insecurity, rather, it had boiled his blood to a fury in such a way that he hadn’t felt confident in his ability to keep his hands to himself, or honor her in the way she needed.
Especially after he’d easily recalled the lush taste of her mouth.
The soft molding of her body as his arms wrapped around her.
Bloody hell, he was aroused simply thinking about it, let alone seeing her!
Since there had not been alcoves where he could whisk her away and taste her once more, he’d done the only honorable thing.
Made polite conversation and excused himself.
Yet with every tilt of her head, all he saw was a tempting expanse of neck he’d like to kiss.
With every word she spoke, all he heard was sound coming from berry red lips, ripe for his taking.
With every shift of her body, all he could remember was her welcoming warmth.
So, at the soonest possible moment, he excused himself and all but ran to her family’s house. Even as he took the steps two at a time, he felt no fear or trepidation in the coming confrontation. Rather, he felt empowered, determined, and, for the first time, full of direction. It was within his ability to change his destiny, and hers as well. He wasn’t going to miss such a ripe opportunity. Hell no! He was going to take it by force if need be.
However, all that was needed was to reason. And her parents were quite willing to abide by his proposal. Especially when he withdrew the handkerchief and leather-bound journal.
Lord Pierce’s eyes widened, and he visibly paled. Lady Pierce choked back a sobbing sound as Edward rose and placed the items on the dark cherry-wood desk. Lord Pierce reached out then withdrew his hand. Plainly swallowing, he reached out again and took hold of the items. Setting the hanky aside, he flipped through the journal, his eyebrows drawn as he read several pages.
“I didn’t want to believe…” he whispered.
“Nor did I,” Edward responded.
Lady Pierce sobbed softly behind him.
“You, you are willing to turn these over to me?” Lord Pierce asked, needing affirmation of what Edward had stated earlier.
“Indeed, under the condition that you’ll agree that I may have Olivia as my wife.” Edward held his breath, his heart hammering in his chest as he spoke the words.
Lord Pierce speared him with a gaze, as if sizing him up and determining if the bargain was worth the price.
Apparently it was, for he gave his permission; though when her father asked for his word that no harm would come to Olivia, he almost swore aloud.
Never, ever would he allow a daughter of his to marry a man he even had to question in that department.
No.
Any lingering tolerance he possessed toward the Pierces evaporated. Giving his word, swearing it on his life, he rose and didn’t ask to be excused. Rather, he headed toward the door, only to find Lady Pierce beaming up at him with a thankful expression, and Lord Pierce striding toward him, his hand extended. As much as Edward had wanted to cut them, as his future inlaws — again — he swallowed his own ire and accepted the man’s hand.
Of course, that was when he noticed Lord Pierce’s attention was otherwise engaged. Following his line of sight, he saw the very woman he was to marry.
Though she didn’t know it yet.
Her expression was wary, confused. Yet a light of hope almost too faint to see danced in her eyes.
In that moment, all he wanted was to pull her into a tight embrace and speak with her, tell her the truth of everything.
The truth of himself.
Yet it wasn’t the time, he knew that. So, with a lingering gaze at the beauty who would soon be his, he took his leave, practically jogging home in all his nervous energy. They would have time to speak soon enough, though the first conversation wouldn’t be of the most romantic variety. If there was one thing he had learned about Olivia, it was her tenacity.
Which only reminded him that he owed Olivia the truth. Thankfully, he had also required from her parents that they be silent on the topic. If she were to hear the truth, it would be from his lips.
From his heart...
Now at home, he planned his next move. Yet the pent-up anxiety born of anticipation and fear was driving him mad. Disgusted with himself, he stood from the chaise in the library and strode to the window, seeing nothing but her face.
The face of his future wife.
Even now he wondered if he had made the right decision. In a way, he had trapped her. At first, he had only planned to ask for permission to court her. In fact, he’d had difficulty asking even that, till he’d seen her in the park.
Glancing to the clock, Edward noted that now he had time to secure the special license and arrange for everything at St. George’s. Thankfully, the wedding plans would consume some of his energy.
He shrugged on his coat and paused. He tugged impatiently on the lapels, then left. It was time to face his future, one that was no longer forsaken, grey, and bitter. But one of hope.
As long as he could convince his future wife that he was worth the effort.
Olivia waited impatiently as Maria took off her pelisse and entered the library, her expression curious and her eyes wide. “I came as quickly as I could after I received your missive! What in heaven’s name is going on?” she asked as she practically ran to the chair beside Olivia.
Olivia quickly relayed the particulars to her friend, who sat there with a fixed gaze, her eyebrows highly arched.
“No,” she remarked in a disbelieving tone.
“Yes.” Olivia nodded, reaching out to touch her friend’s hand tenderly.
“My. I-I, well… I never.” She leaned back in the chair, puffing out her cheeks in apparent shock. “Wait!” She shot back to a proper posture. “How are you taking this? Are you doing well? I know that you felt some affection toward the gentleman, but with all the secrecy, the fact that this is so sudden…” She shook her head. “…how are you able to sit there so calmly?” she asked, her tone slightly frustrated.
Olivia grinned. “I have a plan.”
“Of course you do.” Maria returned her smile, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “So? Are you going to tell me the plan?”
“I’m going to make him fall in love with me.”
Maria waited, an expectant smile on her face.
Olivia folded her hands on her lap and relaxed slightly in the chair.
“Er, is that the whole plan?” Maria asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh dear.”
“What?”
“You need more than that. How are you going to make him fall in love with you? Granted, if he’s asking for your hand, he’s likely already halfway there, but…” Maria shifted in her seat so that she was facing Olivia fully. “I’m aware that our friendship hasn’t been of the longest variety. However, I do know you well enough to say with complete certainty that you will not be happy in a marriage where you are not loved completely. You have a romantic spirit, Olivia. You need love. Not the simply the hope of it.”
“You know me well, but who is to say that I cannot achieve such a task?” Olivia questioned bravely. “I came to London with the goal of finding Lord Langley and, if possible, discovering the truth surrounding Marybelle’s death. I have achieved both goals, rather, the promise of them. And… I know the man he was, before everything happened. And that man wouldn�
�t have asked for my hand unless he felt some affection for me.” Olivia glanced down, clearing her throat. She smoothed her skirt and returned her gaze to Maria.
“I’m not convinced. What are you not telling me?” Her friend narrowed her eyes, studying her.
Olivia lowered her gaze, wanting to hide her own insecurities.
“Wait.”
Olivia glanced up to her friend.
Maria’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think… no. I’m sure I’m searching for something that isn’t there.” She put on a bright smile, clearly forced.
“Oh, Maria. You think far too much like me sometimes.” Olivia spoke in a subdued tone. “You’re likely thinking the very same thing I did at first. But you must understand I don’t have a choice. My father already gave his word, in fact, giving mine as well. I’m marrying Lord Langley. I will find out the truth, and I have to hope that he does have some affection for me. The only other excuse for his behavior is revenge, and I’ll not submit myself to such an option, regardless of the gossip that would imply that idea as the truth. Rather, I’ve decided to apply my energies to winning his heart. He’s already made progress stealing mine.” Glancing down, she almost missed the sympathetic expression her friend gave her. She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze once more.
“I see. And I honestly don’t believe he’d marry you to exact revenge. He’s far too reclusive to submit himself to the scrutiny such a move makes. Once London hears about what is transpiring, he will be the center of attention, a place he is rumored to not appreciate.”
“No, I don’t see him enjoying the attention, which is comforting. Thank you, Maria. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s what friends are for.” Maria reached out and pulled her into an embrace. ”When is the wedding?”
“I’m not sure. My father is arranging a few things and then will contact him, and they will agree on a date, though I believe it will be at the end of this week.”
“So soon? My, my… someone is in a hurry.”
“Apparently, though I wish I knew why.”
“Well, you are a determined sort. I’m sure you’ll discover it soon enough.” Maria grinned.
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