by Sara Lindsey
“Sheldon,” Lord Weston barked, “do you follow? I said she’s missing! She told her mother that she was going for a walk with Sir Charles, but that was this morning. I’m afraid my wife closeted herself to work on her book and lost all track of time. Henry and I were out for the better portion of the day, but we returned in plenty of time to dine with your brother-in-law. That was when we realized both he and Livvy had vanished.”
“They never returned from their walk?” James asked. James Sheffield, the Earl of Dunston, was married to Livvy’s sister Isabella. Jason had enjoyed his stay with them very much, though he had quickly learned that just because the door to a room was ajar, it didn’t mean it was safe to enter. He had taken to rather lengthy throat clearings before venturing anywhere in the house.
“Genni is sure she saw Livvy come inside at some point,” Henry said. “But Sir Charles wasn’t with her.”
Genni. Which one was Genni? He couldn’t keep track of all of Olivia’s siblings. He needed to keep a bloody family tree in his pocket.
“I’ve been out to look for them,” Henry added. “They’re nowhere to be found.”
James cleared his throat. “Did you, ah, check the folly?”
His lovely wife jumped to her feet. Jason could see why Livvy’s sister was thought a Great Beauty, to use Olivia’s words, for she was a true English rose. But in his opinion, Isabella didn’t hold a candle to her sister. Classic prettiness was no match against his wood nymph’s enchanting spell.
“Livvy is not in the folly with Sir Charles!” Isabella exclaimed. “She loves Lord Sheldon. I know she does!”
Warmth spread through Jason’s chest at her words. Olivia had said she loved him, but hearing it confirmed was something else entirely. But what would loving him have to do with visiting a folly?
“Some people use the folly for talking, my love,” James murmured to his wife, who proceeded to turn bright red.
Jason coughed and feigned interest in the ornate plasterwork ceiling.
Lord Weston shook his head. “James, my boy, that is not something I want to hear.”
“I’m going to remember that next time I get you in the ring at Jackson’s,” Henry said, grinning. Then his smile faded. “I checked the folly, in any case.”
“Well, they can’t have gone too far on foot,” Jason reasoned.
Henry glanced sideways at his father.
Jason felt his stomach turn over. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Lord Weston tugged at his cravat. “If they are together, and we don’t know they are, they could have covered some distance. Sir Charles’s curricle is missing from the stables.”
Jason’s belly clenched with fear. “You don’t think they went for a drive and—” He swallowed hard. “—and met with an accident?”
He noticed all of the occupants of the room were looking at him with a mixture of bemusement and pity.
“No,” Lord Weston said slowly. “I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Why would Livvy run away right before her wedding day?” Isabella wondered aloud.
“I nearly did,” her husband pointed out, but Jason heard his words as if from a great distance.
Why would Livvy run away?
Livvy. Run. Away.
Olivia had run away.
Oh, God, it was happening all over again.
The realization struck him like a blow to the gut.
“Something must have sent her into a panic,” Isabella declared, “but I can’t imagine what. She must know how much you love her.”
Was he supposed to respond to that? Apparently, since he suddenly had four sets of curious eyes trained on him.
“Er, I, well—” he prevaricated.
Isabella’s eyes narrowed as she fixed him with a steely glare. She folded her hands over her chest. It was, Jason thought, the first time he had seen a resemblance between the sisters.
“You have told her that you love her?”
Jason flinched under her scrutiny. “No, not exactly.”
“But you do love her, don’t you?” Henry asked, his tone implying that Jason’s answer had better be in the affirmative.
“I care for her very much—”
“That’s not what he asked you,” Isabella snarled.
“Izzie—” her husband began.
“Don’t you dare tell me that this isn’t any of my affair, James Sheffield,” she shouted. “This is my little sister we’re talking about. We wouldn’t be together if it hadn’t been for her.”
James raised his hands in surrender.
Jason didn’t blame him. For all that she looked like an angel, Isabella in a temper was clearly a force to be reckoned with.
“I do have to ask,” Lord Weston said coolly, “why you are marrying my daughter if you don’t love her.”
Because I slept with her.
Because I want to sleep with her again.
Probably not the best response, seeing there were three, possibly four, people in the room who looked capable of killing him at the moment.
“As I said, I care for Olivia. We get on well together, and my son adores her. I never intended to marry again before I met her. . . .”
And I can’t imagine life without her.
A vast future stretched before him, cold and gray without Livvy’s sunshine to brighten it.
Christ.
He needed her in his life.
He needed her.
This was not supposed to have happened. When had he crossed the line between wanting and needing? Probably around the same time he had passed from caring to loving.
He loved her.
He loved Olivia Jane Weston.
He loved that part of her that was Olivia, his little adventuress and wicked temptress.
He loved the part of her that was Jane, the magical wood nymph who organized libraries for pleasure and whose bedtime stories put Scheherazade to shame.
He even loved the Weston part of her, even though they all seemed bent on his destruction, because she loved them.
He loved Olivia Jane Weston, every last bit of her.
He would choose now to figure it out, Jason thought bitterly. Now that she’d left him. It was his curse.
“Look, none of this matters right now,” Isabella said. “Livvy isn’t thinking straight. She’ll be ruined.” She looked at all of the men in turn, including Jason. “You must catch up to them and bring her back.”
“Izzie, my love, we don’t know where they’ve gone,” James said gently.
Isabella thought a moment. “I can’t believe Livvy would go off without telling someone where she was headed.”
“Your mother asked all of the children, and Henry and I questioned the servants. No one knew a thing,” Lord Weston told her.
“Then she must have left a note somewhere or, if she did leave, there must be a list somewhere of the things she would need to pack. . . . You know how Livvy insists on being organized. You did check her room for some sort of clue, didn’t you?”
Lord Weston and Henry shuffled their feet.
Jason was just happy Isabella’s anger seemed to have shifted off him, at least temporarily.
There was a knock at the door, and a footman in Weston livery entered the room.
He bowed. “My lord, I—”
Isabella darted forward and snatched the piece of paper he was holding out of his hand. “Thank you, Drake.”
Jason’s breath caught as she scanned the missive.
“What does it say?” James queried, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
Jason felt the sharp sting of envy at their closeness.
“That she’s sorry and she doesn’t want us to worry. She’s gone to Scotland with Sir Charles. Oops, I probably wasn’t supposed to tell Lord Sheldon where she was headed.” Her tone left little doubt her error had been intentional.
“Scotland,” Jason echoed dully.
She was headed for Gretna Green.
With Charles.
“Lord Sheldon loves her,” Isabella said to the other men, as if Jason weren’t in the room. “He’s just too much of a pigheaded man to realize it.”
“If that’s true, I have a feeling her elopement with his brother-in-law will help him see the light,” Henry responded dryly.
“Well,” Isabella began, “she’s not eloping—”
“Damn right, she’s not!” Jason swore, uncaring that there was a lady present.
He was going to catch up to them, beat Charles to a bloody pulp, and wring Olivia’s neck.
How dare she make him need her and then turn her back on him?
She was no different than Laura.
No different than his mother.
How many times would his heart have to be broken before he finally learned his lesson? No, he wasn’t going to focus on the hurt. He would transform whatever pain he felt into fuel for his anger.
“I’m going after them,” he said determinedly.
“I’m coming with you,” Henry said. “She might be your fiancée, but she was my sister first.”
Jason didn’t particularly want company, but he’d learned to pick his battles. Jason was a match for Henry in height, but the man was built like bloody Jackson, only bigger. A well-placed blow from him could probably kill a man, and Jason had no desire to die. Not yet. He at least wanted to live long enough to beat the pulp out of his brother-in-law.
And as for Miss Olivia Jane Weston . . . Well, marriage to him would have to be punishment enough. He wouldn’t let her go. He wasn’t sure whether he loved her or hated her, but whatever sort of fool it made him, he didn’t think he could live without her.
Chapter 19
“You are now sailed into the north of my lady’s opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman’s beard.”
Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene 2
A few hours into her latest adventure, Livvy realized she had made a mistake.
A very big mistake.
A ruinous mistake, even.
“Charles?”
“What now?”
She couldn’t blame him for being cross with her. She had put him in an impossible position.
“I think I want to go home now,” she said in a small voice.
“Thank God!” He wheeled the curricle around so quickly they nearly overturned. “Do you suppose anyone will believe that we went for a drive and got lost?”
“I doubt it,” she said in an even tinier voice. “Not if they found my note.”
“You left a note?” His voice was strained.
“Of course. I didn’t want them to worry.”
He made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “What exactly did this note say?”
“Just that I was sorry, and that they shouldn’t worry. And that I was heading to Scotland with you.”
“Livvy! Your family is going to think we’re eloping!”
She stared at him, horrified. “No. Surely not. They know I love Jason.”
“You’ve a fine way of showing it,” he grumbled, “running off the day before your wedding.”
“I panicked. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell everyone this was all my idea and that you only agreed to go along with it when I threatened to go alone.”
“That will only work,” he said, “if whoever comes after us doesn’t shoot me on sight.”
“I don’t think that will happen. They’ll probably want to beat you first.”
“Oh, well, I feel much better now.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything before they have time to lay a finger on you. I only meant to reassure you about the shooting bit.”
He laughed.
“If you’re laughing, does that mean you don’t hate me?”
“Of course I don’t hate you. I can’t say I’m pleased about the mess we’re in, but we’re in it together. Laura bailed me out of any number of scrapes, and now it’s my turn to help you out of yours.” He transferred the reins to one hand and patted her knee.
That simple touch made tears well up in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Wait, do you hear horses?”
Charles reined in his bays at the side of the road the better to hear. Sure enough, the sound of hoofbeats carried through the silence, and soon two riders were visible.
“Now we’re in for it,” Charles said glumly. “That’s Jason on the chestnut filly. Who’s that with him?”
Livvy squinted her eyes against the setting sun. “That’s my older brother.”
“Wonderful. Now I’ll have people fighting over who gets to kill me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Olivia chided. “Once I explain the situation, Henry’s more likely to hug you. And in any case, Henry wouldn’t kill you. He might beat you until you wished you were dead, but he wouldn’t kill you.”
They waited in silence until the riders pulled up abreast of them.
“I’m going to kill you, Charles,” Jason said in a deadly calm voice as he kicked out of his stirrups and swung down to the ground.
“You can have him once I’m done with him,” Henry interjected as he too dismounted. “The bounder ran off with my little sister. It’s my right as a brother to pound him into the ground.”
“See, I told you he wouldn’t kill you,” Olivia remarked to Charles.
“I’d prefer he not beat me, either,” Charles replied, “so now would be a good time for all that explaining you promised to do.”
“Oh, of course. Jason, Henry, neither of you are to lay a finger on Charles. This was all my idea. I panicked earlier, and for some reason the only place I could think of that felt safe was the library at Haile Castle. Charles only agreed to escort me when I threatened to go alone on the post.”
“Why did you panic?” Jason asked quietly.
“I’ll tell you,” she said, “but only if you answer a question of mine first.”
“Very well,” he agreed.
“Do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that?” he asked.
“One with a simple yes or no answer. Do you trust me?”
“I don’t really think that’s a fair question given today’s events,” Jason argued.
“It’s entirely fair. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have thought I was eloping with Charles.”
“What the hell else was I supposed to think upon hearing that you were headed to Scotland with another man the day before our wedding?”
“I love you. I love you too much to ever leave you, but I need you to love me enough to trust I’m not going to run off one day. I’m not your mother, Jason,” she said softly.
A long, uncomfortable silence followed.
“Well,” Charles said with forced cheer, “it seems like you two have a great deal to talk about, so why don’t you drive Olivia back in my curricle, Jace, and I’ll take your horse. Here, Livvy, hold the reins while we change places.” He jumped down and went over to Jason. “Don’t worry,” he said as he passed Henry, “she’ll be safe with him.”
“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Henry replied. “A Weston female in a temper is not a pretty sight.”
“Oh, shove off, Hal.”
“See what I mean?” Henry said. “I ride hell- for-leather to rescue her and that’s the thanks I get.” He looked at Jason. “See that you don’t fall too far behind us. I’m still in the mood to plant a facer on someone.” He swung himself back into the saddle and rode off.
Charles followed suit, leaving her alone with Jason.
He climbed into the curricle and sat beside her. His fingers brushed hers when he took the reins, and when he set the horses in motion, she swayed into him. His thigh brushed her skirts and she fought the urge to press closer to his heat.
“Why did you run?” he asked again.
“It’s a bit complicated. When I saw Charles this morning, we got to speaking about my, um, adventure, and he told
me something I hadn’t known. You remember you had gone back to Charles’s apartments so he could tell you something?”
“That’s right. His horrible secret. Come to think of it, he never did tell me.”
“Yes, I know that now, but all this time I thought he had told you that night. Charles should really be the one to tell you this, but I—”
“If it’s to do with Charles, is it really important?” he asked.
“It’s not just to do with Charles. It’s to do with Laura, too. You see, she wasn’t running away the day she died.”
“Don’t start this again, Olivia,” Jason warned her.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m ending it. All the lies and accusations. Laura wasn’t ever involved with another man. She loved you, Jason.”
He shook his head. “How do you explain Lord Verney’s visits to the town house the week prior to her death? I wasn’t in residence. What business could he possibly have had with Laura? And if she wasn’t running off, why was she carrying a small fortune in jewelry along on her early-morning ride?”
“Laura was paying off a debt for Charles. She didn’t have enough money to cover his losses, so she asked Lord Verney if he would accept jewelry instead. They agreed to meet in the park early that morning.”
Jason was silent for a long time. “How do you know all of this?”
She swallowed hard, bracing herself. If he had been so furious about the brooch, she didn’t want to imagine how he would react to learning about the diary.
“When I was reorganizing the library at Haile Castle, I came across a diary. I had already found the brooch by that point, so when I skimmed one of the entries, I recognized that it must have belonged to Laura.”
“Clearly you didn’t just replace the book on the shelf.”
“No,” she admitted. “I know it was wrong of me to do so. Even as I read it, I knew I shouldn’t. But I was so fascinated by you, I just couldn’t help myself.
“I wanted to tell you about the diary the night you found the brooch. Actually, I had been planning on telling you about the brooch that night.”