When Nathanial brought her before her intended, her brother halted for a moment and looked down at her one last time. His small smile reassured her, she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life, it seemed to say.
She returned his smile then turned to greet Bradford. The man studied her intently for a long moment then gently took her hand and turned to the Bishop.
The words were spoken in a blur. Olivia repeated what she was told to repeat. But her world had stopped spinning. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hands shock even in Bradford’s gentle grip. What must he be thinking, she wondered?
How can this be happening? Just a week ago they were bitter rivals. Each vying to outdo the other. Now they were to be joined as man and wife. The thought sent a sickening shudder to her insides. A fact that Bradford keyed in on as he sent her a quick smile to try and reassure her.
He’s trying, she thought. At least there was that. She could do no less.
Once, the ceremony was finished, the bishop turned to Bradford and uttered those immortal words. “You may kiss the bride.”
Olivia’s heart stopped beating as Bradford gently leaned forward and took her lips with his. A sharp tingle flashed through her entire body. A sudden spark of energy engulfed her.
How? Why? The feeling of hope that filled her was a complete surprise but before she could explore it more, he broke away, giving her a small grin as if he knew exactly what had happened and it had been his plan all along.
Leaning down he whispered so that only she could hear, “You kiss like an angel.”
Her heart jumped. Was that a good thing? And since when did Bradford compliment her about anything? But again, before she could examine the incident in any detail, her world was pulled into a whirlwind of congratulations.
The small group retired to the dining room where the new couple was toasted and roasted. Stories were told and laughter created.
They are enjoying themselves, Olivia thought to herself. They are happy about this. Why? How could her friends and family possibly find enjoyment in the marriage of two people so unsuited for each other?
Biting her tongue, she sat next to Bradford and kept quiet unless she say what she really felt. A trapped rabbit had less to fear than she did at the moment.
Glancing around the table. Olivia caught Amanda and Lord Warwick in a hushed, conversation. Both of them looking as if they were trying to convince the other of some salient fact. Interesting, Olivia thought to herself. And next to them, Nathanial was looking at Lady Alice as if she were a silver moon setting over a calm sea. Something to worship.
Olivia smiled to herself. At least her friends and family were happy.
Bradford remained quiet as well, taking the teasing from Nathanial and Warwick. Even Lady Alice teased him about his bright red coat. Without thinking, Olivia drew herself up to defend his choice of wardrobe when she felt Bradford’s hand on her leg under the table. A sharp thrill traveled through her from his touch.
He slightly shook his head and leaned in. “Let them have their fun. It is because they care about us so much.”
Olivia caught his eye and shook her head. He obviously didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. Giving him a quick smile, she turned to Lady Alice and said, “Lady Alice, I will have you know that Lord Bradford wore this particular coat because he knows my favorite color is red. Especially that particular shade.”
Lady Alice dipped her head in acknowledgment, but a small smile crept across her face and Olivia realized she had been set up. Forced to take her husband’s side. Forced to defend his honor. Why had Alice done that?
Bradford leaned in closer, his leathery sandalwood scent engulfed her for a moment, sending a comfortable, welcoming feeling through her.
“Is red truly your favorite color?” he asked. “I thought it was blue. Sky blue to be exact.”
Olivia gasped, surprised that he knew. She couldn’t remember ever mentioning it to him. She nodded, letting him know that he was correct. Once again, as with their kiss, she thought about her future with a small touch of hope.
As the meal continued, Olivia found herself studying Bradford’s brothers. Now her brother’s she realized. Joseph the older seemed serious, taciturn and was talking of purchasing a commission to join Wellesley in Portugal. Brantley, the younger was more fun-loving. The kind of young man who was enjoying life. So not what she would have expected from a law student.
They are my family now, she realized. With a few simple words, she had taken on entirely new responsibilities.
And what of Bradford’s mother? He had already informed her that his mother planned on moving out of the London house. A fact that bothered Olivia deeply. His mother should not be forced out of her home just because Bradford had gotten married. Especially not for a marriage in name only.
As this and a thousand other thoughts danced through her mind. The clock on the mantle continued to tick. Each second bringing them closer to when they must leave and begin their new life.
A small fear still remained. No, the truth was that a very large fear remained.
What would happen? How would it happen? What if he was disappointed in her? It was not as if they could go back to before. There would be no escape. If he did not like her, he could not trade her in for another.
His only recourse would be to take a mistress. A thought that sent a sudden burst of anger through her.
“It is time we left,” Bradford whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her ear with each word.
Olivia swallowed hard as she nodded her head, it could not be avoided.
He stood, then pulled back her chair as she rose.
“I believe Lady Bradford and I will be making our goodbyes,” Bradford announced to the room.
Olivia’s heart jumped at his words. That was right, she was now Lady Bradford. The Countess of Bradford. The realization sent a warm comfort through her. Her mother would have been so proud.
“I don’t know,” Lord Warwick said with a robust laugh. “It seems early to me. The sun has not yet set. “No, I think you should stay a bit longer. What do you think Caldwell?”
A smattering of laughs and snickering told Olivia that they would not be escaping unharmed. Even the footman, Henderson, grinned.
“I don’t know,” Nathanial began, taking up his friends joke. “I think …”
“Ignore them,” Bradford said as he took her hand and gently pulled her to the door.
This is it, she realized. The point where her new life begins. With this man. A man she knew so little about really. He was Nathanial’s friend, not hers. He had always been on the outside. A combatant. Someone to defeat and spar with. Not someone to care for. Not someone who cared for her.
What would her future hold? How was she ever to make a life with Lord Bradford? But, most important, how would the night before her unfold?
Chapter Eleven
Lord Bradford helped Olivia up into the carriage then settled in across from her. Things were going well, he thought. She is nervous though, he realized as he saw her working a lace handkerchief in her hands over and over.
Olivia Caldwell nervous. Who would have ever thought? The woman had always been so composed. So sure of herself. No matter the situation. And it wasn’t her brother’s wealth, he realized. It was something innate within her. Some touch of pure class that let her handle almost any situation with ease.
The woman was intelligent, beautiful beyond belief, and normally very good in social circumstances. Yet here, now, she was nervous. Was it the wedding night? Most assuredly he thought. That had to be it.
The thought made him smile inside. He was to spend the night with Olivia Caldwell in his bed. Most men in England would be jealous. The woman’s body was curved and shaped to fill a man with need. Her sparkling eyes and heart-shaped face were designed by a master craftsman to entice and bewitch.
No man could ask for a more beautiful bride.
A fact that he must not allow himself to forget. If this marri
age was to work then he had to remain in control. Under no circumstances could he ever allow himself to fall in love with his wife. It would ruin everything.
As he studied her, he thought of his conversation before the ceremony with Warwick and Nathanial. They had little to report on the kidnappers. Warwick had discovered that a man had died of a gunshot wound on the outskirts of Birmingham. No name, no report. But the description matched Bradford’s report of the man on the coach.
Nathanial had rushed an artist up to Birmingham to capture a portrait. He hoped that someone might know the man and therefore his accomplices.
Bradford had thanked them and then made them both promise to let him finish things once the men were located.
Olivia stirred across from him, her eyes finding his. The two of them stared at each other, both obviously thinking about what was to happen between them very soon.
Suddenly, Olivia’s cheeks erupted into as bright crimson when she realized he could read her thoughts.
“So, it went well, I thought,” he said to her. Something to break the rising tension between them.
She nodded but didn’t verbalize an answer.
Lord Bradford sighed heavily and was going to try again when the coach pulled to halt in front of their home.
Jumping down from the carriage before the footmen could get there, he helped Olivia down and tucked her arm into his.
“Welcome to your new home, Olivia. I hope you will make it your own.”
She looked up at him, her face white with worry, her eyes glistening with potential tears.
Patting her hand, he turned to the door just as Evans opened it and said as he bowed deeply, “Welcome Home, My Lord. Welcome, My Lady.”
Olivia smiled at the butler and thanked him. Bradford took a deep breath as he followed his wife into his home. Now it starts he thought. His future. His new life, but most important, their wedding night.
.o0o.
Olivia stopped herself from gasping when she stepped inside. All of the servants were lined up waiting to be introduced. I am the Lady of the house, she realized as the knowledge finally sank in. She was a Countess and was expected to act like a Countess.
“If I may, My Lady,” Evans said with a sweep of his hand towards the servants.
“Of course,” Olivia said as she removed her white gloves and handed them to Bradford. His brow creased in confusion as he looked down at the gloves in his hand. He shot her a quick questioning look as if asking what he was supposed to do with them. She ignored him and focused on the staff.
“This is Mrs. Webb, the housekeeper,” Evans said, beginning the introductions.
“Yes, of course,” Olivia said. “His Lordship has spoken highly of your skills Mrs. Webb. I am sure we will get on famously. I am relying on you to make sure I don’t misstep.”
The housekeeper smiled widely as she dipped into a curtsey a little bit lower than necessary. Olivia knew deep inside that she had said the right thing. One of the things she had learned helping to manage Nathanial’s home. The housekeeper was key. Keeping her happy ensured the rest of the staff were happy.
As Evans introduced her to each staff member, Olivia made a point of memorizing their names. Everyone from Porter, the lead footman, to Emily, the scullery maid. All fourteen servants seemed happy, and knowing Evans, she was sure they would be proficient.
Once the introductions were complete, Olivia returned to Bradford as Evans dismissed the servants. She noticed that he had given her gloves to Mary, her lady’s maid.
“What now?” she asked as she glanced at the stairs leading up to his rooms. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach with anticipation and fear.
He smiled softly down at her and indicated a door to the left. “Perhaps we could talk in my study,” he said. “There are things to discuss.”
She swallowed hard, that sounded ominous. Yet, it also delayed things. Therefore she was more than willing to abide by his request.
The study was laid out much as Nathanial’s was. A large desk and solid chair, its back to two French windows to let in a great deal of light. Two comfortable chairs by a crackling fire. Not as many books as Nathanial’s. More formal in nature. A picture of a hunting hound hung above the mantel.
His room, she realized. His place of sanctuary.
As she turned to ask him about the painting she noticed him pouring two glasses.
“Whiskey?” she asked as he handed her one.
He smiled and nodded. “I thought it might calm your nerves.”
“I’m not nervous,” she said, holding his stare to prove her own words.
He laughed. “Olivia, you are many remarkable things. But a good liar is not one of them. Drink your whiskey.”
She sighed internally. Would it always be like this, the two of them disagreeing over everything? Taking a small sip of her drink, she felt the amber liquid burn its way to her stomach. Why do men enjoy this stuff? she wondered to herself.
He smiled again. “It’s an acquired taste.”
See, there he was doing it again. Reading her thoughts. It was insufferable. Was she to have no secrets.
“What did you wish to discuss?” she asked, determined to shift the subject.
He sighed slightly and stared into the fire for a moment, then said, “I realize how much you did not want this marriage. I am also aware of your concerns about … tonight.”
Her insides turned over, where was he going with this and why bring it up now?
“I am not concerned about tonight.”
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. He knew she was lying again.
“Very well, yes I have concerns. Of course, I do,” she said. “Everything has happened so fast. You and I were never meant to be in this situation. So yes, of course I have concerns.”
Bradford nodded slowly as if taking her words into consideration. “I understand. And that is why I am willing to postpone our wedding night if you so desire.”
Her stomach clenched up into a tight ball. He didn’t want her. An anger flared in her chest. How dare he reject her? Today especially.
“Perhaps it is you that have concerns for this evening, My Lord,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance.
He studied his drink for a long moment and Olivia realized he was fighting to hold back a smile. A smile that would have told her just how silly her statement was. Instead, he dipped his head in acknowledgment and said, “Perhaps. But it still begs the question. Are you certain you wish to go through with this?”
Her insides continued to turn over. She could not believe they were having this discussion. In his study of all places.
Taking a moment, she studied her husband. He was handsome, such a manly, strong face. Broad chest. Large hands that could be gentle at times. Naturally powerful. She had seen how other men reacted to him. Listening to his advice. Taking his council. A natural leader. Rich, powerful, handsome. How could she not be certain?
Was she certain? she wondered. No, of course not. But again, what choice did she have?
“Yes,” she said. “It is expected. Besides, I hope to have children. So yes. I am certain.”
He smiled and she saw a hint of relief as the corner of his eye twitched. Was he looking forward to this evening? she wondered. He was a man after all. And supposedly, they thought of little else. But she was inexperienced, to say the least. Would that not be a discouragement? Besides, he didn’t exactly like her. They had fought too many times for that to be the case.
“But,” she continued, “I do have a few conditions. For our future … liaisons, I think you called them.”
He laughed and took another drink. “Why am I not surprised? You are your brother’s sister after all. Negotiating must run in the Caldwell blood. Very well, what are your conditions?”
Olivia relaxed inside just a little. Lady Weston’s words danced in the back of her head but she pushed them aside. It was better to get this out now. Her true concerns.
“I won’t be your chattel, to be used at
your every whim. I am not a possession. If this was a love match, it would not be of concern. But as it is not a love match, best we agree to the terms now.”
He studied her for a long moment. Olivia’s heart rate increased slightly at the look in his eyes. They had become inflamed with passion for just a moment before he brought them back under control. At last, he nodded and said, “Very well. I will promise not to take you to my bed unless you request it. But I mean that Olivia, I won’t join you unless you ask me. I would never want you to think that I was treating you like a possession.”
Olivia froze for a moment, why had he agreed so willingly and what did it mean? Would she have to beg him to come to her bed? Why did the thought sound so unappealing? But it was what she had requested. She could not back out now.
“In addition,” she continued as she fought to bring her thoughts back to the conversation, “I will not share you with another woman.” She paused for a moment when she realized that her words had sounded more stringent than she had intended. “It is that the threat of disease for myself and my child is unacceptable. I realize that men …”
Bradford held up a hand to stop her. “I have no intentions of taking a mistress,” he said. “But, if I do, I will inform you and at that time we will cease … having liaisons. Agreed.”
Olivia swallowed hard, he hadn’t said he would always be faithful to the marriage. Only that he would warn her if he wasn’t. It was probably the best she could hope for, she realized as she nodded her head in agreement.
He continued to study her, that small smirk of his made her skin itch with indignation.
“What?” she demanded.
He laughed and shook his head. “It is just that you negotiated these terms without any real sense of the value you were dealing with.”
Olivia frowned. “I obtained the terms I desired. Isn’t that the objective of any negotiation.”
Catching A Rake (A Rake's Redemption Book 3) Page 8