by Wendy Vella
Something moved in Will’s chest at the conviction in her words. She trusted him to keep them safe. He suddenly felt as if he could fell a tree with his bare hands.
“We have never been to the coast, my lord, nor touched the sea.” Phoebe added her voice for encouragement.
There was a space to the left of the ships that was free. Will could take them there briefly, they could dip their fingers and then he would get them back to the carriage before anyone noticed two beautiful women wandering around the docks.
“Luke, walk at the rear!” Will called as he held his arms out for the Langley sisters to take one each.
They made it there safely and he and Luke stood behind them as they pulled off their gloves then bent to touch the water. He even smiled as they gasped at the temperature and then discussed the feel of it against their skin.
“Let’s go,” he then said as they straightened.
“Will! Egad, you have returned to us!”
“Viscount Marshall.” Will bowed to the man who approached.
“Excellent! It shall be like old times, the five of us together again.”
Will allowed the man to slap him on the back. They had been friends, after all, before he realized the man he once was was someone he could no longer be. He held out little hope that the Viscount had undergone any changes in his absence. In fact, the red veins in his face and plump figure told him he had not.
“What has you in this disgusting place? For my part, I’m charged with a commission for my father. Silly old fool, I keep him happy, thus the money keeps coming,” Viscount Marshall declared loudly.
Of average height, he looked as if he had stepped out of a fashionable men’s club, dressed in a great coat left open to reveal a pale blue satin, embroidered waistcoat and darker blue jacket with lemon breeches. Viscount Marshall was a man whose sole focus was himself and he never left home looking anything but the dandy he was. Will felt another wave of shame at the group he had been a part of and the drunken, idle pursuits they had undertaken in the name of boredom.
He realized the moment the man saw the Langley sisters, because he straightened and his eyes started moving, running over them from the top of their heads to the soles of their feet, just like he would have done had the opportunity arisen many years ago.
“Will you introduce me to your friends, Lord Ryder?”
He made to move past Will, but he and Luke simply stepped together, thus blocking the Viscount’s path.
“Come now, Will, such beauty and form,” he said, the last in a manner that left Will very aware what part of their form the Viscount was discussing. Anger flooded him as he watched the man’s eyes trailing over Phoebe and Livvy. He had once been like that, but no longer.
“They are friends from the country here to visit a relative, Marshall. They have not yet entered society, therefore no introductions will be made.”
“But we never gave a fig for the rules, and surely I can get a jump on the others, especially with the beauty, Will. That bodice is filled to perfection.”
“If you wish to keep breathing, I suggest you lift your eyes.”
“What!”
“Luke, take the ladies back to the carriage, please.”
Will’s words were not spoken loudly, but his friend heard them clearly, as well as the anger beneath. In seconds, Livvy and Phoebe were being escorted back to the carriage. Neither, he was relieved to see, were questioning his orders, although Livvy sent him a look that he was sure meant she wanted a full explanation later.
“I find your manner insulting, Marshall, and were the ladies not watching us as we speak, you would be flat on your back with a very sore jaw.” Will kept his tone pleasant and his fists unclenched, aware that he had an audience. “But remember this warning, my lord. If I ever see you within two feet of those women, I shall be a very unhappy man, and you more so.” He then offered a quick, insultingly short, bow. “Good day to you. I shall spend no further time in your company now or in the future.”
The man’s lips curled in a snarl as he looked Will over.
“It’s hardly surprising you now have the manners of a savage, considering you have spent five years in their company, Lord Ryder. Believe me, it shall be no hardship to exclude you from the ranks of my friends.”
“I’m desolate, of course,” Will drawled.
Viscount Marshall’s eyes widened as he noted the hostile gaze directed on him. He then spat out something vulgar and turned on his heel and fled.
One down, Will thought, knowing this was the first in a long list of encounters he was not looking forward to.
“You are traveling back to the hotel with us, my lord?” Phoebe asked when he entered the carriage and closed the door behind him minutes later.
“Yes, I have another appointment not far from the Grillion,” he said, taking the seat next to Olivia.
“And all is well, my lord, with you and that man?”
He smiled at the concern in Livvy’s eyes. “My past is rearing its ugly head, I’m afraid, and that encounter was something I knew was coming, Olivia. I’m just sorry you had to witness it.”
“We will not be overset by a few heated words, my lord.” Livvy twitched her skirts out of his way as he moved closer to her. “Indeed, our household has a conversation like that most days before breakfast.”
Phoebe nodded. “’Tis true, my lord. We are not an even-tempered family; Livvy, of course, is the worst of us.”
“Oh, like anyone would fall for that obvious falsehood, sister.”
Will felt his mood lighten as the sisters started bickering. Laughing, he raised both hands. “All right, you have made your point, ladies; you can cease arguing as I am now going to be your tour guide.”
“Wonderful.” Livvy smiled at him which made the last of his anger disappear.
He pointed out buildings and places of interest as they traveled and he endeavored to answer their questions; although he had been absent from London for years, not much appeared to have changed.
“Why are we stopping, my lord?”
“You shall see,” Will said as he got out of the carriage after Luke had pulled to a halt in front of a small building with a curved white front door and mullioned windows.
Livvy watched as Will disappeared into the shop.
“What do you suppose he is getting?” Phoebe said looking out the window.
“I’m not sure.”
Minutes later, he returned carrying two large cups, a man followed carrying a plate loaded with cake and another two cups clasped in a beefy hand.
“How strange,” Phoebe said, opening the door for Will as his hands were full.
He handed one cup to Phoebe and one to Livvy and then, taking the third cup and plate, he thanked the man who closed the door behind him as he once again seated himself.
“Who was the fourth cup for?” Phoebe questioned, sniffing the contents of hers.
“Luke,” he said. “Had I not given him a cup he would have moaned for days.”
“You and he have become friends since your absence, my lord?” Livvy questioned gently. He gave her a short nod and she believed that was to be his answer but then he surprised her by saying, “He is my best friend, and one I could not have survived the past five years without.”
For some reason, the sincerity in his voice made Olivia want to cry so she quickly lifted her mug and inhaled the fragrant beverage. “It certainly smells nice,” she said and then took a small sip. Her mouth was instantly filled with the smooth, tart, chocolate drink that was sweetened with honey. It was blissful and she felt the warmth travel slowly through her body.
“This was the best chocolate drink in London before I left and this,” he said, holding out the plate, “was the best cake and I have great hopes that has not changed.”
“I smell cinnamon and currants,” Livvy said, looking eagerly at the treat Will was now waving under her nose. Clutching her cup in one hand, she pulled one of her gloves off with her teeth and reached for a piece
of the cake.
“She loses all propriety when there is anything with cinnamon or fruit around. It’s quite cute, actually,” Phoebe said, showing more restraint as she took the plate Lord Ryder offered and placed it beside her while she took off her gloves.
“Very cute.”
Livvy could not interpret the look Will gave her as she bit into the cake. For a few seconds, he was her sole focus. Then he looked away and she drew an unsteady breath.
Silence filled the carriage while the occupants ate and drank, and then Will took the empty cups and plate back into the shop.
“Thank you, that was delicious,” Livvy said upon his return.
“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” he said, watching her pull on her gloves once more. “I had no idea that all it took was food and drink to subdue you.”
“Hardly subdued, my lord; however, I am partial to cake with cinnamon or currants in it.”
“I shall secure the recipe at once in that case, Olivia, as I may need to manipulate you in the future.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Livvy pressed a hand on her stomach. Nerves churned at the prospect of seeing her cousin again. One of the hotel staff had hailed her a hackney and now she was traveling to his address. It was cold inside, unlike the warmth and luxury of Will’s carriage, and smelled of disgusting odors she had no wish to analyze.
Will had told both her and Phoebe not to leave the hotel without Mr. Blake, Luke or himself for company after returning them to their room; however, Livvy did not want anyone to know where she was going, or why, so she’d slipped out when no one was looking. Phoebe had, of course, tried once again to accompany her but Livvy had refused. She had no wish for her sister to start arguing with Lord Langley if he said something she took offense to.
The carriage halted minutes later outside Lord Langley’s town house. Climbing down, she looked fleetingly at the stone façade before turning to pay the driver.
“Will it be difficult for me to hail another hackney from here, driver? I am not sure how long I will be at my appointment,” Livvy questioned as he prepared to leave.
“Just walk up the street to the corner, miss, and you’ll get one. I’ll drive by again in a while to see if you’re waiting.”
“Thank you.”
Why did she feel suddenly alone as the carriage rolled up the street? Forcing back her shoulders, she took a deep bracing breath and walked up the steps to knock on Lord Langley’s front door. Her father and mother had once spent time in this house, as would she and her sisters if her father still lived.
“May I help you?”
The door was opened by a footman. Livvy explained why she was here and the man ushered her inside.
“Lord Langley is expecting you, Miss Langley. If you will hand me your coat and hat, I will take you to him.”
Livvy did as he asked and then tugged up the neckline of her white dress. Why did Phoebe insist on making them so low?
Looking around her as she followed the butler, Livvy knew that the house had been redecorated since her parents’ deaths. The colors were loud and garish and her mother would never have lived in such a place. Every wall was painted a different color and was bordered in gold. Small alcoves held naked statues of people in strange positions. It was decorated to excess and to show those who walked here that the owner was wealthy. Livvy felt her anger begin to simmer at the extravagance. What kind of man will not support his family but lives like a king?
“Miss Langley has arrived, my lord.”
Livvy pulled her eyes from a couple formed in marble, doing unmentionable things that she had never imagined two people could do, and quickly walked into the room. The curtains were still drawn, even though it was daytime, and the fire roared in the grate as she moved towards the couch her cousin sat on. In here there were more signs of his lavish taste and the walls were filled with paintings of nude people. After a brief survey, Livvy did not look back as one glance had been enough to tell her every one depicted a crude scene.
“My dear cousin, come and take a seat beside me as surely you must be exhausted from your journey.”
Lord Langley did not stand as she entered the room. Ignoring the slight, Livvy took the seat he indicated.
“I had forgotten how beautiful you are, Olivia.”
“Thank you, cousin.” Livvy tried not to shudder as he stroked her arm.
“Most unusual hair, red and gold. It shines, cousin.”
He touched her head, his fingers stroking a curl that had come free behind her ear. She shouldn’t feel ill at his touch; after all, he was her cousin, but suddenly Livvy had an urge to run from the room. Clenching her fists, she stopped herself from slapping his hand aside.
“How are you, cousin?” Livvy said quickly.
“Very well as you can see, Olivia,” he said, giving the curl a sharp tug, which left her scalp stinging before he released it. “But tell me, how is it that you are staying at the Grillion when you have no money?”
“Lord Ryder procured the rooms for us, cousin.”
“And what payment is he asking for such a generous offering?”
“Offering, cousin?” Olivia kept smiling as she looked at his sweaty, blotted face. He was a vile-looking man, even more so now he had put on weight and his teeth, she noted, were stained yellow as he smiled back at her.
“Come, Olivia, why would Lord Ryder put you up in an expensive hotel if he did not want something from you?’
She knew then what he eluded, too.
“We are friends of longstanding, Lord Langley. Lord Ryder is merely doing Phoebe and I a favor, nothing more.” Livvy held her breath as his eyes swept over her chest.
“How kind of him,” he said, as the door once again opened and a maid brought the tea tray and placed it on the table.
“Thank you, Hester. We shall look after ourselves.”
Livvy wanted to tell Hester to stay, yet knew she had no right to do so. The sound of the door shutting behind the maid did nothing to ease her tension.
“Do you like what I have done with the room, cousin?”
No, it’s vile, Livvy wanted to say. Instead she said, “It is lovely, cousin.”
“It took me quite some time to get it exactly how I wanted it but I think the effect is quite something, don’t you? The pictures, of course, are what make it so special. Have a good look at them, cousin; I’m sure you will get pleasure from them as many of my guests do.
“I fear they are not to my taste,” Livvy said, reaching for the teapot. “Shall I pour, cousin?” she then asked, eager to change the subject before she told him what she really thought of him and his paintings.
His chuckle was unpleasant.
“Forgive me, Olivia. My artwork must frighten you. After all, you are just a naïve, young innocent.”
“Do you take milk and sugar, cousin?”
“Both,” he said, and chuckled again.
Livvy handed him his tea but did not take hers because her hands were shaking and she did not want him to see that. He was a loathsome, hideous man and she wanted to leave the room, but would not until she had said what she’d come to say. He was also a pig, Livvy thought, as he took a large mouthful and made a gulping sound as he swallowed. She tried to shift along the seat but he was so fat and seemed to take up most of the space, and she would fall off the edge if she moved any further.
“Now, cousin, tell me all your problems and I shall endeavor to find a solution for them.”
Did he mean that? Livvy wondered as he finished speaking.
“I fear we have no money, and if you force us to leave Willow Hall then we will have nowhere to live, either. I have tried not to burden you, cousin, but now, however, our plight is desperate.”
“You are to be commended, Olivia, for looking after your family for so long. However, now it is time to lean on me.”
“Really?” Olivia hardly dared to believe what he said. Was it really going to be all right? She watched him lower his cup to the table and then acc
epted the heavy arm he draped around her waist as surely it was a comforting gesture. Perhaps Phoebe had misjudged him and he was a good man after all? Livvy pushed aside the niggling fears inside her and forced herself to smile
“Of course, my financial support will come at a price that I’m sure will be acceptable to all the lovely Langley ladies.”
“A price?” Livvy felt an icy chill of fear.
“You are really quite beautiful, aren’t you, little cousin. My friends are going to be most happy with you.”
“I don’t understand, my lord. What have your friends to do with your support of us?”
“Here are my demands, Olivia, and if you do not accept them then I will be forced to tell your naughty little secret to the world.”
The arm around her waist tightened and Livvy felt his other hand touch her thigh as he moved her closer.
“Please unhand me, cousin.”
“Don’t you want to know what secret, Olivia?”
She began to struggle against him as the hand slowly moved higher.
“I know that your father killed himself, Olivia, and that you hid the evidence.”
“No!”
“Stop fighting and I will tell you how I found it,” he whispered into her ear.
Nausea clawed at her as his hand stroked her stomach. Biting her lip, she tried to keep still as he spoke.
“When I came for the funeral I found myself in your room, Olivia, and under your bed there was a small box. I took it and kept it because I knew one day that what was inside would be useful to use against you.”
“No!”
She had wanted to destroy the note her father had left behind, begging his daughters’ forgiveness for ending his life, but had never found the strength to do so.
Fool!
“Those words brought a tear to my eye, sweet cousin. ‘I’m sorry, daughters, for leaving you, but I can no longer endure the pain in my heart’.”
“H—he was not himself,” Olivia cried, trying to push his hands off her body. “Pain from his injury had twisted his mind.”
“But the shame that will be brought down on you, cousin...how will you and your sisters ever hold your heads up? And what of your parents? Their reputations will be in tatters at your feet.