Passion Regency Style

by Wendy Vella

  Will’s chest heaved as he drew in a deep breath. Need had driven them to take each other with none of the tenderness they had experienced before and he felt no remorse as she had been with him through every thrust and moan. She lay boneless against him, her arms wrapped around his neck her breath brushing his skin.

  “Livvy, we need to talk.” Will ran his chin over her hair.

  “I don’t want to talk. I want to sleep.”

  He snorted, but lowered her gently to her feet. Readjusting her bodice, he then straightened his own clothes.

  “No, love, not this time. This time I want the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  Standing once again, he lifted her chin, forcing her look up at him. Her lashes were at half-mast and her lips rosy from his kisses and she looked lush and sensual and she was his, every last maddening inch of her.

  “You will tell me, and now,” he said in a voice that usually got him exactly what he wanted.

  “Livvy!”

  “It’s Bella. Dear lord, she can’t see me like this!” Livvy hissed, looking for somewhere to hide.

  “Tell me, Livvy, now before your sister sees the flush in your cheeks and your kiss-swollen lips and I tell her what we have just been doing.”

  “You wouldn’t. Please don’t upset Bella, not now.”

  The pleading in her eyes was his undoing.

  “Pick up Boris’s hoof and pretend to inspect it,” Will said. When she didn’t move he turned her and then lifted the hoof and wrapped her hands around it.

  Dropping to his knees, Will looked at her. Her eyes were still dazed and had anyone really looked at her they would have known instantly that something was not right.

  “This conversation is not over, Olivia, so don’t think it is. And if I hear that you have attempted to don the guise of highwayman again, my wrath will make you wish you had never been born. Do you understand?”

  She remained stubbornly silent.

  “Answer me, love, or I will tell Bella how responsive you are to my touch.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Livvy gasped.

  “Try me,” he said, holding her eyes until she relented.

  “Yes, I understand. However, I still do not know what you are talking about.”

  “It would not be wise for you to think me a fool, Olivia, or to think I will eventually give up.” Placing a brief kiss on her lips, he added, “I will know the truth and it will be you that tells me.”

  “Livvy?”

  “In Boris’s stall, Bella!” Livvy called to her sister.

  “Horrid Lord Langley has sent us another letter and Phoebe is threatening to open it if you do not hurry.”

  When Bella peered over the door, Will had his knife in one hand and was flicking nothing out of Boris’s hoof. To give him credit, the horse played his part perfectly, especially after what he had been forced to witness.

  “Oh, hello, my lord. I did not realize you were here.”

  “Hello, Bella,” Will said, wondering what was in horrid Lord Langley’s letter because Livvy had flinched when she heard his name.

  “Do you wish to take tea with us, my lord?”

  “Lord Ryder has no wish for tea, Bella,” Livvy said. “However, I will come with you now,” she added, placing Boris’s hoof on the ground once more.

  “After what Freddy told me about Jenny’s tea tray, I would be a fool to refuse such a request.” Will rose to his feet and took Livvy’s arm as she tried to hurry out the door Bella now held open. He knew her game; she thought that surrounding herself with family would stop any further questioning on his part.

  “Can you tell me more stories of your travels, my lord?”

  “Surely between us, Freddy and I have told you everything we know,” Will teased the youngest Langley as he turned to shut the stable door and ran a hand down the horse who had moved to look over the door, no doubt making sure they were leaving after disrupting him for so long.

  “There is always more, my lord. I want to know about the food this time and the houses you lived in. And then there is life at sea, as Phoebe tells me you own ships,” Bella said, limping along beside him.

  “I think the weather may deteriorate, my lord. Perhaps you had better head for home after all.”

  Will didn’t comment, just looked up at the clear winter’s day. Livvy wanted him gone yet he would not leave until he was ready. In fact, he wanted to look inside the house and observe the sisters. His anger had stopped him from seeing the outside of Willow Hall on the way into the stables, yet now he noted the neglect. The stable door hung on an odd angle and several of the fences were listing slightly. The rear of the cottage was chipped and peeling and there was a crack in one window.

  “We shall go round the front,” Livvy said, trying to shake his arm free and direct him down the path past the back door which stood open.

  “We are not so formal, Livvy, I have no problems with walking through Mrs. Bell’s kitchen. After all, I’m sure I ran through it at some stage in my youth.”

  She frowned at the charming smile he arranged on his face. She wanted no part of him walking through her house or into any of the rooms she did not direct him to.

  Ducking his head he entered and then sniffed loudly.

  “I smell something sweet. Tell me that cake is fresh from your oven, Mrs. Bell, and I shall marry you at once!”

  “Go on with you, my lord. ‘Tis nothing but a gingerbread cake,” the housekeeper said, shooing him through her domain behind Livvy and Bella.

  “But it is my favorite,” Will added.

  He heard Livvy mutter the words ‘glib tongue’ and something even less complimentary as she stomped up the stairs.

  “So heavy footed for such a slight woman,” he goaded, following the sway of her hips.

  “Manners, I believe, are the hallmark of a gentleman,” she said, walking quickly down the hallway.

  “Alas, then I am found lacking once again.” Will looked at the walls and noticed the darker paint where paintings had once hung. They were struggling to survive, these women, but were too stubborn to let anyone see or help. Well, that was about to change and Olivia would just have to get used to the idea.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Livvy waved Will into a chair and then told Bella to get Phoebe.

  “I can light that.”

  “No, you are a guest, Lord Ryder, and our servants have the morning off. Therefore, I will do it.”

  Silence hung in the air between them as Livvy fussed with the fire. She wondered how they had been as close as two people could be in the stables yet now there was a distance between them again. Admittedly, it was of her making, but how could it be any different when she was forced to lie to him?

  “If you just talked to me, Livvy, I could help you.”

  Closing her eyes at his gentle words, Livvy shook her head. She couldn’t, not until they worked out what to do with Lord Langley. If they decided upon kidnapping him, which she shouldn’t even contemplate but couldn’t help herself, it was such a risk and could have disastrous consequences if anything went wrong.

  She should not have made love with Will again; every time he touched her it bound her closer to him. He was her love— that once in a lifetime, happily ever after love every girl dreamed of and Livvy feared it would destroy her to walk away from him.

  “Promise me you will take no more risks, sweetheart.”

  He cared for her, really cared for her, Livvy realized as she looked down into the flickering flame.

  “I would not be happy if something happened to you, Olivia.”

  Her eyes were drawn to him and their gazes caught and held. Livvy wanted to pull away before he saw it, her love, yet was not strong enough to do so.

  “You will never guess who has come to visit!”

  “Who, Bella? Livvy rose to her feet with a sinking feeling. Not many people visited the Langleys even in the summer months; therefore, if they were out and about in the colder weather that could not be a good sign s
urely.

  “Mrs. Popplehinge. Phoebe has gone to greet her.”

  “Dear Lord!” Livvy groaned, tearing off her cloak and opening the wood basket and stuffing it inside. “Tidy my hair, Bella, quickly. That woman is always so perfectly presented she will make comment if I am not the same. Oh, this is a disaster,” Livvy added. “Quick, Bella, hurry and intercept them before Phoebe turns Mrs. Popplehinge into a raging beast.”

  “Yes, Livvy.”

  When she had left, Livvy cast her eyes around the room checking everything was in place and then they landed on him.

  “Here I sit, love, where you last saw me.”

  “Please don’t call me that,” she whispered, ignoring the flutter in her chest at the endearment. “And do not provoke or make any sweeping statements about… you know,” she added, waving her hand around. “While that woman is here.”

  “Are you confessing, my sweet? Finally coming clean on your nefarious night time activities.”

  “Nothing of the sort. I am just hoping you will behave and not tease or… or…”

  “Make outlandish statements about the Essex gang and infamous Dick Turpin?”

  “I always hated your ability to find humor in every situation,” she snapped, bending to pick up a spark that had jumped out of the fire.

  “You are very lucky that I am being humorous, Olivia Langley, because were I following my instincts, I would have dragged you into a room somewhere in this house and locked you in there until you told me what I wanted to hear.”

  She slowly straightened at his words. His gray eyes held a threat that she would be foolish to ignore. Swallowing, she tried to ease the sudden dryness in her throat.

  “You’re a vastly different man from the one who left England, aren’t you, Will?

  He nodded.

  “When you speak now, people listen and obey you, don’t they?”

  “Everyone except you, my love.”

  Livvy felt heat steal into her cheeks at his words.

  “Olivia, you will not believe who has honored us with her presence on such a horrid day. Why, it is Mrs. Popplehinge, our dear friend.”

  “Were there a hole, I would dearly climb down into it,” Livvy muttered as Phoebe’s words reached her.

  “Chin up, love. I’m here.”

  And he was, Livvy realized. The man she loved was seated in her parlor and she may not have him much longer in her life. But he was here now, and for that she would be grateful, because there was little doubt to Livvy’s mind that the next few minutes were going to be fraught with innuendo and snide comments.

  “How lovely of you to visit us, Mrs. Popplehinge, and in such conditions,” Livvy said as she swept into the room with as much ceremony as any courtier.

  “Lord Ryder!” Mrs. Popplehinge cried, delight written on every line of her gaunt face as she ignored Livvy in favor of the large, handsome lord. “I am delighted to see you again. I was unable to attend the Twoaks Assembly, you see, as my dearest son and daughter-in-law were in expectation of the arrival of their first child.”

  Livvy watched as Will bowed deeply over the woman’s hand. She wore a black wool coat and on her head she wore a tall hat that tilted as she curtsied.

  “Ah, Phoebe, why have you not taken Mrs. Popplehinge’s coat?” Livvy questioned.

  “I will not be staying long, therefore I will keep it on,” the woman said loudly, as if she was addressing a room filled with hundreds of people instead of four of them.

  “May I compliment you on your hat and coat, Mrs. Popplehinge? They really are quite the most stunning examples of fashion I have seen outside London.”

  “A man who understands fashion, my lord, is a very rare man indeed,” Mrs. Popplehinge gushed. “In fact, some women could take a lesson in style from you,” she added, looking from Livvy to Phoebe with a curling lip.

  “I hardly think you…”

  “Yes, we are select group, Mrs. Popplehinge,” Will interrupted before Phoebe could launch an attack. “And our stars shine brighter when surrounded by those displaying less sartorial elegance.”

  Phoebe snorted, Bella giggled and Livvy simply rolled her eyes. The man had Mrs. Popplehinge eating out of his hand in seconds and her sisters laughing, which in itself was a feat, especially when Phoebe’s most hated person sat across from her.

  Livvy excused herself briefly on the pretext of ordering tea and then slipped upstairs to read the letter that Lord Langley had sent. Picking up the heavy parchment, she stifled a shudder and ripped it open. Running her eyes over the loathsome black scrawl, Livvy quickly scanned the page.

  ‘I am pleased to see that you have come to your senses, Olivia, and I forgive you for your behavior when last we met. I have great expectations given your character, of us both finding mutual enjoyment in what I propose, and under the right guidance we shall be happy with our new circumstances. I have found a suitor for Phoebe, who will treat her as her nature dictates and on the matter of Isabella, I will offer for her a few days after my arrival at Willow Hall, which I anticipate will be on December 23rd, weather permitting. I have felt the twinge of familial obligation since your delightful visit and wish to spend Christmas with my dearest cousins. Please have everything in readiness for my arrival. Your devoted cousin.

  “You’ll feel some kind of twinge by the time I’ve finished with you,” Livvy said as she carefully folded the note and tucked it inside the bodice of her dress. The arrogant fool had believed every word of the letter she and Phoebe had sent him and that they would welcome him into Willow Hall with open arms. He would get a welcome, all right, but it would not be the one he was expecting.

  They did not have much time to decide what action to take, but at least he was not due to arrive until after the Derby which was on the 21st of December, two days from now. That would give her time to win the race and secure the prize money.

  “Livvy, Jenny has brought tea!”

  “Coming, Phoebe,” Livvy called, hurrying back down the stairs. She prayed there had been no blood shed in her presence.

  “He is the cutest baby, you understand, my lord. I believe he takes after my side of the family.”

  “One hopes he has your fashion sense, Mrs. Popplehinge.” Will sent Livvy a wink as she entered the room.

  “What did they name him, Mrs. Popplehinge?” Phoebe questioned in a polite voice that made her sister stare at her. Mrs. Popplehinge and Phoebe were not usually on the speaking terms… well, any terms actually.

  “Chadwick Hybernious Popplehinge.”

  To her credit, Livvy keep pouring the tea with a steady hand while Phoebe coughed loudly and earned a hard whack on the back from Mrs. Popplehinge that made her eyes water.

  “Th—thank you,” Phoebe rasped when she could once again breathe.

  “It is a fine name, Mrs. Popplehinge, and I can see you are a proud grandmother,” Will said, taking the cup Livvy handed him. She’d tried to avoid his fingers but they brushed hers nonetheless and she twitched, which made him smile.

  “Do drink up, Lord Ryder. It is so cold outside and I know how much you love tea.” Phoebe gave him a sweet smile.

  “May I ask, Mrs. Popplehinge,” Livvy said, taking a seat when there was nothing else for her to do. “Why you have graced us with your presence today?”

  Livvy’s question produced an interesting reaction in the woman. In fact she noted a flush filling her thin cheeks. There was little doubt she was uncomfortable, yet nobody filled the awkward silence.

  “Well, I had hoped to speak privately with you, Miss Olivia,” she said, looking uncomfortable.

  “I’m sure you can speak freely here, Mrs. Popplehinge,” Livvy said.

  “I do not like the Bruntlys!” Mrs. Popplehinge blurted out to the surprise of all present.

  “I don’t think you are alone in those feelings, Mrs. Popplehinge,” Livvy added.

  “He—he abuses Mr. Popplehinge every Sunday when we see him at church and his wife told me that I was a busybody with very little to off
er anyone!”

  She hadn’t expected that, Livvy thought.

  “Well you are not the sole recipient of her vicious tongue, Mrs. Popplehinge,” Phoebe said, fishing out her handkerchief and handing it to the woman as she sniffed.

  “The major and his wife abused Livvy at the Assembly. They said nasty horrid things, but luckily Lord Ryder was there to stand up for her.”

  “Thank you, Phoebe,” Will said.

  “But how can we help you?” Livvy prompted Mrs. Popplehinge.

  “You must win the Derby or at the least beat that man’s horse, Olivia. You simply must!”

  Once again, she had reduced the room to silence. Livvy wanted to laugh. Was she serious? Twoaks’s most proficient gossip was championing her.

  “I will, of course, do my best, Miss Popplehinge. However, I must point out that Major Bruntly does have a fine horse.”

  The woman clutched the handkerchief and, surprisingly, Phoebe’s hand.

  “Can I do anything to help you?”

  “You just have, Mrs. Popplehinge, by believing in me.”

  “Oh, I...I...oh, thank you, Olivia, and I do believe in you, dear,” Mrs. Popplehinge said, sniffing louder.

  “Well, I will expect you to stand with my sisters and cheer loudly then, because there are not many who seem overly happy to see me there.”

  “You have more supporters than you realize, dear. It is just that most of us have no wish to upset the major.”

  “I had not realized the major was such a bully.” All eyes turned to Lord Ryder who had been, until that point, sitting quietly and listening.

  Mrs. Popplehinge nodded furiously. “I wish someone would put him in his place.”

  “Lord Ryder will find a way.”

  “Will I?” Livvy could see Will was surprised by her words.

  “Yes, you are clever and rich, and that man is neither… well, maybe a little of the second,” she added.

  “I have actually already begun to look into the major and his affairs, Mrs. Popplehinge.”