He’d invited her to dine with him and the children that night, but she’d graciously declined the kind offer. Somehow it was important that she eat at her own table in her first night in her new home.
When she finished eating, she washed her dishes – this was truly becoming a week of firsts – then climbed the narrow stairs by candlelight to her bedroom. Daisy had been kind enough to lend Rosalind her second favorite quilt, giving the room a homey feel.
Rosalind laid out her clothes for the next day and not for the first time was she glad she’d sold some of her gowns in London. Not only had that provided her with funds for the journey, but the serviceable clothing she’d replaced them with fit into this world much better than her old gowns.
She could barely sleep that night for the excitement of the coming day. But as she snuggled beneath the bedding all nice and warm and listened to the wind outside, she gave thanks to God for delivering her to such a wonderful place.
She missed Lizzie terribly and her heart ached when she thought of Liam, but a life of her own choosing was much better than the one she would have been forced into.
And now, a few weeks later, as she sat huddled in her chair waiting for the fire to warm the room, she was still thankful for this life, though she missed Lizzie dreadfully.
And she still loved the man who would never be hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
It could not possibly be morning. But the rapping at the door was unmistakable. Olivia Morrison wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping, but several obstacles were in her way. One was that if she didn’t get ready for work, she’d surely be sacked and while she found her position as an upstairs maid in the Earl of Lyman’s household not to her liking, she had an even greater aversion to being thrown out without a character.
Another obstacle was the loud snoring of the other occupant of the room, Tally, with whom she also shared a bed. As unpleasant as the noise was, the girl was a good deal easier to deal with asleep than she was when awake. Tally delighted in getting others in trouble and bullying those she felt were beneath her, a group that included almost everyone. In the little more than a year that Olivia had been in service at the earl’s, she and Tally had butted heads often, especially since Olivia defended those whom Tally tortured.
It was unpleasant for both that they had been thrown together as roommates.
Olivia rose from bed then hurried through her ablutions. The water in the pitcher was nearly ice cold, so having a nice long soak would not have been an option even if she’d had the time.
“Tally!” Olivia called to her still slumbering roommate. “It’s time to get up.” Tally’s only response was to turn over.
Olivia sighed and combed her hair in the small mirror. The earl placed a premium on his servants being attractive, which was the only reason they had a mirror in the first place. Olivia checked her appearance. Her blonde hair was a little too fair for her comfort. She tended to attract the wrong type of attention from the earl’s guests and he always had company. The man had house parties every weekend in the summer and nearly as many hunting parties in the fall and early winter. And it seemed every one of his toff friends liked blonde girls with curves. Fortunately, she hadn’t lived to be five and twenty without learning how to defend herself. But she tried to avoid getting into those circumstances to begin with. Unfortunately, that was often easier said than done.
“Tally!” Olivia called once again. When there was no response, she went over to the girl and gently shook her. “You’ll be late.”
Tally finally opened her eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” she said. Then she looked Olivia up and down. “You’re already dressed. Why’d you let me sleep so late, you daft cow?”
Olivia sighed. She should have let the girl be late. As Tally rushed to dress, Olivia straightened her apron and readied herself to leave.
“Aren’t you going to help me after neglecting to wake me up?”
Olivia wanted to help her by throwing the contents of the pitcher on her. Then, possibly, the pitcher itself. But, instead, she helped the thin, raven-haired Tally dress. As soon as she was presentable, Tally pushed past her. “Best get to the table before you if I want there to be anything left.”
Olivia rolled her eyes at what Tally perceived as a witticism. While Olivia had a few extra pounds on her, she was proud of her shape. She’d often wondered if Tally’s bad temper had anything to do with the fact that she ate so little.
She followed Tally to the servants’ room, where she took a piece of bread with fresh butter. The one advantage to the times when there were guests in residence was that the food in the servants’ quarters was better, since much of it was left over from what the guests did not eat.
But she’d no sooner taken her first bite than she was summoned to the laundry room. Lady Elling had brought only the one lady’s maid with her and the poor girl had been up all night pressing gowns for the day. She’d fallen asleep before finishing.
Lady Elling had been a guest at the house before. She was not known for her kindness to servants.
The young maid, Amy, was crying, desperately trying to finish the job.
“Here, let me help you,” said Olivia. “I’m a dab hand at pressing.”
The girl looked on in awe as Olivia deftly pressed two of the remaining gowns.
“You’ve a real touch you do,” said Amy.
“I grew up getting a lot of work done on very little sleep,” said Olivia with a kind smile for Amy. “My father was a farmer and I was the only girl in the family. I had to cook the meals and tend to their clothes, usually all before the cock crowed. Of course, there wasn’t much call for pressing. It was just one of the things I picked up along the way.”
“Her ladyship is quite particular when it comes to her gowns,” said Amy. “Seems I can never get it right. She’d dock my wages, she would, if I didn’t have these gowns ready on time. And she’s only going to wear each for an hour, which is less time than it takes to press them. Gor, you have to wonder what these ladies would do without us.”
“Walk about stark naked and even then I’m not sure how they’d manage to get undressed.”
“Oh, her ladyship has no problem gettin’ undressed,” said Amy with a giggle. “You can be sure of that.”
Olivia blushed. She was continually surprised by how forthright other servants were when speaking about relations. She was not unaware of the happenings in the earl’s house during his parties, but she still could not bring herself to discuss them without turning red. It was one of the many things Tally made sport of her about.
One of Olivia’s many tasks was to change the bedding in the guest wing. A little after noon, she scratched on Lady Elling’s door and when there was no response, she opened it carefully. The room was in disarray, with clothes strewn about from Lady Elling’s latest change of gowns. Olivia had just left Amy crying in the laundry room once again and she was thankful she didn’t have to work for Lady Elling.
As she changed the bedding, Olivia discovered that while her ladyship had arrived alone, she wasn’t spending her nights that way. She’d just finished making up the bed, when Lady Elling returned to her room.
Lady Elling was a striking blonde who looked to be in her middle thirties. Elegantly dressed, she was the perfect lady. She was accompanied by another guest at the house party, Lady Montpelier, who curled up on the chaise. She was of an age with Lady Elling, but had colored her hair with henna, perhaps to hide the grey.
Keeping her eyes to the ground, Olivia curtsied then began to leave.
“You there,” said Lady Elling to Olivia. “I have a bit of mending that must be done straight away and I cannot find that stupid maid of mine. It is the right pocket of my ermine cape. Sew it up before you take your leave.”
“Yes, your ladyship,” said Olivia, who set about doing that very thing in the dressing room, leaving the door to the bedchamber open to let in more light. Lady Elling and her companion continued talking as if they were alone.
�
��I rather thought you and he were in the process of becoming closer,” said Lady Montpelier.
“What makes you think we aren’t?” asked Lady Elling coolly.
“He isn’t here for one thing,” the other woman took some delight in saying. “Plus, there are all those rumors about Worthington’s sister.”
“That dowd?” asked Lady Elling. “She’s betrothed to Fallmoor, though I doubt even his blunt can make Rosalind Carson look presentable. Those spectacles are simply awful. It would be preferable to go about half blind than to have those things on her face, which is so plain to begin with. I would never have bad eyesight, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t wear spectacles. Her gowns are utterly dreadful. Of course, her situation is not entirely the chit’s fault. That worthless brother of hers gambles away every spare shilling. And the only reason the dowager countess had her credit restored was because of the pending betrothal with Fallmoor.”
“But that is my very point, my dear. There is talk there won’t be a marriage.”
“Of course there will. Fallmoor can’t afford to be too picky. The man’s desperate for an heir and he isn’t getting any younger. I’m surprised he can even complete the act. Of course, he could always have a footman do it for him. Anything to prevent the estate from falling into his relatives’ hands or, even worse, reverting to the Crown.”
“But, Valencia, you do not understand. Rosalind Carson is nowhere to be found. Her dear mama swears she is in the country visiting friends, but everyone knows the chit has none, save for Lady Riverton and she is in London. I have it on the best authority that Rosalind has run away and Fallmoor is fit to be tied. He has given Rosalind’s brother a deadline and if she cannot be found by then, he’ll marry another. The dowager is beside herself. Fallmoor paid dearly for the gel – much more than she was worth – and now the dowager will have to return the money. There goes her newly restored credit.” Here, Lady Montpelier tittered.
Lady Elling laughed with her. “That is very droll, indeed, but I do not understand how this has anything to do with Lynwood and me.”
Olivia could almost see the feral grin of the other lady as she purred, “But don’t you know, dear? He is besotted with her for some unknown reason.”
Lady Elling was most certainly not laughing now. Olivia heard the decanter of sherry being unstoppered and a drink poured. A generous one, if she wasn’t mistaken.
“Nonsense,” said Lady Elling. “Lynwood is far too refined for the likes of Rosalind Carson.”
“Lynwood refined? I should hardly think so. Much of his appeal is that he’s half savage. That and his title and fortune, of course. I hear he’s spending a good deal of blunt trying to find Miss Carson. He has sent men to the continent and America to look for her.”
“I do not believe you.”
“Tell me, then, when was the last time you saw him?”
Lady Elling hesitated just long enough before she answered that Olivia had a feeling it was longer than she’d care to admit. Whoever this duke was, he’d be wise to keep his distance. But, then again, he was probably just as useless as the rest of that lot.
“Lynwood and I have enjoyed many an evening as of late, and a good many nights.”
“Really?” The other lady sounded both skeptical and envious. The bloody duke probably had half the ladies in the ton chasing after him. “Then it truly is surprising that he isn’t here.”
“But he will be,” sad Lady Elling. “Lyman has assured me that the duke shall arrive any day now.”
“Funny that Lyman should be telling you instead of the other way around,” drawled Lady Montpelier.
Yes, Olivia thought, definitely envious.
“Lyman needed Liam’s advice on his holdings. He believes his steward might be cheating him. I am sure that he is. Don’t all servants cheat their betters?”
That was enough of that, thought Olivia. She’d finished the mending and had been listening in on the gossip. But she’d had enough of Lady Elling, her so-called friend and the Duke of Lynwood.
She made her curtsey to Lady Elling then went back to her duties.
She would be most happy when this house party was over.
* * *
The last place Lynwood wanted to go was to a house party. He wouldn’t even have considered accepting the invitation if he didn’t owe Lyman a favor for a vote he’d made at Liam’s request earlier in the year. Lyman had asked Liam to come look over plans to make improvements on his lands. Liam had still been tempted to say no, but from all reports Lyman was a negligent landowner and Liam didn’t want to be the cause of harm to Lyman’s tenants by leaving the man to his own judgment. So he planned to stay just long enough to appraise the situation. Two nights at the most, then back to town
Truth be told, he was doing little good in London, so he might as well leave for a few days. Despite having Stapleton, Arthur and Vanessa on the case, as well as half a dozen other Runners whom Stapleton trusted, no one had been able to gain any information on Rosalind’s whereabouts. He was obviously worried about the untold dangers that could befall a woman travelling unprotected. He also knew that while a typical ton miss might give up after a day or two and send word to be rescued, his Rosalind was too resourceful for that. She would find a way to disappear and stay hidden. It was ironic that while he very much admired her strength and intelligence, it would be much easier on everyone right now if she weren’t quite so clever.
Lizzie and Marcus had been most understanding, as had Arthur and Vanessa and Ned and Jane. But they probably all breathed a sigh of relief to see him leave for a few days. It was uncharacteristic of him to be in such a foul mood, but he couldn’t bear not knowing where she was and if she was well.
They had to find her soon. He would go mad if they didn’t.
As Lyman’s estate came into view, Liam was dismayed to see a large hunting party returning. He’d hoped to do his task with a minimum of interaction with anyone else. He was never particularly fond of parties such as this, always preferring to go to his own estate with his family. And now he was even less inclined to tolerate it than usual.
He inwardly sighed as the carriage started up the drive. There was nothing for it now but for him to complete his task as quickly as possible then leave. A few minutes later he was being greeted by Lyman, who’d just returned from the hunt.
“Lynwood, how good of you to join us,” said Lyman, as his footmen saw to Liam’s bags. “It’s a pity you couldn’t have made it for the hunt today. It’s the highlight of the season in these parts. We were joined by most of the county.”
“Yes, well, you can regale me with the highlights tomorrow,” said Lynwood. “I thought we’d ride out to survey your land about the improvements.”
“Cannot possibly do it tomorrow, old boy. I was up before the sun today and will be blessedly useless tomorrow.”
“Then I will ride out with your steward,” said Liam, grinding his jaw.
“I’m afraid that is quite impossible. The man is busy all day. You should take the time to enjoy yourself. I have a few beasts you’d love to ride and I’m not just talking about horses.” Here the man had the audacity to wink at Liam, not realizing how close he was to being knocked on his arse.
“I believed you needed my assistance. If you do not, I shall simply be on my way back to town.”
“You cannot do that,” said Lyman with more distress than Liam would have thought possible, given his rumored disregard for his tenants. “I do need your help. And you wouldn’t want my farmers to suffer, would you?”
Faced with the prospect of spending an extra day at this party, a part of Liam thought the farmers could fend for themselves. But since being productive at something might take away some of the helplessness he felt about Rosalind, perhaps he should remain. He sighed. “I shall spend tomorrow catching up on correspondence, then you and I will ride out on the following day.”
“The following day?” Lyman was most disappointed. “I’d rather thought to spend most of it with the l
adies on a sleigh ride. I am the host, after all.”
“And I had rather thought to be on my way back to London, so neither of us shall be doing what we would like. Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to wash the dust off.” He stalked off without further word, one of the perquisites of being a duke. He rarely used his title as an excuse to be rude, but this was outside of enough. He hadn’t even wanted to come and now his departure would be delayed by a day.
He entered the house, then events really took a turn for the worse.
“Your grace,” said a feminine voice from the top of the grand staircase, “how lovely to see you again.”
Valencia, Lady Elling, had curtsied at an angle to show her bosom to best effect and now was slowly descending the stairs toward him.
Had all the fates conspired against him? Lady Elling, one of the most beautiful widows in the ton, was but two years older than he. She had long blonde hair, cool blue eyes and a body that was curvaceous yet slim. They had flirted a bit when he’d first gone to town after university, but he’d been of no mind to marry so young and things had never progressed beyond a stolen kiss or two. She had married soon after and once she’d borne her husband an heir and the requisite spare, she’d hinted to Liam that she would be amenable to an affair. But since he had never been of a mind to cuckold another, he had tactfully turned her down.
Then when he’d thought he had lost Rosalind to another man, he’d taken Lady Elling up on her latest offer. It had been a mistake. Substituting one woman for another was never wise, especially when you were in love with one of them. He and Valencia had never spoken of any type of commitment. They’d only met twice when Liam had realized it hurt to be with the wrong woman, so he had gently suggested they go their separate ways. She had taken it well, just smiled and told him she would always cherish their time together.
He should have known it wouldn’t be so simple. He had thought he was in the clear, but from the predatory look in her eyes, he had a feeling the next few days would be awkward in the extreme.
Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 6