TuesdayNights

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TuesdayNights Page 29

by Linda Rae Sande


  “A ring,” Olivia answered, giving her own a quick glance when she remembered Michael mentioning he had to go in search of one. “Or use the one she wears on her thumb ...”

  At Edward’s sudden inhalation of breath, Olivia paused and gave him a brilliant smile. “And ask her for her hand and visit the bishop,” she finished with a curt nod.

  Edward took a sip of brandy and considered Olivia’s words for several moments. What do I have to lose? he wondered when he considered what there was to gain from such a union. A woman who loved him, for he knew she did, and Olivia had just confirmed it. He closed his eyes and imagined a life with Anna – they could travel the Continent during their first year of marriage, visiting the sources of ancient civilizations and looking for antiquities, live in London during the Season attending balls and musicales, live on his family’s estate in the summers, raise their children wherever they chose. They would have a happy life, he decided.

  Anna!

  When he opened his eyes, Olivia was gone.

  Michael descended the steps to the square and began walking east. His mind replayed Edward’s accusations over and over. He had to admit the business deal that included Olivia’s dowry was the best deal he had ever brokered in his life, but Harold Waterford had been the one to propose the terms. Who was he to turn down an increase in his management fee?

  Before he had rounded the corner to the next street on the square, he was instead thinking about the night he’d entered Olivia’s room. It was not as if he was in a drunken stupor; he knew exactly which room was his, which room was Olivia’s. What had she started to say to me this morning? “If I had known it was you...”

  Just because he wanted her as his wife didn’t mean Olivia wanted him as her husband. But perhaps she did, he thought hopefully. Had she seriously considered Edward’s offer? She thought I had a mistress, he remembered her saying. How could she have known about the Tuesday nights he spent dining with her sister, unless Eloisa had told her? But Eloisa had promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone, and what would she gain by saying anything, especially now that she was being courted by Huntington?

  So, if Eloisa didn’t tell Olivia that Michael was her protector, then how had she found out? Who had told her? There were only a few other people who knew about Eloisa. His coachman, Mr. White. Eloisa’s maid, of course. And ...

  Damn!

  Edward told her, he thought angrily. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

  If things were going to plan, then Eloisa would not be an issue. He had received Huntington’s invitation to spar on the morrow – that was certainly confirmation that his banker intended to ask for her hand if he hadn’t already done so. Michael vowed then and there that he would no longer see Eloisa in any capacity but that of a brother-in-law. And he hoped the next time he saw her, she would be betrothed to his banker.

  As for everything else, perhaps it was time to have a talk with Olivia. She deserved to know she was his intended all along. She might despise him for a long time to come.

  Or she might not.

  When he had completed the circuit around the entire square, he climbed the stairs to his townhouse, still contemplating what to do about Olivia. Court her, he decided. And get her a decent ring! That he planned to do the following evening.

  But first, he had to write another missive to his mother, he decided.

  “Is it true, then?” Olivia wondered when Michael finally entered the hall from the vestibule. He had come into the townhouse wearing an expression that suggested he was deep in thought, his attention drawn so completely away from the present that Jeffers made no attempt to greet him. He hadn’t taken a coat nor a hat when he left the hour before; he had simply left the house.

  Olivia knew that, as her husband, Michael could do with her what he liked. She was his property now. But he also had an obligation to provide protection for her. She was sure her father would have required it of him before he would have made whatever business deal it was that included her. Michael had said over dinner that her dowry was quite – how had he put it? Quite satisfactory. And weren’t some marriages predicated on convenience? A merging of two families or two businesses or two countries? Why should mine be any different? she wondered, a heavy sense of dread settling into her belly. Was that all she was to Michael, then? A by-product of a business deal? Perhaps she should have accepted Edward’s proposal and become his mistress, if for no other reason than to have a sympathetic man with whom to spend her Tuesday nights. The thought sickened her, though, and when her stomach suddenly threatened to cast up her accounts, she took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes to steady the spinning sensation she felt at her very core.

  A slight waft of a warm breath washed over her just before lips brushed against hers. She opened her mouth a bit and accepted the gentle kiss, keeping her eyes closed just in case the kiss was in her imagination. The kiss deepened as a hand rested against her cheek, the fingertips barely making contact with her jaw and the back of her ear. She moaned softly as she pretended it was Michael who kissed her, who held her with such care.

  “Is what true, my sweet?” Michael whispered, his lips now near her ear.

  So startled was she by the sound of his voice next to her ear that her eyes shot open. She found herself staring up into his eyes. “Oh!” she gasped, realizing Michael really was right there, standing over her, supporting himself by leaning on one forearm that was propped against the hall wall.

  A small smile quirked the edge of his lips as he watched her. “I did not wish to startle you,” he whispered, his lips moving to her forehead, where he kissed the space just below her hairline. “Is what true?” he repeated quietly, his brows furrowing a bit when he noticed the crease between her brows deepen.

  Olivia took a breath, realizing she no longer felt as if she was spinning, her eddy suddenly anchored by Michael’s very solid presence above and in front of her. She swallowed hard and finally found her voice. “Is it true that I am part of a business deal you made with my father?”

  Michael sighed and cursed to himself, angry that he’d allowed Edward to say aloud what he hoped he would never have to admit to himself. “Yes, as a matter of fact,” he replied with a nod, wincing when he realized how awful the news must have sounded to her.

  Olivia bit her lower lip as a tear collected at the corner of an eye. She nodded, her face taking on the expression of someone trying very hard to maintain control when, in fact, the world was quite out of her control.

  “A deal that has been in the works for five years, I might add,” he said quietly, his right eyebrow cocking in amusement at the last moment. “Your father drives a very hard bargain, you must know.”

  Olivia continued to stare at him while the tear at the corner of her eye finally spilt and trailed down her temple. Michael quickly caught it with his lips, tasting the salt and kissing the space around her eyes.

  “Are you teasing me now?” she whispered, a sob catching her breath before she could get out the last of the question.

  Shaking his head slowly, Michael closed his eyes. “No,” he said as he pushed himself away from the wall. He placed his hands under Olivia’s arms and lifted her to her feet, surprised at how easily he was able to get her to stand, although she seemed to need his frame to stay standing.

  Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, Michael held a hand on the back of her head and drew it against the crook of his shoulder. “You are part of the most lucrative business deal I have ever made with your father,” he claimed, a hint of pride in his voice. “And, I am of the opinion that you are the best part of the deal,” he added before leaning down to kiss her on the lips. It was a quick kiss, as much a kiss of reconciliation as it was affection.

  Olivia allowed him to hold her for several minutes as she considered his words. “And for this deal to ... work, what are your expectations ... of me?” she wondered quietly.
>
  “Ah, yes. The terms of the deal,” Michael said as he grinned and stroked her hair, wishing he could prove his love for her right then and there. But there was much to do before she would be convinced he was sincere. “Just marry me,” he said as cradled her head with one hand. He felt her start when she heard his words, and he smiled.

  “But, I thought I already did,” she replied, her eyes wide in disbelief. “There was a vicar and ...”

  “Exactly. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain,” Michael countered happily. “I have not, however.” He took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, there is much I must do this evening,” he said with a hint of regret.

  Olivia stared at him, wondering what he meant by those words. “Will doing bodily damage to Edward be included?” she asked in a small voice, a bit of alarm replacing the calm Michael had induced with his words. Part of her wanted the man to suffer for what he had said to her, but another wanted her husband to forgive the man’s indiscretion.

  A deep chuckle rumbled in Michael’s throat. “No, not tonight,” he said with a shake of his head as he led her to the dining room door. He leaned down and kissed her quickly. “Perhaps tomorrow,” he said with a cocked eyebrow, his grin making it apparent he was teasing. “Now, I do not know about you, but I find myself rather hungry, and I believe dinner was ready a few minutes ago?”

  Olivia gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. “Yes,” she replied with a nod. “Will you join me?” she wondered. Edward had gone upstairs after their earlier conversation, and she hadn’t seen him since.

  Michael held out his arm and she took it. “Of course,” he said. He escorted her to the dining room where they shared a pleasant meal, their conversation about the business deal he and her father had worked out on his last trip to Shipley.

  Despite how forthcoming Michael was about his intention to eventually wed her, Olivia was very aware that they did not talk about the earlier events of the evening nor about the issue of Tuesday nights.

  When they finished, Michael led her to the door to her bedchamber. “There is much to do before I can retire this evening,” he said before he kissed her quickly. “Good night, my love.” With that, he turned and descended the stairs, leaving Olivia wondering even more about her odd marriage.

  Having finished her simple supper of bread, cheese and an apple, Anna was scraping the crumbs from the small kitchen table when she heard the sound of knocking. She moved to the one window at the front of the apartment above Madame Suzanne’s modiste. From her vantage point, she couldn’t make out much about the figure below. Although the traffic was still heavy despite the nearly nine o’clock hour, Suzanne had closed the shop so that she could attend that evening’s performance at the Drury Lane Theatre.

  Perhaps a client wished to pick up an order, Anna figured. Hurrying down the back steps to the shop below, Anna made her way in between the bolts of fabric and past a mannequin to the front of the shop. She was still several feet away from the door when she realized the person knocking wasn’t a woman but a man. In the darkness, fear gripped her.

  And then, she heard her name called out from the other side of the glass in the front door window.

  Anna knew that voice – had known that voice her entire life.

  Edward!

  She rushed to the door, fumbling with the bolt until she managed to get it undone, and then she fumbled with the door knob, finally managing to get the door open.

  “Thank the gods,” Edward got out as Anna stared at him. After an awkward pause of only a moment, Anna flung herself into his arms.

  “Edward!” she whispered into his neck. Did he know she had vowed to forget him? Had her thoughts conjured him into existence? How did he ...?

  She probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was just then. There was that moment earlier in the day when she’d been hemming Mrs. Cunningham’s ball gown, that moment when the woman might have overheard her comment about Edward. She couldn’t be sure, but there had been a brief look of ... something ... in Mrs. Cunningham’s eyes when Anna managed to get her to a chair. When she looked as if she might faint – after the look of fear at hearing about the viscountess had passed. She must have overheard me!

  Between kisses on her temple and forehead, Edward whispered, “I’ve come for you, Anna.”

  Realizing a fashionably dressed couple had paused in their stroll along the street to stare at them in horror, Anna pulled Edward into the shop, making sure to shut and bolt the door before returning to Edward’s arms.

  “Have you been here the whole time?” he managed to get out, his hand waving to indicate the shop before he settled it on the side of her face.

  Anna nodded. “Well, ever since Suzanne moved the store here,” she said, moving a thumb along the side of Edward’s jawline. “We were in Oxford Street before ...” Her explanation was cut short when Edward took her lips with his, kissing her with the fervor of a thirsty man gulping water after a trek through the desert.

  Anna finally returned the kiss, purring with pleasure. “You found me,” she said when Edward paused to take a breath.

  His lips had moved to her jaw and down the side of her neck before he finally said, “I believe I have visited every ...” He paused to kiss her throat. “Modiste in the West End ...” He kissed the hollow of her throat ... “Except those on this side of New Bond Street.” After giving her one more kiss beneath an ear, he stepped back a bit, but kept his hands at her waist. “I came earlier this evening, when the shop was still open, but the owner said you were busy in the back.”

  The comment seemed to surprise Anna until she remembered she had been working on Lady Harvey’s ball gown. She regarded Edward with an embarrassed grin. “I have missed you, Edward,” she breathed, part of her scolding herself for allowing Edward to just walk in and hold her like this. She should have refused him entrance. Should have turned him away. They couldn’t be together. Not how they both wanted to be. Allowing him these intimacies would only prolong the inevitable.

  “Likewise,” Edward said with a nod. “Which is why I’m taking you away from all this.”

  Anna’s expression changed from surprise at his comment to one of disappointment. “I cannot, Edward,” she said with a shake of her head. “I finally have a secure position. Suzanne has been most adamant that I cannot have any men visit ...”

  “I mean to make you my wife,” Edward interrupted her, pulling her back into his arms.

  Anna sighed in exasperation. “You have always meant to make me your wife,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “But we both know that will never happen,” she added, fighting back tears. Good grief! She’d gone months without a cry and was suddenly spending the day as a watering pot!

  “But it has to,” Edward countered, feeling a bit of panic at her comment. “I’ve just come from the bishop’s office. I have a special license, and we’ve an appointment to get married in the morning. And reservations at the Clarendon for the next few nights. The Harvey’s ball to attend Thursday night ...”

  Shaking her head back and forth, Anna regarded Edward as if he was a candidate for Bedlam. “Perhaps you’ve had a bit too much to drink this evening,” she suggested quietly.

  “Not a drop,” he claimed, his head shaking the same way hers was doing. “Well, just a sip of brandy, actually. And I haven’t gambled a pence in months.”

  Anna raised her eyes to his. “I could have sworn you said something about getting married in the morning. Do I ... do I know the lucky lady?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, for tears were streaming down her face, making it hard for her to breathe and even harder to look at the man she’d loved her entire life. If he was getting married, was he here to arrange for her to be his mistress again? For, if that was the case, she would turn him away. And beg him to leave her alone forever.

  Taking a step back, Edward regarded Anna for a long time, wondering at her question. “You
know her better than anyone, my sweet.” Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, he pulled out a gold ring. “You know me better than anyone else. I hope.” He took her left hand in his own and slid the ring onto her fourth finger. “It’s time we be man and wife. For the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

  Anna stared at the gold ring on her finger before turning her gaze back to Edward. Then, for the first time in her life, she fainted.

  Chapter 28

  Tuesday is His Bruiser

  April 18, 1815

  Olivia awoke Tuesday morning feeling anxious and tired. She’d been relieved when Michael returned the night before, but where had he been? And what had he been doing for the forty minutes or so he’d been gone? Had he walked to my sister’s townhouse? she wondered, her throat tightening at the thought. He barely gave notice to her news about the wedding gift from the Duchess of Somerset. He had said ‘I love you’, but he was angry at the time and perhaps not in command of his faculties. He had kissed her sweetly when she wondered about her part in the business deal between him and her father. Then he had explained most of his dealings with her father during dinner, their conversation much like the conversations they had shared at Waterford Hall.

  And then he’d said, ‘Marry me’. As if they weren’t already married. What was that all about?

  At least she’d told him about his mother’s plan to be at the Harvey’s ball. He didn’t seem to know his mother would be in attendance, she considered. And she’d told Edward about Anna and hoped that he would find her and ask for her hand.

  Sarah, her dresser, opened the drapes and went about pulling various gowns out for her to review, but she had no desire to get out of bed. It was only when there was a knock at the door that she finally sat up in bed. Sarah hurried to answer the door, opening it only a crack before closing it again.

  Curious, Olivia pulled the covers off of her and moved to get up. Sarah was almost to the bed, though, holding out a white folded paper. A wax seal with an ‘S’ stamped in it gave her no hint as to who it was from. She opened it slowly, recognizing the writing even before she read the missive.

 

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