by Julia London
Alexa flushed. “I only mean that you should not have to bear such treatment.”
Olivia softened. “I know what you mean. But have a care, darling. And do not fret. He is not in the habit of hitting me, in spite of how it may appear.” She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat with those words. Her mother had once told her that men who beat their wives were like wolves—once they’d had a taste of blood, they couldn’t go back to eating rubbish. “Unfortunately, you and I are two lambs in this world, Alexa. We have no family, no money of our own, no laws to protect us. Until we can devise a better solution, we must do as he says.”
“It’s entirely unfair, how men may do as they please, and we must do their bidding,” Alexa said bitterly. She looked distrustfully at Mr. Tolly as she resumed her seat. “Might we speak alone, Livi? I should like to speak to you in confidence.”
“No,” Olivia said. “We need Mr. Tolly’s guidance. He is in our confidence, and we desperately need his help.”
Alexa wilted in her seat. “He wouldn’t let me come to you yesterday, you know. He is the steward here, and he is instructing me. I am the daughter of a viscount, Olivia. I should not be made to marry a steward.”
Olivia gasped; one of Mr. Tolly’s brows rose high. “Have you ever heard the saying that you should not bite the hand that feeds you?” he asked.
Olivia found her sister’s arrogance breathtaking. “You might have thought of your requirements whilst you were in Spain.”
“Lord!” Alexa said to the ceiling. “Must I constantly be reminded of it?”
“Alexa!” Olivia cried, horrified.
“Olivia, please!” Alexa complained. “Why can’t we go somewhere and live? You would be happier, you know you would.”
“Think of what you are saying, Alexa,” Olivia said impatiently. “We have no money. How would we live?”
“I shall find an occupation,” she said. “I could be a governess.”
Olivia snorted at that.
“Why not? I am perfectly capable. At least I’m trying to think of a proper solution!”
“If I may?” Mr. Tolly asked calmly.
“I am not the least surprised you want to add your voice to the chorus,” Alexa said dispiritedly.
“Oh dear God,” Olivia groaned.
But Mr. Tolly was unruffled. He said calmly, “My mother bore a child out of wedlock—me.”
Alexa gasped. Her gaze flew to Olivia, her expression full of shock.
Olivia was likewise shocked to hear him say it so plainly. “Mr. Tolly, it’s not necessary—”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Carey, but if you will allow me, I think I can be of some help,” he said, and clasped his hands behind his back and stared down at Alexa. “My mother was not so fortunate as to find work as a governess. She was a paramour.”
Alexa gaped at him.
“She was forced to rely on her body for income. It was not her first choice, but unfortunately, her only realistic choice.”
Startled by his honesty—or perhaps by the truth—Alexa suddenly stood and walked away from him.
But Mr. Tolly casually followed. “As for me,” he continued, “I didn’t know my father’s identity until I reached my majority. I had only seen him from a distance. I can’t even tell you where the name Tolly comes from. I was shunned by proper society and my playmates were the children of servants. My mother sold the jewels she received from her lovers to bribe the headmaster of a proper boy’s school, who used her, took her jewelry, and still refused me. So she bargained with one of her benefactors to provide my tutoring.”
“Mr. Tolly, you have said enough,” Alexa said. The color had bled out of her face. Olivia wasn’t certain it hadn’t bled out of hers, too; her heart and imagination were racing.
“She sold her jewelry again to gain me an apprenticeship,” he doggedly continued. “Had it not been for that, I shudder to guess what my occupation would be today. I had no sponsor, no protection, and now that my mother is gone, I am utterly alone in this world, for I have no legitimate relations. That is the reality of your situation, Miss Hastings. Your sister is determined that you not be forced to the same fate as my mother, and that your child not grow up in the shadows.”
Olivia was stunned. She’d never heard Mr. Tolly speak of his childhood and she’d never imagined it to be so hard. He gave off no hint of it now . . . which made him seem all the more remarkable to her.
His remarks had some effect on Alexa, too. “I beg your pardon,” she said dramatically. “I am sorry. I am sorry, Harry.”
“Harry!” Olivia exclaimed.
“It’s all right,” Mr. Tolly said. “Alexa and I have endeavored to find some common ground.”
“I do not mean to be unkind, Livi, and I do appreciate what he’s just told me. But I do not wish to marry him. I’ve been quite honest in that.”
It was the worst sort of frustration, being unable to do anything for Alexa when she needed Olivia most. Not to mention being unable to make her face the truth about her situation. She was so blessedly naïve for a woman about to be a mother! “I understand,” Olivia said, trying not to sound angry. “It is not ideal for either of you. Mr. Tolly and I still hope to find an alternative.”
Alexa snorted. “If there was an alternative, we would have thought of it already and taken it to your wretched husband.”
Olivia could hardly dispute that.
“If only Mamma lived,” Alexa added wistfully. “She’d know what to do. She always knew what to do, did she not?”
Olivia clucked her tongue. “Mamma believed the answer to all her troubles was to marry well.”
At Alexa’s startled look, Olivia shrugged. “When my father died, Mamma was arranging her marriage to Lord Hastings whilst in her widow’s weeds. And when your father died, she scarcely bothered with a mourning period at all, but fled to Italy in search of a third husband and found a willing Signor Ruffalo.” Her mother was not so different from Mr. Tolly’s mother, Olivia realized, in that all she had to bargain with was herself, and she’d had two children who depended on her.
“But Mamma was in love with Signor Ruffalo,” Alexa argued.
Olivia did not believe that for a moment. Her mother had been a true survivor. She’d maintained her position in society in the only way a widowed woman without inheritance could manage—she married well. Olivia had no idea what her mother truly felt for Signor Ruffalo, but she knew what her mother had needed. It was the same thing Mrs. Tolly had needed—security.
Olivia’s mother and sister had been planning their visit to Spain when she passed away. A month before their planned departure, Olivia’s mother complained to her husband of feeling fatigued and had retired early. The next morning, her maid could not rouse her; she’d died in her sleep. Just like that, Bettina Hastings Ruffalo—Olivia and Alexa’s rock, their guide, their confidante—was suddenly and tragically gone from their lives.
Olivia would give anything to have her back, if only for a day.
Alexa, poor dear, had been inconsolable. She suddenly had no home. What little funds their mother had been able to leave to them were hardly sufficient to maintain Alexa. Signor Ruffalo had no desire to provide for her, and had returned to Italy shortly after the funeral.
The situation was precisely what Olivia’s mother had always prepared her for—to take care of her sister. Naturally, Olivia had assured her sister she would always have a home with her . . . but privately, she was thankful she’d never had to put that to the test, given Edward’s opinion of Alexa. And now Alexa’s situation had forced her hand.
After their half-year of mourning was complete, Lady Tuttle, a friend of their mother, had offered to go to Spain with Alexa in her mother’s stead. It seemed that Lady Tuttle had always had a desire to see the churches there. Alexa was restless and eager to go. “It is precisely the sort of diversion I need, and I daresay Mamma would have urged me to go,” Alexa had reasoned with Olivia.
Olivia was relieved, as Edward had been growin
g increasingly impatient with her presence at Everdon Court. Moreover, Olivia had been happy for Alexa to have a suitable diversion. She’d thought Alexa too young to fret about her situation, and it was clear that there would be plenty of fretting to be done in the years to come. So she’d sent Alexa off with her blessing.
Now, back at Everdon Court, Alexa sighed. She moved absently across the room. Behind her, Olivia and Mr. Tolly exchanged a wary look. “If I must marry Mr. Tolly,” she said, “I might be easily persuaded if he were to give me a town house in London.”
Mr. Tolly chuckled.
Surprised, Alexa said, “I won’t require servants. Only a cook. And a chambermaid. But no one else. I shall rear my child myself.” She said it as if she were offering it as fair trade.
“Do you mean that Mr. Tolly should pay for this cook and this chambermaid and this house yet remain here at Everdon?” Olivia asked impatiently.
“Why not? Would you not prefer that arrangement, Mr. Tolly?” To Olivia, she said, “It’s not as if he has any great desire to marry me, you know. He loves another, he told me plainly.”
That news was so unexpected that Olivia was struck momentarily mute.
Mr. Tolly seemed likewise stricken.
“He does not care to speak of it, for she is a lady.” Alexa toyed with the sash of the drapes. “Lady X.”
“Lady X?” Olivia repeated weakly.
“He did not divulge her true identity to me, for he hardly knows me well enough to trust me with something so important. Which is precisely my point.”
Olivia looked at Mr. Tolly, whose jaw was clenched. Lady X . . . could that be her? Olivia’s pulse leapt so hard that her breath caught. No, no, it’s preposterous. He was the Carey family’s loyal steward, a model of decorum and decency. He would never—
“Miss Hastings, you have taken something I said in confidence and made much more of it than there is,” Mr. Tolly said, his voice cool.
“Have I?” Alexa asked idly. “You seemed quite serious to me.” She shifted her gaze to Olivia and gasped. “Oh dear, it is not you, Livi, if that is what you think. It is obviously Lady Martha Higginbottom.”
“What?” Mr. Tolly said. “It is certainly not Lady Martha!”
“When I presented you with her name, you turned almost crimson!” Alexa said accusingly.
Olivia stood up, hoping that her wildly beating heart would still. Of course it was Lady Martha. She was young, unmarried, and her dowry surely suitable for a man in Mr. Tolly’s position. But it was surprising. Astonishing, really. Lady Martha hardly seemed the sort of woman that would interest a man like Mr. Tolly. She was bookish and often tedious and always timid, particularly for a man as virile as he . . . But then again, what did Olivia really know of him or his affections?
“You are mistaken,” Mr. Tolly said to Alexa, his voice stern.
“Well, whoever it is, you should not think to marry me if you love another,” Alexa blithely continued. “You do not want him to compromise his true happiness, do you, Livi?”
“Of course not!” Olivia snapped. “But your carelessness has left us with very few alternatives. Now we must all redouble our efforts to find a suitable arrangement for you.”
“What do you mean, a suitable arrangement?” Alexa asked suspiciously.
“Such as a widow in need of a companion?” Olivia said. She could hardly think of anything else at the moment—she could not get Mr. Tolly and his Lady X off her mind.
“A widow?” Alexa repeated disbelievingly. “Am I to sit about doing needlework and filling snuffboxes?”
“I should think that infinitely more enticing than a convent. Perhaps you are not aware that convents are cold, and the sisters pride themselves on austerity. There are no gowns, there is no society. There is work and devotion, nothing more. Or perhaps you prefer the life of the paramour after what Mr. Tolly has shared? Merciful heaven, have you heard anything we’ve said, Alexa? You have brought us an insurmountable problem, and expect everyone around you to solve it, yet you refuse to be pleased with any option, and you refuse to see the reality of your situation. There are no easy answers to this dilemma, and I have yet to hear you offer any sort of help at all! Don’t you see what great sacrifice Mr. Tolly has made in offering to help you? Can’t you be at least a bit grateful?”
The blood drained from Alexa’s face. “It is not my wish—”
“Yes, you have made it crystal clear that it is not your wish. Do you think it is Mr. Tolly’s wish? Or mine? Have you not considered that perhaps Mr. Tolly made the offer because he knows that the alternative for you was so much worse?”
Alexa pressed her lips together. “I beg your pardon. Of course I know what you mean, but please understand that this has all been quite difficult for me. And I do not want to impose on Mr. Tolly, as he has professed his esteem for Lady X, and he’s also inherited, and I do not wish to be a burden.”
Inherited! What did that mean? Olivia’s head was beginning to ache.
“Good God, Alexa, that is not your affair!” Mr. Tolly said.
Olivia was suddenly exhausted. “Please go, Alexa. Go and lie down or something,” she said, waving her hand to the door.
Alexa blinked at her. “But I—”
“No. I cannot bear to hear any more from you today. You have imposed on our relationship and Mr. Tolly’s generosity without a thought and have shown yourself to be utterly selfish.”
Alexa gasped. Tears filled her eyes. “Livi, how could you?” she asked weakly, but Olivia waved her hand at the door again. She could not tolerate her impossible, imprudent sister another moment.
With a wide-eyed look of hurt, Alexa left without another word.
Olivia didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Mr. Tolly. But when she did at last, his gaze was intent on her.
“You didn’t have to tell us about your . . . mother,” she said uneasily.
He smiled at her discomfort. “I have nothing to hide, madam. And I think she needed to hear it. She will eventually accept the truth. At present, I suspect she is full of fear and uncertainty about the rest of her life.”
He was right. “Thank you,” Olivia said gratefully. “I know that must have been difficult.”
He shrugged.
She swallowed and looked at her hand. “You have inherited. I was not aware.” She glanced up.
He hesitated, then said, “I think the circumstances are questionable. And it has no bearing on this.”
“It has every bearing on this.” Her heart felt as if it were shrinking. “Will you be leaving us?” Please say no, say no . . .
“No,” he said quickly. But then he looked down and amended, “That is to say, I don’t know.” He suddenly turned about. “There are many uncertainties, madam, but I think the most pressing issue is the problem of your sister. I shall go straightaway and make some inquiries, if I have your leave?”
Olivia could not think. It felt as if the earth were cracking beneath this house, preparing to swallow them up.
“Madam?”
“Yes,” she said, and glanced to the window. Air. She needed air. “Thank you, Mr. Tolly. As always, thank you.”
She heard him go out of the room, and she remained standing, her body stiff, her breath shallow.
What would she do without him? How would she bear it?
CHAPTER NINE
Alexa Hastings was a petulant, inconsiderate, disagreeable child. Harrison had alternated between wanting to shake some sense into her and sending her off to nap. How in heaven would he ever help the chit find a proper situation? And what exactly was a proper situation? Marriage? He prayed that acquaintances of the Carey family kindly forgot their arithmetic when the child was born, but he had no hope of that. It amazed him how dangerously inept some members of the Quality could be when balancing their own books, but how accurate they were in calculating the point of conception.
A governess? He snorted. Even she should have known that was impossible with a growi
ng belly. No parent would care to explain to their children why their governess’s belly grew without a husband about.
Companion? That was perhaps his only hope—to foist her on some lace-capped doddering old widow in need of someone to keep her company while she warmed her feet at the hearth. Harrison wracked his brain. He had to think of at least one widow because he could not marry Alexa Hastings.
But he knew he would, if no other solution could be found. He would because he had to protect that unborn child from the life that he had experienced.
As Harrison rode into Everdon, he methodically examined every conceivable angle, dismissing them all as either too public or too cruel. He couldn’t bear to see Lady Carey distraught. But he couldn’t bear to think of her with another bruise, and like her, he feared that if the situation with her sister was not quickly resolved, Lord Carey’s ire would grow. Harrison no longer knew what the man was capable of doing. The drink seemed to have washed away his senses.
He arrived at the Cock and Sparrow to seek the counsel of Robert Broadbent, his closest friend. Robert was a blond-haired, brown-eyed bachelor squire who had a reputation for seducing widows and young ladies alike. He was the master of a small estate, an excellent hunter and gambler, full of personal ambition and a zest for living. Harrison had been hunting woods and public houses around Everdon Court with Robert for more than ten years.
The proprietor of the public house greeted Harrison when he strolled inside. Benny was as thin as a weed, and his wife was built like a barrel. “Mr. Tolly!” Sue said as she wiped up some spilled ale from a table. “We’d wondered where you’d gotten off to.”
“Did you miss me, then?” he asked, and grabbed her chapped hand to kiss her knuckles.
“You know I did. I always miss you when you don’t come round, love.” Sue smiled coyly.
Harrison laughed and winked. He turned around and came face-to-face with Fran, a serving girl. “Did you miss me?” she asked as her gaze wandered the length of him.