Led Astray by a Rake

by Sara Bennett

  “Yes, it was,” Olivia answered when it seemed her mother couldn’t.

  Theodore nodded as if he understood everything, which annoyed her even more. “I was afraid it might be. I do abhor gossip. And yet, unfortunately, it is so often true.”

  Mrs. Monteith swallowed and gave a little moan.

  “Actually, I have come to you on a quest, dear madam.”

  “A quest, Mr. Garsed?” Olivia knew she sounded bewildered but she couldn’t help it.

  “A quest for my own particular Holy Grail,” he said, still looking into Mrs. Monteith’s eyes, his words heavy with meaning.

  “Are you telling us you’re a knight of the Round Table, Mr. Garsed?” Olivia said irritably, very unlike her usual calm and polite self.

  “I believe, at heart, that’s what I am,” he replied seriously. “A knight on a white charger, and a rescuer of maidens in distress.”

  Mrs. Monteith finally seemed to have an inkling of what he was talking about. “Oh, Mr. Garsed,” she gasped, and to Olivia’s dismay, tears filled her mother’s eyes.

  “Mr. Garsed, I don’t mean to be rude,” Olivia began firmly, “but I think you should—”

  And then it happened. Again. The door knocker sounded.

  “For heaven’s sake,” she began, as the servant rushed to answer the door, “I really think we have had enough visitors this morning…”

  And then a frisson ran through her, as she heard Nic Lacey’s deep voice. Her throat dried up and she could only stare as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him. Nic was not the sort of man to make a casual visit, and his appearance this morning was certainly anything but casual.

  The perfectly tailored jacket and trousers, the shirt beautifully white and starched, an elegant brown waistcoat with yellow buttons. The cane he carried could have been a fashionable affectation, but Olivia knew he still needed it to help him walk. He looked everything that was handsome and dashing, but as he drew closer the shadows under his eyes and the creases about his mouth made her wonder if he had slept much after she left him last night.

  “Mrs. Monteith. Miss Monteith.” He bowed elegantly before them.

  “Lord Lacey,” Mrs. Monteith mouthed, her eyes wild.

  “What are you doing here, Lacey?” Mr. Garsed’s jolly mood had evaporated at the sight of the other man, and now his face was flushed a dull red. “I wonder you have the gall to set foot in this house!”

  Nic gave Theodore a bored look. “At least I am dressed for calling on ladies,” he mocked. “Where on earth did you get that waistcoat, Theodore? The church jumble?”

  “How dare you!”

  Their animosity seemed all out of proportion, and Olivia stepped between them, holding out her hands to stop them from coming to blows. “Please, gentlemen,” she said coldly. “If you must fight over who has the most fashionable waistcoat, then do so outside.”

  Theodore cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Monteith, but this man should not be here. I don’t want to upset you, but…well, the rumors…the gossip. I meant to keep silent, because I really don’t believe for a moment it can be true. But now, with this man being here, I can’t help but wonder—”

  “Lord Lacey has as much right to call here as you,” Olivia cut him short, feeling cross. “I don’t know what this is all about but I wish someone would explain it to me.”

  “Olivia,” her mother hissed, catching her arm.

  “I must…I really must talk to you. Now!”

  “But we have guests, Mama…”

  “Now, Olivia.”

  Confused, bewildered, Olivia allowed her mother to tug her toward the same downstairs sitting room where she had lately been locked away with Miss Dorrington.

  Miss Dorrington, who was staying with her sister, Mrs. Brown, who lived in a cottage on the far side of the village, close to where last night Olivia had climbed aboard the hired coach with Nic and Abbot’s help…

  Olivia’s steps slowed, and stopped. Her breathing quickened. Belatedly, it came to her. Miss Dorrington, Mrs. Brown, her mother’s white face, the two men and their odd behavior…this was about her. Her reputation was compromised. And if Miss Dorrington knew about last night, then it wouldn’t be long before everyone else in Bassingthorpe knew, too.

  Olivia turned from her mother’s urgings and faced the two men, trying hard to gather her usual air of calm about her. But she felt shocked and numb, and it was made worse when Theodore couldn’t seem to meet her eyes.

  Nic had no trouble, and she watched his mouth curl faintly at the corners. “I see by your expression that you have some inkling why I am here, Miss Monteith.” He limped forward and took her hand in his, gazing down at her pale, slim fingers between his masculine ones, as if they could tell him what to say. “I would go down on my knees, but if I did I doubt I could rise again.”

  “Lord Lacey, I don’t want…You mustn’t…” she stammered desperately. No, no, she didn’t want him to propose. Not like this. Not because he had to. It was all wrong…

  “Lord Lacey!” her mother shrieked faintly.

  “Lacey, you have no right!” Theodore blustered. “I was here first.”

  But Nic wasn’t about to be stopped by anyone.

  “Miss Monteith. Olivia. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Desperately Olivia searched his eyes, but they were dark and unreadable, and she couldn’t begin to tell what he was thinking. Part of her wanted so much to say yes. This was what she had planned toward—making Nic her husband was her goal. She’d sworn to hunt him, and hunt him she had, and now he was hers.

  Only he hadn’t come here of his own will, and knowing he’d been coerced into a marriage he didn’t want was like a dagger in her heart. She wanted him, yes, but not at any cost, not like this.

  “Lady Lacey…” she began, her voice trailing off.

  But, unlike her, he knew what she was thinking. “My mother is agreeable to the marriage. In fact it was she who suggested I make my feelings known to you as soon as possible.”

  What was he really saying? Olivia asked herself feverishly. That Lady Lacey had given him an ultimatum? Marry or else? Olivia snatched her hand away as if his fingers were burning hot. “No. I—I cannot marry you.”

  He looked nonplussed, and then a frown snapped his brows together. “You said you wanted to marry me, Miss Monteith. Do I now understand that you are refusing me?”

  “Miss Monteith has every right to refuse you,” Theodore interrupted, looking like he wanted to cheer. “Don’t you dare try and bully her, Lacey.”

  “Keep out of this,” Nic said between his teeth.

  “I will not. I have come to speak and I am determined to do so, although this wasn’t how I hoped…Well, never mind.” Theodore turned to Olivia. “Will you marry me, Miss Monteith? Will you consent to be my wife?” He beamed at her, relieved to have spoken the words at last.

  Mrs. Monteith turned her head stiffly, from one gentleman to the other, and back again. “Two proposals,” she said in a trembling voice. “Goodness gracious me, Olivia. Two marriage proposals before luncheon. If I may advise you—”

  But Olivia had no intention of hearing any more advice. “Mr. Garsed, you do me a great honor, but I must refuse,” she said, ignoring her mother’s soft groan of disappointment. “I have no intention of marrying anyone at the present time.”

  “You were seen,” Nic said impatiently. “It’s all over the village. You have no choice but to marry one of us.” He glanced disparagingly at Theodore, then back at Olivia. “And I am thinking that it had better be me.”

  “You!” Theodore roared. “Why you? She’d do better with a snake! I can make Olivia happy. You will destroy her. You’ve already destroyed her reputation. A man like you and an innocent like her…why, the prospect is nauseating.”

  “That’s probably the rich food your chef is serving you. Change to plainer fare and you’ll feel better.”

  Theodore looked as if he might explode.

  “I’m n
ot marrying either of you!” Olivia burst out. “Please, both of you, just go away!”

  Her mother caught her arm, but Olivia wrenched away and dashed up the stairs. She wanted the sanctuary of her room. She wanted peace and quiet and time to think.

  Behind her Theodore had the final word. “Now do you see what you’ve done, Lacey?”

  Chapter 20

  Nic didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this total rejection. Once again Olivia had surprised him. He realized he’d grown used to her strength of character and total belief in her own sense of purpose where he was concerned, and to see her reduced to feminine hysterics was rather a shock. He would have liked nothing better than to follow her up the stairs and persuade her to his point of view—and he knew he could—but he doubted he’d get more than two steps before Theodore would be screaming at him for daring to further sully the name of his beloved.

  “My daughter needs time to consider her—her feelings,” Mrs. Monteith said, looking as if she’d sustained a shock, as indeed she had. “I’m sure you will be patient. There is a great deal for her to consider.”

  Her blue eyes, so like Olivia’s, met Nic’s and slipped away again. But it was long enough for him to read a myriad of emotions in them—pain and regret and fear. He’d warned his mother that the past would interfere in any proposal he made, and clearly it was so.

  “Miss Monteith has made her feelings for you very plain, Lacey,” Theodore interrupted, his jowls quivering in outrage. “You should leave.”

  “I don’t think she was overjoyed by your proposal, either, Theodore,” Nic said with quiet scorn. “Perhaps it was the thought of marrying you that sent her sobbing to her bed.”

  He shouldn’t have said it, but Nic couldn’t seem to help himself. Theodore was the ideal person on whom to vent his feelings.

  “You cad,” Theodore blustered. “Get out before I throw you out.”

  Nic raised an eyebrow. “Do you think you can?”

  The two men eyed each other like dogs fighting for a bone, the one coolly dangerous and the other red-faced and panting with rage.

  “Oh please, stop it!” Mrs. Monteith’s voice rose shrilly. “I want both of you to leave. Hasn’t enough damage been done? I—I must go and comfort my daughter.”

  Theodore shot Nic a look of triumph.

  “After you, Theodore.” Nic limped to the door and stood waiting there.

  “I want to stay and help comfort Miss Monteith,” Theodore said stubbornly.

  Mrs. Monteith threw up her hands in despair and hurried up the stairs, leaving them to it.

  “Come, Theodore, admit defeat,” Nic said with a wicked smile. “Miss Monteith doesn’t want either of us to comfort her today.”

  Theodore stared at him. They were about the same height, and although Nic was broad-shouldered and slim-hipped, Theodore’s bulk made him seem the more dangerous. And now there was a depth of feeling in his eyes that surprised Nic.

  Theodore hated him.

  The other man strode from the house, and Nic followed him outside. Lady Lacey would be expecting success and he would have to tell her he’d failed. At least for now. He admitted that this was not the outcome he’d imagined when Abbot helped him dress earlier. Olivia had wanted to marry him, so he’d assumed she would agree with alacrity.

  There was her family to consider, and the awkwardness of past scandals, as well as the impending scandal. But Nic fully expected to soften the blow with his title and position. “Lady Lacey” had such a nice ring to it, and he was certain the Monteiths would come around soon enough, and put practical considerations ahead of old memories. Now that he’d been rejected, he wondered how long it would take Mrs. Monteith to persuade her daughter she had no option but to marry. Someone.

  Nic used his cane to strike the heads off a couple of flowers in the border along the drive, and felt a mixture of shame and satisfaction that he’d let his temper show. What was wrong with him? He’d never wanted to marry Olivia—he’d fought against it from the moment she turned up at his door and let her hopes be known. He should be relieved she’d said no. He should be glad Theodore was willing to make her his wife, scandal and all.

  But the thing was, he wasn’t glad.

  “You don’t want to marry Olivia.”

  Nic looked up and saw that Theodore had stopped in front of him, and he looked as if he’d worked himself up for something.

  “I said—”

  “I heard you. I take it you do want to marry her?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Well then, may the best man win.” Nic stepped around him.

  Theodore hurried after him. “You know you don’t want her, Lacey. You’re only going after her because of bloody-mindedness. You’re bad for her. Let her go. In fact, why don’t you go away? Once you’re gone she’ll see me, waiting, willing to step in, and she’ll marry me.”

  “You don’t rate yourself very highly, do you, Theodore?” Nic mocked softly.

  “I know I don’t have the gloss you do,” Theodore snapped. “Your reputation makes you attractive to women, God knows why. But I will stand by her and adore her.” He took a breath. “Well, what do you say? Will you step aside?”

  “I’d like to oblige,” Nic said, “but I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because despite what you think of me, Theodore, I want her, too.” Nic held out his hand. “Shall we wish each other luck?”

  For a moment he thought the other man was going to refuse him, and then Theodore clasped his hand, squeezing it tightly. He gave a strange little laugh. “Why not?” he said, his eyes wild. “May the best man win, Lacey.”

  “Olivia, please…?”

  The frustration in her mother’s voice was growing and Olivia knew she should explain—try to explain—but she already knew her mother would never understand. She took a deep breath and made the attempt.

  “It is true, Mama. I was at Castle Lacey last night. I was with Nic. But I was there because I wanted to be there, not because he forced me in any way.”

  “Olivia, I don’t know how you could have been so selfish. So irresponsible and—and foolhardy. Your sister…” But whatever she was going to say about Sarah was never said. She shook her head. “All these years we’ve tried to keep you safe from…from men like Lord Lacey, and now you tell me you threw yourself at him! I can hardly bring myself to believe it. Ruined, that’s what you are! Ruined…”

  That stung. “I do not see wanting to live my own life in my own way as selfish, Mama, and if I am ruined it is entirely my own fault.”

  “You have a duty to your father and me…” An agonized sob caught her voice. “You cannot live your life your own way, you silly girl. Your sister said exactly those words to me, exactly those words, before she…she died. I will not let it happen to you. You will marry Mr. Garsed and be safe. Do you hear me, you silly girl? You will be safe.”

  Olivia felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “But, Mama, I don’t want to be safe.”

  “No, Olivia. I won’t listen to such nonsense. You will do as you are told.”

  Olivia knew that in the past women were expected to deny themselves their own happiness, to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their families, but she had hoped that with Victoria on the throne things might change. Olivia could feel her heart aching at the idea that she should be tied down and forced to go through life like an automaton, to lock her feelings away from the light of day, and playact her way through it. And that was exactly what would happen to her if she obeyed her mother and married Theodore Garsed.

  Then why, oh why, had she refused Nic’s offer?

  “Mama, you don’t understand, you don’t want to understand,” she cried. “I was with Nic because I want to marry him. I want to live my life with him.”

  “But, Olivia, you refused him!”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” She choked on a laugh.

  Her mother stared at her as if she were insane.

  “I’m sor
ry, Mama. I know I have disappointed you.”

  Mrs. Monteith waited, and Olivia knew she was waiting for her to admit to her mistake, submit to her parents’ wishes, but Olivia couldn’t bring herself to that. Despite what had happened she did not intend to change the course by which she’d already chosen to steer her life.

  Mrs. Monteith stood up, her back stiff, her eyes bleak—there was no sympathy or understanding in her face. “I will leave you to consider your future, Olivia, but be warned, I won’t allow you to ruin your life, or ours. Mr. Garsed loves you and he wants to marry you, despite this—this shameful episode with Lord Lacey. You must see that marrying him is the best, the only, solution.”

  The door closed behind her, and Olivia fell back onto her bed and closed her eyes. Her head ached, her throat ached, and she wondered what on earth she was going to do. She needed time to think and plan, to discover why some stubborn worm had entered her brain and was preventing her from taking her happiness in both hands and running with it. Did she really expect Nic to be madly in love with her, just because she felt that way about him?

  Perhaps she was hoping for too much from her rake.

  When Nic called at the gatehouse on the way home, Lady Lacey kept him waiting only a moment. She looked as weary as he felt, and Nic wondered whether she had slept last night after they parted. He had tossed and turned all night, painful memories and wild thoughts filling his head and preventing him from closing his eyes for more than a few minutes at a time.

  “Dominic?” A smile trembled at the corners of her lips before it faded away at the sight of his face. Nine years without speaking and she could read him like a book.

  “She turned me down, Mother,” he said, tapping the cane against his leg, trying not to sound as if he cared. “She turned down Garsed, too, so I can take comfort in that.”

  “Garsed?”

  “Yes, Theodore Garsed. A fool with more money than sense, but a fool the Monteiths prefer to me. He was there, too, offering her the protection of his name to save her from disgrace. She turned us both down. I won’t go into detail, it was all rather humiliating.”