“Yes, my lord. My mother tells me she saw your coach arrive a few days ago, and I hoped her ladyship had accompanied you.” He flashed Jason a smile that had him wondering if Lady Coventry had been entertained by this young man’s smile and attentions while she cavorted around the countryside charming his tenants with her affection and sweets.
“Actually, Lady Coventry is not currently in residence. She is still in London.” He watched the other man’s expression closely to see what effect his information had on him. Sir Garret Brooke showed neither disappointment nor irritation.
No clue there.
“In that event, I’m sorry to have taken up your time, my lord. Please give my regard to her ladyship when you return to London. She is such a delightful woman. And her mus−“
Irritated, Jason stood. “I will be sure to make your visit known to her. Now if you will excuse me.”
The man hopped up, inclined his head, and left.
I will certainly relay your regard if I can find the blasted woman.
It appeared Lady Coventry had made her mark, for all the short time she’d stayed here.
Jason had been settled in his London townhome only a few hours when Drake arrived.
“How was your trip?” Drake sank into a large leather chair in front of the fireplace. “Things must have gone well. You weren’t away overlong.”
Jason sat in the chair opposite him. “Things didn’t go at all.”
Drake studied him. “Was she not amenable to your suggestion?”
Jason leaned his elbows on his spread knees, dangling his hands between them.
“She wasn’t there.”
Drake stiffened. “Not there? Where was she?”
“London.”
“Here in London? Residing with whom?”
“I don’t know.” He blew out a huge breath.
Drake smirked. “Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning, old man, you’re not making much sense.”
Jason rose and paced in front of the fireplace. “She apparently hied off to London not too long after the wedding. But, she was certainly there long enough to endear herself to the local gentry, the tenants, and my household staff.”
“You don’t say.” Drake flashed a delighted smile.
“It seems her ladyship visited the tenants while she was there, delivering sweets and breads and ingratiating herself to their hearts.” Gesturing in the direction of the window, he continued, “Then when she wasn’t running about the countryside bestowing her benevolence on one and all, she entertained my staff with hypnotizing pianoforte music.”
“Indeed?”
“Precisely.” Running his fingers through his hair, Jason threw himself back into the chair and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “But it gets worse.”
Drake waited patiently.
“No one knows where she went.”
“Not the staff at Coventry?” His friend sputtered. “She’s disappeared?”
“She packed up and left and only told the staff she was going to London. They naturally assumed she was coming to me here in Coventry House.”
“What about the driver, can’t he tell you where he brought her?”
“The driver has been dismissed, and all my efforts to find him failed.” Jason returned to the front of the fireplace, his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed. “As it stands now, I have a wife somewhere here in London. I don’t know what she looks like, I don’t know where she is, or with whom she is staying.”
Drake’s jaw muscles worked, but the laughter burst out anyway. “I say, you have a bit of a problem here.”
“I know that.” He scowled at his friend. “I’m so pleased my life is able to provide you with entertainment.”
“Sorry. Really I am, but only you could get caught in a mess like this.” Drake eyed him. “What will you do now?”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure where to even begin a search. I know nothing about her.” He blew out a deep breath. “What a fix.”
After tapping at the door, Barton entered the room to hand Jason several envelopes. “The morning mail, my lord.”
“Thank you.” Jason shuffled through the items, his eyes growing wide as he perused two of the envelopes. Tearing open one, he skimmed it, and then the other. “Well. It seems her ladyship does have need of my funds after all.”
Drake rose to join him. “What is it?”
“Two bills. One for several gowns from Mademoiselle DuBois. The other from a shop who sold Lady Coventry gloves, shoes, hats and three reticules.”
“Ho, ho.” Drake grinned. “She’s taunting you. I like her. If indeed you do cast her aside, send her my way.”
Jason slapped the envelopes against his leg. “What game is she playing? Going off to London, not telling anyone where she would be staying. Not using her name in society—we surely would have heard of her by now—but still making free with my money.”
“Pardon my impertinence, my lord, but is it not Lady Coventry’s due to be housed, clothed and fed by her husband? Maybe it’s her way of gaining your attention.” Drake’s voice softened.
“She certainly has it now, hasn’t she?”
“I fail to see why you’re so upset with the chit. You married her and left her to fend for herself. If she has the mettle to come to town and dress as a countess should be dressed, what is your objection?”
“My objection is I need to speak with her, to see if we can make arrangements to end this farce. How am I even going to find her?”
Drake stretched his long frame, then tapped the envelopes in Jason’s hand. “I suggest you start with the bills. Obviously, someone knows what she looks like.”
“Oh yes, I can see it now. ‘Excuse me, Mademoiselle, I have these bills in hand for gowns for Lady Coventry. Could you please tell me what she looks like?’” He glared.
“Well, whatever the solution is, I’m afraid it’s yours to discover. I have an appointment with my tailor.” Drake headed toward the door. “Will you be at the Pembroke affair tonight?”
“Yes,” Jason waved in dismissal, still studying the bills.
Chapter Eight
Olivia’s breath hitched as Jason entered the ballroom. The coming-out ball for the Pembroke’s oldest daughter, Sarah, was well underway. Hundreds packed the ballroom and dining area.
Lord and Lady Pembroke had spared no expense to provide the first of their three daughters entering society with an outstanding come-out. The full orchestra played an aria from what Olivia recognized as Le Nozze di Figaro by Mozart, one of her favorite operas. The room held enough of the ton to qualify as a “crush,” which would make Lady Pembroke extremely happy. The Pembroke girl had dressed in the traditional white, with her lovely golden curls pulled up into an intricate and sophisticated arrangement. Her beauty and grace had already taken the ton by storm.
Across the room, Jason passed through the receiving line and glanced around. Olivia turned her back and continued to speak with Elizabeth and the several gentlemen surrounding them, most of who maneuvered to get closer.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, making her aware the Earl of Coventry stood close. It annoyed her to know this. She wanted no connection to the man. Nevertheless, her heart sped up and she found accessing a lungful of air quite a difficult matter. Of course that was due to the amount of people crowded into the room, she assured herself. She waved her delicately painted fan in front of her heated face.
“Good evening, Lady Olivia.” The deep voice slid through her like warm liquid from her ears to her toes.
“My lord.” She turned and curtsied gracefully. Her glance rose to his eyes, a big mistake. The man could only be described as beautiful. She itched to smooth back the one black curl that continually fell on his forehead. The devastating smile he flashed should be illegal. He wore an excellent-fitting dark blue evening coat over his well-defined muscles, the crisp white intricately tied cravat contrasted with the light tan of his skin. His formal black cloth b
reeches encased powerful thighs, which Olivia tried very hard not to stare at.
“Dare I hope you saved a dance for me?” Jason covered her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes twinkling as he met hers.
Why did this man affect her so? She should hate him for what he did to her, but instead she melted at his touch and got lost in his eyes. “Yes, I believe I have one or two left.” She smiled, irritated at the breathless sound of her voice.
Jason reached for the small card dangling from her wrist. “A waltz, perchance?”
“I’m sorry, my lord, but all four are taken.” Heat rose from her middle to spread to her face. She fought the urge to hurry to the French doors and gulp in air.
He turned the card over. “Lord Carstairs won’t be able to take his waltz, so you may put my name in his place.” He flashed her a lazy smile he most likely had perfected to get his own way since he was in the cradle. Bowing slightly, he left her and headed toward the gaming room.
Olivia studied her card. Lord Carstairs had secured the supper waltz. She fanned her face furiously.
Blast Jason’s high-handed methods. He’d not only forgotten her, but apparently the fact that he was married. Or had Lord Arrogant expected to have a typical ton marriage where no one looked askance at men who took lovers and mistresses? She drew herself up and squared her shoulders. After witnessing the love between her parents, it went against the grain to have that type of marriage.
And what type do you have now?
At this point she had to deal with Jason holding her in his arms and then sharing supper together. How would she handle it? Good thing she wasn’t hungry because the knot in her stomach would prevent anything settling there.
“What did Lord Coventry want?” Elizabeth returned from her dance with Mr. Sayer.
“He wanted a dance.” She spoke quietly, to avoid the interested ears of the young men surrounding her who had witnessed the exchange.
“And? You look perplexed.” Elizabeth slid her arm through hers and they strolled the room before the next dance started.
“Because he usurped Lord Carstairs to take the supper waltz.” Brows furrowed, she continued to fan herself.
Elizabeth threw her a sharp glance. “Hmmm. This whole thing has taken quite an interesting turn.”
“It certainly has, but I’m becoming more and more uncomfortable with the deception.” Olivia lowered her voice as she nodded to several acquaintances.
Something had to be done soon, for she did not possess the temperament to carry out a charade for long. The entire conundrum disquieted her. Even though very drunk at their wedding, it had never occurred to her she’d made such an insignificant impression on the man that he didn’t remember her at all.
“Yes, this situation can’t continue indefinitely,” Elizabeth broke into Olivia’s thoughts.
“Indeed.”
…
Jason surveyed the gaming room. Tables crowded the space, various games of whist and vingt-et-un in progress. Footmen circled the players with drinks—real whiskey, not the light wines of the ballroom.
Jason sauntered to a table set against the back window. Four players concentrated on a game of faro. He took a chair and watched the play for a while.
“Care to join us, Coventry?” The Earl of Dartmouth glanced in his direction as they finished up the hand.
“Maybe later.” Jason nodded at the young man gathering up his winnings. “A word, Carstairs?”
Lord Carstairs had recently come into his title by way of his two elder brothers’ unexpected deaths. Never having anticipated this state of affairs, he gambled too much, drank excessively, and thought of himself as a man about town. All in all not a bad sort, just needed time to grow into his title.
“What can I do for you, Coventry?” the young pup said.
“You can forget the supper waltz with Lady Olivia, as I will be taking your place.”
Carstairs flushed a deep red. “Now see here.” His jaw tightened. “I’ve been trying to get a supper waltz with the lady for the last three balls. Why should I give it up to you?”
Jason stared at the young man with a look he usually reserved for regarding an opponent over a dueling pistol. “You should give it up to me because I asked.”
“Deuce take it, Coventry, that isn’t a good enough reason. I find the lady most interesting, and I plan to pursue her.”
“To what end, man?” He chuckled. “You’re still wet behind the ears. Now do me this favor, and I will be in your debt.”
Jason watched the young man argue with himself. Apparently coming to the conclusion having the Earl of Coventry in his debt could be beneficial, he inclined his head. “’Tis yours.”
Jason gave a curt nod and continued on his way around the game room. Spotting Drake at a table on the far side, he headed in that direction. In the middle of a game of loo, his friend never glanced up, his lips tight in concentration. After observing for a while, Jason joined the game.
Noting the time, Jason gathered his winnings. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the men still at the table and left. It didn’t take him overlong to find Lady Olivia, almost as if an invisible cord connected the two of them. He wandered over and joined the small crowd surrounding her. Busy conversing with Elizabeth, it appeared she tried her best to ignore him.
“My lord.” Elizabeth curtsied.
At least she hadn’t ignored him.
“Lady Lansdowne, a pleasure as always.” An uneasy feeling of missing something always settled over him when in the presence of these two ladies. Before he had time to dwell on it, the musicians began the first few strands of the supper waltz.
“My lady.” Jason turned to Olivia.
She curtsied and he extended his arm. It pleased him to feel the tremble in her hand as she touched him. Lady Olivia continued to stare at a small spot on the intricately tied cravat at his throat when he gathered her in his arms. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his when he placed a finger under her chin, and tilted her face up. He smiled at her reluctance and swirled them into the dance.
Holding her was torture. No matter how much he felt the attraction to Lady Olivia, with a wife floating somewhere around London he needed to rein himself in. If only he’d met Lady Olivia before his sire had selected a wife and left him no way to avoid the dictate.
He frowned at the light scent of lavender that emanated from her hair. The same scent he’d discovered still lingering in his wife’s bedroom at Coventry. No doubt a popular fragrance with the ladies.
“Are you enjoying the Season, my lady?” He guided her past a couple of dancers they were about to crash into as they made their way around the ballroom.
“Yes, my lord, I find it fascinating.” Her perfect white teeth glowed in the candlelight as she smiled.
“Then I’m to assume this is your first?” He shifted them to avoid another collision with Lord and Lady Townshend, who glared daggers at each other. A reminder why arranged marriages had never held an appeal.
“Yes, it is my first Season.” Olivia soft voice drew him from his musings.
“Where have you been hiding yourself, that we have not had the pleasure of your company until now?”
She still trembled, and a definite blush crept up her neck as she chewed on her lip. “I have been traveling with my father.”
“Really? And where have your travels taken you?”
She slid her gaze from his, appearing uncomfortable with the question. “Here and there, my lord. My father was a scholar.” Smiling brightly, she added, “I assume you have seen many Seasons.”
He hesitated and chuckled at her attempt to re-direct the conversation. “Yes, more than I care to count.” Silence fell as they continued around the room. He found it difficult to control his body when around this woman. The feel of her soft skin, the light scent of lavender, and the wisps of curls blowing softly around her face in the candlelight mesmerized him.
It had been a long time since a woman had affected him so. Why did he have to meet the
one woman he could possibly fall in love with, after his father had pulled his stunt? The need to find his missing wife and get her consent to an annulment became paramount.
The dance ended and Jason slipped her arm in his. After a bit of searching, he found them a seat near the French doors.
As Lady Olivia settled herself, he bent and spoke close to her ear. “See if you can secure two glasses of champagne.”
Jason headed to the buffet where he filled dinner plates with cold pheasant pie, curried rabbit, wild duck and quails. On two smaller plates, he placed dried fruit, cherry tarts and a lemon custard.
“I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I brought a little of everything.” He set the plates on the table and took his seat.
In between bites, he studied her as she pushed the food around her plate. Her heightened color and shaking hands told him what he’d suspected. Lady Olivia was definitely nervous.
He reached over and placed his warm palm on her cold hand. “Do I make you nervous, my lady?”
She glanced at him, her eyes wary.
Is that panic in her eyes?
“Not at all, my lord. Why would you say so?” She licked her lips, and Jason’s loins tightened. He could think of so many uses for those lush lips. They could start with a kiss, then move down to his chest, his waist…He shifted at the discomfort in his trousers.
Jason lifted one eyebrow. “I have the distinct impression you are uncomfortable in my presence.”
She shook her head furiously and gazed at his chest.
Yes, definitely nervous.
He removed his hand and they finished their meal in strained silence. Drake joined them, along with his sister, Abigail. Just out last year, the young girl had received offers, but being an indulgent father, His Grace had allowed her to decline them all. The Melbourne children, having observed their parent’s love match up close, were determined to have the same for themselves.
“Lady Olivia.” Abigail curtsied to her. “Are you enjoying your first season?”
“Yes, I am. I understand this is your second.”
Abigail nodded. “Yes. I’m enjoying it all so much, I may never accept an offer.”
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