Callie Hutton

by The Elusive Wife

  She’d made it clear she had no use for him, which only strengthened his resolve. The prize was too great for him to retreat. He would have her and she would want it, beg him for more. Visions of her snapping eyes and flushed face consumed him. He remained uncomfortably swollen for most of the walk back.

  Put another mark in Lady Coventry’s column.

  …

  “How was your ride with the lords this morning?” Elizabeth poured tea for herself and Olivia in the drawing room that afternoon. Not an at home day, the ladies enjoyed the peace and quiet of only each other’s company.

  “Quite well, actually.” Olivia turned her attention to Elizabeth, a slight smile on her lips.

  “Ah, I detect a story behind that look.” Elizabeth grinned.

  Olivia put her teacup down and reached for a tart. “For some strange reason, my horse had been outfitted with the incorrect saddle.” She held up her hand as Elizabeth began to speak. “Before you say anything, I am sure your groom put the correct one on, and Lord Arrogant switched them.”

  “For what purpose?” Elizabeth’s brows came together.

  “For the intention of making it impossible for me to continue on my own horse. And of course, once that was established, Jason quickly set me in front of him on his horse.”

  Elizabeth covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she laughed.

  “’Twas not so funny when he began putting his hands on various parts of my person.”

  Elizabeth studied her for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Where was Carstairs when Lord Coventry was behaving in such an inappropriate manner?”

  “Oh, Lord Arrogant handled that quite well. He sent him back to the stables dragging my horse behind him.” It was a clever plot, she had to admit.

  “Were you sufficiently able to dissuade him from his behavior?”

  “Well, it depends on what you would consider ‘sufficiently able.’ You see, I discouraged him to such a degree that we both ended up on the ground.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “But,” Olivia continued, grinning broadly, “I re-mounted while he caught his breath and I left him sitting there.” It still gave her a great deal of satisfaction to remember his lordship sitting on his arse, a stunned expression on his handsome face as she rode off.

  “How did you ever get on his horse without assistance?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Father never employed many servants. I have been mounting my own horse for years, and not a ladies’ saddle either, I may add. Very unladylike, I know, but this is one time it came in rather handy.” She felt a warm glow at having turned the tables on Jason. Torturing her husband could become an amusing pastime, something to hold her interest until the Season came to an end and she left for Italy. All the balls, routs, and dinners had become tedious.

  “Olivia, what exactly do you plan to do about this situation? Now that Coventry knows your identity, surely he will want a true marriage. It’s obvious he was attracted to you from the beginning.” Elizabeth placed her teacup on the tray and patted her mouth with a serviette.

  “Had he truly been attracted to me from the first, we would not be in this mess now. He shoved me aside with not so much as a by-your-leave. However, to answer your question, I have decided to return to Italy after the Season ends.” Olivia rose and walked to the fireplace, her arms hugging her waist.

  “Italy? Why?” Elizabeth’s brows drew together in a frown. “I thought you intended to make your home here in England.”

  Olivia hesitated for a moment, then returned to her seat and clasped her hands, studying her fingers before she spoke. “That was my intention when I left Italy. However, I didn’t plan on having a husband who despised me to such a degree that he showed up drunk to our wedding and then promptly put me from his mind.” She sighed and gazed out the window at the wet afternoon. “I have had an offer from one of the most prestigious music academies in Rome to continue my studies with them. I have money from my father’s estate which I shall use for my purposes while I study.”

  Elizabeth let out a huge breath and leaned against the back of her chair. “What about Lord Coventry?”

  “What about him?” Olivia raised her chin a notch.

  “Like it or not, dearest, he is your husband and will have some say in what you do.”

  “He has applied for an annulment. I consented and sent my approval back.” It still stung to remember the day she had received the paper from her solicitor.

  “You mean he intends to continue with that?” Elizabeth reached for Olivia’s hand.

  “Actually, no.” She hesitated. “He told me there would be no annulment.”

  “Well, there you have it. If he doesn’t intend to go through with an annulment, then he means to keep you as his wife.”

  Olivia stood and paced, her face flushed. “I don’t care what Lord Arrogant intends to do. I will return to Italy to study music, and he can go to Hades!”

  “Olivia!” Elizabeth said, aghast.

  Collapsing back into her seat, Olivia attempted to control her temper. If she could have absolutely nothing to do with men for the rest of her life, it would suit her fine.

  As fond as she had been of her father, he had virtually abandoned her after her mother died. Then, without discussing it with her, he had made arrangements to marry her off to a man who had behaved in a dastardly manner. No. She was done. She would study music, become a famous pianist touring the continent, and steer clear of men.

  “Olivia, be reasonable.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Coventry will need an heir.”

  “Then he’d better proceed with the annulment.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, dear, his attraction to you is too obvious. I think you’re in for quite a battle if you intend to follow through with your plan.”

  “I’ve already won the battle,” Olivia sniffed.

  “Yes, dearest, but winning one battle doesn’t grant you victory in the war, and I think Lord Coventry is waging war.”

  …

  Jason paced. “I’m telling you, Drake, this is war.”

  “If so, old man, it sounds like she won the first battle,” Drake said cheerfully as he watched Jason move back and forth in front of him.

  “I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to know how much you enjoy my life,” Jason growled.

  “Extremely entertaining.” Drake grinned. “Deuced more entertaining than the Season.”

  The crowd at White’s thinned as the dinner hour grew closer. Jason still smarted from Lady Olivia’s—no, damn it all—Lady Coventry’s ploy. He grinned, thinking once again of her very unladylike mounting of Apollo. God, the woman was gorgeous. All fire and passion. He wanted to feel that passion directed at him.

  “Exactly what is it you plan to do.?” Drake interrupted his musing.

  “I intend to make her my wife in truth.” Jason snapped open his pocket watch and verified the time.

  “I’m sorry if I don’t sound encouraging, but it doesn’t seem the lovely Lady Olivia is in league with your plans.” Drake stood and stretched. “But now I must return to my apartments to dress for the Cummings’ dinner party. Will you be there?”

  Jason nodded at him distractedly. “Yes, I did plan to attend. I wonder if my wife will be there.”

  “Only one way to find out.” Drake headed to the door. “I hope so, for the mere amusement of watching Lady Olivia best you again.”

  Jason dismissed his comments, then sat for a minute and smiled into the brightly burning fire. The night ahead could present numerous possibilities of moving his campaign forward if she was indeed there. What would the impertinent miss do to thwart him when she had to behave herself in a crowd of people? Visions of drinks spilled into his lap, elbows to his middle, and discreet barbs hurled into his ear, kept him grinning as he stood and strode out the door, nodding at the doorman as he left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia sighed as she studied her reflection in the mirror while Rose put the finishing touches on her hair. This evening Olivia
had donned an apple green satin gown with a white brocade underskirt, scalloped at the bottom. The neckline was probably the lowest she had ever worn, and she was having a hard time resisting the urge to tug it up. The stays pushed her breasts up to the point where she was afraid her charms would spill out into her soup.

  Rose had pulled her hair back to the crown of her head, with curls cascading down the back. The dark green velvet ribbon fastened around her neck held the locket she treasured, a wedding gift from her father to her mother. Just rubbing it now brought her comfort. She slipped on her cream satin gloves and made her way downstairs, her lace wrap folded over her arm.

  A typical ton dinner party served as more of a social tool than a way for friends to share a meal. Lord and Lady Cummings would spend the evening attempting to impress their guests with the importance of the other guests.

  Grif stood at the bottom of the stairs, awaiting the two women. “Would you care for a sherry before we leave, Lady Olivia?” he asked, bowing slightly.

  She admired this wonderful man her friend had married. Although not possessing the brooding handsomeness of Lord Coventry, nothing appealed to a woman more than a man who openly adored her. If only she could have found that type of love for herself. Pushing the thought firmly aside, she said, “If you think we have time before Elizabeth is ready, then I would enjoy a sherry.”

  Grif smiled and motioned her to precede him into the drawing room where he poured her a small glass of the amber liquid. “I peeked in on my wife who has changed her gown three times, so I assume we will have time to enjoy a small drink before we leave.”

  Another point in her host’s favor. In a society where husbands and wives generally dealt very little with each other, Grif and Elizabeth shared everything, even how many gowns she’d tried on and cast aside. Olivia sat on the settee and Grif took the chair across from her. He leaned back, resting his ankle on his other knee. He sipped slowly on his brandy, studying Olivia for a moment.

  “I understand Lord Coventry will be at the Cummings affair this evening,” he said.

  “Indeed?” Why did her heart have to speed up every time that devil’s name was mentioned?

  “Have the two of you come to any sort of an understanding?”

  She squirmed under his sympathetic scrutiny. “There is no understanding to come to. I intend to return to Italy when the Season is over to continue studying music. I am not privy to Lord Coventry’s plans.”

  As any good host would do, Grif changed what appeared to be an uncomfortable subject, and they chatted in pleasant companionship for several minutes.

  “I’m finally ready.” Elizabeth entered the room, all grace and beauty. Grif’s eyes lit up at the vision of his wife’s appearance.

  A pang of envy shot through Olivia before she even knew it.

  Lord Lansdowne escorted them out the door and into the carriage. Once they were on their way, Grif glanced at Elizabeth. “Have you told Lady Olivia your news, my love?”

  “No, not yet.” She blushed prettily and clasped her husband’s hand. “It appears our dear Ethan will have a brother or sister sometime before Christmas.” Grif beamed as he watched his wife make her announcement.

  “Elizabeth, that’s wonderful. I’m so happy for both of you.” Olivia’s voice trembled as she fought back tears. Of joy for her friend, or sorrow for herself, she wasn’t quite sure.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth accepted her congratulations warmly. “We would love to have you join us after the Season at our home in Devonshire. That is where I will spend my confinement.” Elizabeth reached for Olivia’s hand and squeezed.

  “I appreciate the offer, truly I do, but I think returning to Italy is the best choice for me.” She let go of her friend’s hand and leaned back to gaze out the small window at the darkness of the shops and businesses now closed for the evening.

  …

  Jason handed his hat and gloves to the butler at the Cummings house and walked up the stairs to the sitting room where the other dinner guests had gathered. He scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Olivia. She stood between Lady Lansdowne and a gentleman who had his back to him. It was difficult to get a full view of Olivia with the gentleman blocking him, so Jason moved to one side and his heart almost stopped, then sped up again.

  Olivia looked spectacular. Her creamy skin glowed, her hair a riot of curls. The gown she wore was another perfect shade for her coloring. He ate her up with his eyes. As he moved closer, his gaze left her face and wandered down to the bodice of her dress. A punch to the gut wouldn’t have affected him more. He sucked in air and his jaw muscles tightened.

  Why the devil is she wearing that gown? One deep breath and she’ll tumble out.

  It was then he noticed the man standing in front of her was none other than Carstairs, who practically drooled down her neckline. Before he even had time to think about it, Jason strode across the room, heading straight for his wife and her salivating companion.

  …

  Olivia glanced up at Jason charging across the room, his eyes bright with anger. His jaw was clenched and he looked like he was about to pummel someone.

  Good gracious, is he still mad about the matter in Hyde Park?

  At her startled look, Carstairs turned around and gulped. His eyes darted back and forth as if trying to find an escape.

  “Lord Coventry,” Olivia said in her softest voice, curtsying gracefully.

  Jason nodded, and grasping her elbow, pulled her up. “Stand up straight,” he hissed in her ear. He turned to Carstairs who was rapidly swallowing. “Put your eyes back into your head, man.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Coventry.” He ran his finger along the inside of his cravat.

  “Think about it.”

  Jason turned to Olivia. “Would you honor me with your presence and join me in a stroll to the gallery? Lady Cummings tells me the portraits of her sons have just been hung.” He put his arm out and challenged her with his eyes.

  “I would enjoy that, my lord.” She accepted the dare, her stomach clenching in anticipation. Heavens, the look he gave her caused the room to become extremely warm. She wouldn’t satisfy his ego by using her fan, however. She could feel the tension in his arm and wondered if he was still angry.

  They entered the gallery and stopped in front of the first portrait. Jason leaned close to her, his eyes flashing. “Are you feeling a bit chilled tonight, Lady Coventry?”

  “Indeed not, my lord, why would you ask?”

  His lips tightened, causing her heart to speed up again.

  “Because a great deal of your skin is showing, and I tremble to think you might catch a lung fever.” He slowly slid his glance from her face to her bodice.

  Olivia could feel the blush start at her toes and climb all the way up to her hairline. Again the urge to tug at her bodice made her fingers ache.

  “I assure you, my lord, my gown is the height of fashion, and the neckline no lower than any other woman here tonight.” She drew herself up.

  “Every other woman here tonight is not my wife, and I take exception to Carstairs practically falling into your bosom.” His jaw worked as he clenched his teeth, his nostrils flaring.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord. First off, I am not your wife, and second, Lord Carstairs is ever the gentleman when he is with me.”

  This man’s arrogance was indeed without equal.

  “Isn’t there a fichu you could have worn with that, madam?” He waved his hand at her exposed cleavage.

  Olivia slapped at his hand. “Not without ruining the look of the gown, sir.” She moved away, discreetly tugging at the neckline.

  Jason turned her and cupped her face in his hands. “I want you,” he said in a low voice, “as my wife in truth, and regardless of what other ideas you have in that charming head of yours, that is what will happen.” He rubbed his thumb across her chin as he spoke.

  Olivia pulled her head away from his grasp. “Never, my lord. I will not be your w
ife in truth, or otherwise.” She was sure he could hear her heart thumping. Just his touch caused shivers to race up and down her spine and reduced her limbs to mush. The man was too handsome for his own good, and used those piercing blue eyes as weapons.

  “I believe they are calling us to dinner.” She took a deep breath to calm herself.

  …

  Jason stood mesmerized as her breasts moved up and down. All that creamy skin covering those enticing globes had reduced him to a randy youth. He placed her hand on his arm. Just before they reached the others, he murmured. “Do not take any more deep breaths tonight.”

  She glared at him.

  Jason tried to hide his irritation at his designated seat between Lady Cicely Lyons, a young debutante, and the Dowager Duchess of Northumberland. His relief at Carstairs being at the opposite end of Olivia’s place at the table of fifteen couples was short-lived when Fairfax settled in the seat on her right. Lord Garland, a well-known lecher, occupied the seat to her left. If Garland peered down Olivia’s front one more time he was going to jump across the table and throttle him.

  “Lord Coventry, Mama believes I am doing quite well this Season. I’ve had four offers already.” The simpering miss next to him blushed and tittered as she relayed this vital piece of information he no doubt could not live a satisfying life without knowing.

  Nevertheless, Jason smiled at the young girl. “Indeed. I’m sure the gentlemen of the ton are thrilled beyond measure that you have joined us this year.” He sipped his wine and watched Olivia smile brightly at Fairfax.

  Where the devil is Fairfax’s other hand?

  “Yes, Mama says she expected no less than six offers, and since we still have a few more weeks, I’m sure I’ll live up to her expectations.”

  Jason glanced briefly in her direction and nodded.

  I swear Garland just moved his chair closer to Olivia. Damn it, does she have to smile so bloody much?

  “What do you think, Lord Coventry?” The annoying chit was still prattling on about something.

  Jason turned back to her. “About what, my lady?”