The Revenge of Lord Eberlin

by Julia London

  “You will not say?” Edward asked, rising from his seat.

  “I will not,” Alexa repeated.

  Edward made a sound of surprise. “But my dear, you must surely realize that if you refuse to tell me who has put this by-blow in you, I can only surmise that he is unsuitable in every imaginable way. Or . . . that you are a whore.”

  Alexa choked back a sob.

  “Edward, please,” Olivia pleaded.

  Her husband shifted his hard gaze to her. “Please what?” he asked, the venom dripping from his cold smile.

  “Please leave her be,” Olivia implored him. “She knows her mistake, and the good Lord knows she will pay for it in many ways for the rest if her life. You need not punish her further.”

  “I see,” Edward said casually as came around to the front of his desk. “You suddenly believe yourself in a position to tell me what I need not do. Shall I tell you what I find interesting?” he asked as he sat on the edge of the desk.

  ‘No,” Olivia said quickly.

  “I find it interesting that while you are as barren as a Scottish moor, your sister is a whore who will conceive a by-blow apparently with any man who lifts her skirts.”

  Olivia’s face flamed. The conflict between her and her husband was no secret, but it was humiliating nonetheless.

  “There is only one,” Alexa foolishly tried, but Edward quickly turned on her.

  “Only one, eh?” He chuckled as if that was somehow amusing, and gestured to Alexa’s belly. “The only difference between the two of you is that one of you is only half a woman. One of you led me to believe she could give me heirs and cannot. Or will not.”

  He shifted that hard gaze to Olivia, and Alexa burst into tears. Behind Edward, Mr. Tolly turned to look out the window, his hands on his hips. Olivia could see the tension in his jaw, as if he were fighting to keep from speaking.

  “The question we have before us is what to do with this one,” Edward mused, his gaze raking over Alexa. “With your mother buried, there is no one who will stand up for you, is there?” he asked her. “Certainly not your scofflaw uncle Barstow. You are entirely at my mercy as your benefactor and provider. And yet, I am the second cousin to the king. The Carey name means quite a lot in this country. Do you mean to defile my good name? A name from which you derive social benefit from mere association?”

  “No, my lord,” Alexa said softly.

  “Then why would you allow some man to defile you? Did you think of your sister, who bears my name? Did you think of anything but your own base desires?”

  She bowed her head and wisely did not answer.

  “What shall I do, Alexa?” he continued coolly. “I dare say your sister connived her way into this marriage and there is precious little I may do about that. Yet I cannot keep the blight of your judgment from bringing scandal to my family’s name, and therefore, the king’s name, can I, Alexa? I still hold at least some degree of influence over this family, do I not? Or is there someone else to whom you may turn for assistance in this . . . unpleasant matter?”

  Alexa paled. “No,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I am at your mercy, my lord.” She regarded Edward uneasily as she dabbed at her tears with her handkerchief.

  Olivia’s scalp tingled with foreboding. “Perhaps if we take a moment—”

  Edward’s gaze turned even harder. “Thank you, madam, but I do not need your assistance in determining what is to be done with the whore. If there is no one to marry her, than I shall send her to St. Brendan’s convent in Ireland with a generous endowment. The sisters may determine what is to be done with the child.”

  “What?” Olivia felt the blood drain from her face.

  Mr. Tolly turned from the window, his brow furrowed with a deep frown.

  “What do you mean, what is to be done with it?” Alexa asked, stricken.

  Edward shrugged. “It is a bastard child. It will be better off raised by an Irish crofter than seeking acceptance in our society. If you think that I intend to put you up and allow you to raise some by-blow at Everdon Court for all to see and at the end of my purse strings—”

  “You will not take my child from me!” Alexa exclaimed.

  “And you will not presume to tell me what I will or will not do,” Edward said tightly.

  The tone of his voice was bitterly cold, and Olivia knew from experience it would go from bad to worse. She stepped in front of Alexa to save her, to keep her from saying anything more. “My lord, perhaps you might consider an alternative?”

  “By all means,” he said grandly, flourishing his hand at her. “Amuse me with your suitable alternative, for the Lord knows I am in want of amusement after this news.”

  “Olivia, I cannot give my baby to anyone!” Alexa said tearfully behind her. “I won’t!”

  Olivia willed Alexa to be silent. “My lord, my father’s young cousin lives in a small manor in Wales and has four young children. It is quite remote and there is very little society. Perhaps Alexa might go there, and when the child is born, my cousin will take her in.”

  She heard Alexa gulp down another sob.

  Edward’s brows lifted. “That is your idea? Send her to this agrarian cousin?”

  He was the cat now, toying with the mouse. Olivia never won these rounds, but she never stopped trying. “To remove her from your sight, husband,” she said. “My cousin is my father’s blood—I know she will not speak of this to anyone,” she added desperately, but Edward chuckled as if Olivia was speaking nonsense.

  He stood up from his perch on his desk and put his fingers under Olivia’s chin, forcing her to tilt her head back so that she was looking into his cold dark eyes. “Dearest Olivia,” he said, sighing a bit. “Do you honestly believe I would trust anyone in your family? Was it not your family who deceived me into believing that you were the best match for me?” He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, sending a shudder of revulsion through her. “We both know that you were the worst choice for me.”

  She wanted to claw the smirk from his face. But she was aware of Mr. Tolly in the room, of Alexa whimpering behind her. “I am aware of how much you despise me, Edward,” she said softly. “But do not punish Alexa for it. She’s done nothing to you.”

  “She will go to St. Brendan’s Convent on the morrow, and there she will remain. Or she may go to hell.”

  “No!” Alexa sobbed, and collapsed to the floor. Olivia whirled around and knelt beside her sister, trying to help her to her feet, but Alexa was inconsolable. “Stand up, stand up,” she urged her. “Do not let him defeat you,” she whispered.

  “I shall marry her,” Mr. Tolly said clearly.

  Olivia’s heart lurched in her chest and her gaze flew up. Mr. Tolly had appeared at Alexa’s side and he exchanged a look with Olivia as he leaned down and took Alexa by the arm. He hauled her to her feet, forcing her to stand. Olivia stumbled to hers, gaping at him. He was mad—mad!—to offer such a thing, but Mr. Tolly had firm grip of Alexa and was looking at Edward, his eyes slightly narrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenched.

  Edward laughed. “You will marry her Tolly? Come now, I thought better of you! You cannot demean yourself to marry her—she is ruined,” he said, as if explaining whey Mr. Tolly should prefer whiskey to gin. “I understand that perhaps you have some sentiment for the child, as you yourself are a bastard. But you’ve pulled yourself up to the top of the trees, Tolly. This one will merely drag you down to the bottom again.”

  “No, Mr. Tolly,” Olivia said quickly, her heart pounding. “It is a truly noble offer, but—”

  “Noble,” Edward snorted. “It is half-witted.”

  “I won’t marry him!” Alexa wailed. “I will not! You cannot force me to it!”

  “Miss Hastings!” Mr. Tolly said, and put his hand under Alexa’s chin and forced her to look up at him. “Please listen to me,” he said, his voice softer. “For now, we shall say we are to be married, and we will seek to devise a plan that protects you and the Carey family from scandal.” Al
exa started to shake her head, but he dipped down a little and looked her in the eye. “Be strong now, lass,” he said kindly. “Now is the time you must think of the child you carry and be strong.”

  Alexa’s hand fluttered to her abdomen. She seemed to consider what he said as she sniffed back her tears. She conceded by sagging helplessly against him, looking as if the slightest touch would cause her to collapse into pieces.

  “Tolly, you astound me,” Edward said almost cheerfully. “I do believe there is little you won’t do to protect the good Carey name. One might think you were one of us. But in this case, I think you are a fool. Alexa Hastings will do as well in an Irish convent as she will do as a wife to you.”

  Mr. Tolly looked as grave as Olivia had ever seen him. “If you will permit me, my lord, I shall address this unfortunate complication so that you may turn your attention to more pressing issues.”

  Edward eyed Mr. Tolly skeptically for a long moment, but Mr. Tolly steadily held his gaze, not the least intimidated. Edward finally shrugged and turned away. “Do as you wish. But keep her out of my sight. I don’t care to be reminded that I have a slut wandering about Everdon Court. Take her down to the dowager house until you find a place to put her.”

  As if she were a broken piece of furniture.

  Mr. Tolly wheeled Alexa about, moving her briskly to the door.

  Olivia tried to follow, but Edward stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Lady Carey,” he said sternly. Olivia closed her eyes for a moment before she turned back to him. “I did not give you leave.” He settled back against the desk, his arms casually folded over his middle. “Go on with you now, Tolly,” he said dismissively. “Take her from my sight.”

  Olivia glanced over her shoulder at Alexa, but it was Mr. Tolly’s gaze that met hers, and she thought that she saw a flash of anger in his eyes.

  The door shut behind Mr. Tolly and Alexa, leaving her alone with Edward.

  Edward gazed at Olivia for a long moment, his eyes wandering over the peach-colored gown she wore, lingering on her décolletage in a manner that made her skin crawl. “How is it,” he said at last, “that your sister may spread her legs to God knows whom in Spain and conceive, and yet you cannot?”

  The question did not surprise Olivia, but it nonetheless snatched her breath as it always did. He spoke to her as if there were some defect in her; yet he never considered that he could be the reason they had yet to produce a child.

  “I asked you a question, madam.”

  “I cannot say.”

  “It seems to me if one sister is fertile, the next would be as well.”

  Olivia swallowed. “I do not think it necessarily follows. We are all individuals, no two alike.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “And then again, perhaps it is because you take some elixir to abort my seed. Brock said some old crone called on you recently.”

  Confused, Olivia thought back to her recent callers and remembered Mrs. Gates, who had come on behalf of the charity they had begun for the poor. She was elderly, with a shock of gray hair that seemed as unruly as her wards. “If you are referring to Mrs. Gates, she is a patron of the parish workhouse,” Olivia said.

  “She is a crone.”

  Olivia struggled to keep her voice even. “She did not bring me an elixir. I want a child every bit as much as you do. You must know that I would never indulge in such tactics; I cannot bear to even hear you speak of it.”

  Edward laughed and shoved away from the desk, coming toward her. “Do you indeed want a child, Olivia? For I do not see any evidence that you do. One might ask if you desire a child, then why on earth have you not born one? Either you are incapable, in which case your mother lied to me. Or you deceive me every day,” he said as he casually studied her face. “I tend to think the latter. I tend to think you want to vex me in any way you might.”

  Anger began to bubble in her. “That is not true,” she said. “I never wanted anything other than to be a wife and mother.”

  “Liar,” he said. “You are surrounded by riches and staff, yet you never bring me joy, Olivia. You burden me with the troubles of your orphaned sister and expect me to somehow make them go away, as if by magic. You tricked me into marrying you, and the one thing I have asked of you, the one thing I have required for all the generosity I have bestowed on you, is to give me an heir. That is all I ask—an heir. And yet, you do not conceive. And when you do, you abort them.”

  Olivia gasped; her knees quaked with the force of that remark. “How dare you say such a vile thing,” she said roughly. “Dr. Egan said that I have done no harm to my body. I am an obedient wife—”

  “Obedient?” Edward said, surprised. He grinned. “Is that what you would call your performance in our marital bed? Obedient?”

  “I cannot call it anything else,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  Edward’s nostrils flared. He clenched his jaw and walked to the sideboard, where he poured whiskey for himself.

  Olivia’s belly churned with nerves, and she tried to focus on a painting above the mantel. It was of an ancestor sitting on a rock, staring at the artist while his dog gazed up at him. Olivia felt like that dog. She had to be ever vigilant, to watch everything Edward did.

  “I don’t find you the least bit obedient.” Edward tossed back the whiskey. “I think you plot to remove my seed from your body.” He poured more.

  The trepidation was making Olivia nauseous, but she was determined to hold her ground with him. “How can that be? You make me lie there, and watch me so that I don’t move. How could I possibly remove it?”

  “Women have a bevy of tricks at their disposal,” he said and turned back to her. His gaze began to wander her body as he moved closer. “Perhaps I have gone about this the wrong way,” he added thoughtfully. “Perhaps I am not seeking my marital rights as determinedly as I ought.” His gaze lingered on her bosom, and Olivia resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her arms. “Perhaps I have not been as forceful as is required.”

  Alarm shot through her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, wife,” he snarled, “that perhaps I have been too gentle in my desires. Perhaps you would make a more obedient wife if I were a more insistent husband.”

  Alarm quickly turned to fear and Olivia looked to the door, gauging her chance at escape.

  Edward startled her with a caress of her cheek, and then a hand to her shoulder and neck. “If your sister can get a child in her, there must be some way to put one in you.” He pressed his thumb lightly into the hollow of her throat. “If it is your desire that I do not turn your sister out, as I have every right to do, then you will find a way to give me an heir, Olivia. Do not think to defy me. Who will take you and your sister once I am done with you? Who? Your cousin in Wales with four mouths to feed? Your mother’s brother, who languishes at King’s Bench? The entire country will turn against you. No one will touch you and risk the wrath of Carey. Think on that when you take your elixirs and herbs,” he said quietly, then released her with a shove backward. “Now go. I have work to do.”

  Olivia caught herself on the arm of a chair. She watched Edward walk to the sideboard and pour more whiskey, then quickly left the room.

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