by Julia Parks
She turned completely and met his hard gaze without flinching. A moment passed and suddenly that irresistible smile appeared. How could she help but answer it?
Then it was gone, and she was very sorry she had wasted a smile on such a cold fish. Olivia turned back to her dinner partner, catching the last of Tony’s joke and laughing a bit too heartily.
She wanted very much to glance again at the irritating Lord Sheridan and toss her head at him in disdain, but somehow, she knew the gesture would serve no purpose. How could she ignite a spark of remorse in such a heartless man?
More friends joined their small group, and Olivia soon forgot Lord Sheridan and his little band of misanthropists. Before she knew it, dinner was over. Mr. Pendleton, having begged the honour of sitting out the next dance with her and her aunt, led them back to the ballroom.
After a few minutes of quiet conversation, Aunt Amy looked longingly at the card room.
“I believe your aunt is wanting to play another hand of cards, Lady Olivia. Would you be insulted if I escorted her to the card room?”
“You two run along. I am promised for the next set, and I shall be fine here on my own.”
Rising, her aunt said, “If you are certain, my dear.”
Mr. Pendleton rose, too, and offered his arm to her aunt.
Olivia’s toe tapped out the beat of the music, and she smiled as she watched the dancers. Tony was partnering one of their other friends, and they nodded as they passed.
“I fear I owe you an apology, Lady Olivia.”
She started at the sound of his voice and choked. Clearing her throat, she said, “I cannot imagine why Lord Sheridan.”
He lifted the tails of his coat to join her on the bench but hesitated. “May I?”
She moved her skirts, and he sat down, carefully placing his gold-handled cane against his leg before he said, “I was rude in the dining room. I found it so odd that you and old Pendleton seemed to be getting on so well.”
“Odd? There were several of us dining together and enjoying a pleasant conversation.”
“Yes, but when you look around at one of these things, these balls, it is uncommon to see a wealthy older man courting a wealthy young lady.”
Olivia shook her head and chuckled. “Courting? It was hardly a case of courtship. Even if it were, the alliance of two wealthy households is nothing out of the common. I think you must live in a very different world from me, my lord.”
“No, I simply see my world for what it is—filled with people who wed for money or position, people who will step over a starving man and never notice he is there. I live in a very cold and indifferent world. Why do you think all these people are here tonight?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “They are here because they want something. They want to better their own position in this avaricious society we live in.”
“I cannot agree.”
“Not agree? Then you are either a fool or blind, my dear lady. Only look at the tableau spread before you. That young lady, there, dancing with an old reprobate like Lord Lowell. And there, the penniless Lord Fairhaven with the fish-faced but infinitely wealthy Miss Peabody.”
“Not everyone is avaricious. Perhaps you are judging others by your own standards.” His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, and she continued, “Myself, I have friends in all circumstances—from the very wealthy to the very poor, I make no distinction.”
He was scowling again, a much more familiar expression. She resisted the urge to soothe him, but she did smile up at him to soften her words.
This seemed to have the desired effect as he said, “Then I must beg your pardon for judging you too harshly. I do hope you will forgive me.”
Again that fatal smile.
“Certainly.”
He rose, and she could not stop herself from adding, “You really should smile more often, Lord Sheridan. You have a very nice smile.”
The smile faded and he walked away, shaking his head.
What an odd man. She wished there were something she could do to help him. No one should be so cynical. It poisoned the soul, and she was certain that was the cause of his unhappiness.
Or perhaps, he had been disappointed in love. She knew hers was something of a romantic soul, but it was possible that someone had broken the disagreeable marquess’s heart. Surely he could not still be grieving over a wife who died ten years past?
She turned to watch him converse with his friends, and a smile played on her lips. In that moment, Olivia vowed to help the Marquess of Sheridan find happiness again. She had some experience in matchmaking, and with such a handsome specimen, she felt confident that she would be able to hit upon the right young lady to make him smile again.
“Did you enjoy your tête-à-tête with Lady Olivia?” asked Richard when Sheridan returned to his side.
“I do not know why l bothered to try and have a rational conversation with that female. She has only the most tenuous grasp on sensible thought.”
“I found her delightful when I escorted her and her aunt home last night.”
“And why the devil did you do that? Surely it was enough that I carried the limp Miss Featherstone to safety.”
“You merely took care of their physical needs. I, on the other hand, saw to their spiritual needs. I soothed their ruffled feathers, a service requiring the utmost finesse, I might add, and after you finished with the beautiful Lady Olivia, hers were very ruffled indeed. Not that I expect you to understand something that you are incapable of doing.”
“If you mean I am not capable of catering to the megrims and whims of three empty-headed females, then I can only say hurrah!” replied Sheridan.
Laughing, Richard said, “I would accuse you of protesting too much where the beautiful, if soft-hearted, Olivia is concerned, but I know that is not true. I take it you will not mind if I try my hand with the lady?”
“Mind? I welcome it. I do not understand it, but I wish you well.”
‘Then I shall see what I can do to once again soothe those beautiful feathers that you so enjoy ruffling.”
Richard skirted the ballroom in his quest of Lady Olivia. His dark eyes narrowed, Sheridan watched with derision. When the lady greeted his friend with a warm smile, Sheridan ground his teeth. When she moved her skirts for Richard to join her on the velvet bench, just as she had for him moments earlier, Sheridan growled. Finally, when she placed her gloved hand on Richard’s sleeve and leaned closer, Sheridan clutched his cane in his fist and strode from the ballroom and out the front door without so much as a by-your-leave for his host or hostess.
Chapter Four
Two days later, when the sun finally put in an appearance again, Sheridan dressed for riding and went to Richard’s bachelor quarters.
“Where are you going?” asked Sheridan when he entered his friend’s bedchamber and discovered Richard’s valet easing him into his coat.
“I have an engagement,” said Richard, “with a lady.”
“So I gathered. You do not usually dress so fine for a visit to the club. Do I know her?”
“Oh yes, but I hesitate to mention her name, knowing how you feel about her, old friend.”
Sheridan’s dark brows came together, and he said coldly, “Lady Olivia. I might have known.” He watched as his friend splashed on a liberal dose of cologne. “An assignation, is it?”
Richard shook his head. “No, I fear it will be a rather large group. A picnic in the country or some such boring interlude. However, one must pay one’s dues in order to win the prize.”
Drew frowned. “The prize being?”
“Lady Olivia’s virtue, of course. I cannot be certain that it is, uh, intact, but if rumour is correct…” said Richard with a leer.
“So this is not a private party.”
“Certainly i
t is, but Lady Olivia assured me that I would be more than welcome.”
“When did she say this?” asked Sheridan.
“Yesterday, when I was calling on her and her aunt. She also told me to bring along any friends I might wish to include. I had thought to invite you and Maddie, but she is busy and you…I assumed you would not wish to go.”
Sheridan could not guess what vagary of thought prompted him to say, “On the contrary, I would like nothing better. Shall we?”
Once spoken, he could not take it back without appearing a complete jingle brains. Kicking himself mentally, Sheridan held open the door and waited for his friend to pass through.
He glanced down at his riding gear. “Will you ride or join the ladies in the carriage?”
“It’s the carriage for me. My man thinks it looks like rain, and I would hate to ruin my new coat.”
“Dandy,” said Sheridan.
“Curmudgeon,” replied Richard cheerfully.
Olivia donned her new bonnet with the blue ribbons that perfectly matched her riding habit and her eyes. She studied her reflection a moment and then smiled.
Seeing her maid in the mirror, she said, “Pansy, you should be in bed. You are not strong enough to resume your duties.”
“I am much better, m’lady,” said the maid, picking up a pair of kid gloves.
Olivia took the gloves from her. “Better, but not well. Mr. Jenson is coming to see you again this morning. He will kick up a dust if he finds you working already. Now, go back to bed, do.”
“Very well, m’lady. If you insist.”
“I do. He should be here any moment, and I want him to find you tucked up in your bed, a fire in the grate, and some warm broth by your side.” Olivia tempered this lecture with a smile and shooed the little maid out the door.
A few minutes later, her aunt’s maid entered and announced the good doctor’s arrival.
“Take him up to see Pansy. I will be there in a few minutes. Is my aunt ready for the picnic?”
“Yes, my lady.”
A few moments later, Olivia hurried out the door and up the back stairs. She found Mr. Jenson just leaving Pansy’s room.
“Good morning, Mr. Jenson.”
“Good morning, Lady Olivia. I am astounded at your maid’s recovery. If I didn’t know better, I would accuse her of having feigned her illness. She did not, of course.”
“I am surprised, too. Only three days ago, she was practically at death ’s door. She is begging to return to her duties, but I told her to wait two more days and then, to be cautious. If she tires, she is to stop and rest.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jenson. I hope I can convince her to follow your advice. Won’t you come down to the drawing room for a cup of tea?”
“That would be very nice. Will your aunt be joining us?”
“I don’t know. We are going on a picnic in a little while. I…I don’t suppose you would like to join us, would you?”
“A picnic? I don’t know. I have two or three patients to see today.” The tall, distinguished-looking man frowned and finally nodded. “I suppose I have the time. Thank you, I will gladly accept your invitation.”
“Excellent, and here is Aunt Amy, ready to go. The good doctor has agreed to lend us his company for the picnic, aunt. Why don’t the two of you go into the drawing room and have some tea while I take care of a few last-minute details with the luncheon?”
Olivia stopped around the corner and listened.
“I hope you don’t mind, Amy,” he said.
“No, why should I mind? Come in. Witchell has already placed the tray in the drawing room.”
Olivia smiled and turned toward the kitchens for a last-minute consultation with Cook over the quantity of food she was sending along. A knock sounded on the front door, and Olivia waited to see who was calling.
Witchell turned toward her and announced, “Lord Sheridan and Sir Richard Adair, my lady.”
Going forward with her hand extended, Olivia managed a composed, “Sir Richard, how good to see you again. And you have brought along Lord Sheridan.”
“I hope you do not mind, Lady Olivia,” said the charming Sir Richard with a wink.
Ignoring this familiarity, Olivia smiled broadly. “Certainly not. You know that I said you should bring your other friends. Good afternoon, Lord Sheridan.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Olivia,” he replied. “Thank you for including me.”
“Not at all. I am delighted you could come. Won’t you follow me to the drawing room?”
So the marquess had agreed to come. She had not been at all certain that he would accept his friend’s invitation. Olivia smiled. She hoped Lord Sheridan would take a fancy to one of the two young ladies she had invited.
She was a fool, perhaps, to engage in all this matchmaking. It had not been enough that Mr. Pendleton would escort her aunt. Now she had added the good doctor. And for the marquess, two very pretty young ladies to choose from.
Would that someone would be so kind as to do a little matchmaking for her!
Twenty minutes later, the picnickers were on their way in two large traveling carriages and on horseback. Olivia turned her bay mare and fell in behind the first carriage. A moment later, Lord Sheridan joined her there.
“When we get out of the city, we should move ahead of the carriages, you know.”
“And why should we do that, Lord Sheridan?” she asked.
“To avoid the dust. Unless you enjoy eating the dust kicked up by a team of horses and a lumbering carriage.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I enjoy cantering across a nice meadow of green grass, but I will settle for being in the lead of this caravan.”
“Surprising,” he muttered.
Olivia frowned and turned in her saddle to face him. “Why would you say that, my lord?”
“Only that I did not expect you to be so sensible.”
“You have a very low opinion of me, my lord,” she replied, thanking heaven that she had brought along Miss Featherstone’s silly cousin and Miss Hollingsworth to entertain the maddening man. Misanthropist, indeed. He was nothing more than a smug coxcomb.
“You are put out with me, Lady Olivia—once again.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, my lord. I have no opinion of you, one way or the other.”
“Ah, and now you are lying. You are not very good at it, you know. Your eyes get very wide when you lie.”
She turned her head away as her cheeks reddened, but she refused to reply. She had learned through the years that it did no good to argue with children or fools.
“A word to the wise, my lady. You should not play any card games where you must try to bluff your opponent. You would lose your fortune in a matter of minutes.”
Turning her sweetest smile on him, she said, “I would never dream of doing anything so foolish, Lord Sheridan. Isn’t it a lovely day?”
That delicious smile appeared, and he said, “Perfectly lovely.”
Just then, Mr. Thomas moved up to join them and said, “Let us move in front of the carriages.”
“A capital idea,” said Lord Sheridan, kicking up his horse and moving ahead.
Olivia followed with Mr. Thomas and Miss Hollingsworth, who had also chosen to ride.
Allowing the two gentlemen to ride ahead, Olivia said, “A handsome man, Lord Sheridan.”
“He is well enough,” said the young lady. “Mama says he is worth a fortune, and that, of course, makes him acceptable. Still and all, he is rather old. I mean, he might be quite suitable for you, but for me?”
Olivia sucked in a quick breath of air as if hit in the stomach. Glancing sideways, she managed a smile. “In time, Miss Hollingsworth, I believe you will find that age is not as important as wisdom.”
“Perfectly understandable,” said Olivia. “Shall we join the gentlemen?” Clicking her tongue, she sent her mare forward to catch up with the two gentlemen.
So much for the pretty Miss Hollingsworth. Perhaps Miss Featherstone’s cousin, Miss Fallon, would prove more suitable for the handsome marquess. Olivia glanced at his profile. She did find him very handsome. He was not a youth, just as Miss Hollingsworth had said, but the man was hardly in his dotage. The silvering of his dark hair at the temples only added to his elegance, rather than detracted from it. If he would smile more often…
She heaved a sigh—too loudly, as it attracted the marquess’s attention. He turned to her, and his dark eyes were intent but not sardonic. He didn’t smile, but his eyes changed subtly, the corners crinkling in amusement. Olivia stared, forgetting her mare for a moment, and the beast sidestepped daintily, causing Olivia to grab at the pommel. His hand shot out, effortlessly bringing the little mare under control.
“Thank you, Lord Sheridan.”
“Not at all, Lady Olivia. Perhaps you would do better in one of the carriages until we have left behind the hustle and bustle of the city.”
Flushing uncomfortably, Olivia said, “I am fine. My attention merely strayed for a few seconds.”
Olivia chastised herself silently—not for forgetting her surroundings, but for having such kindly thoughts toward the cynical man. He was not the sort she could care for, not even on the best of days. He was much too superior for her taste. Miss Fallon, however, was just an impressionable girl in her first Season. She shouldn’t mind having someone tell her what to do all the time.
“Lady Olivia, Miss Hollingsworth and I were wondering exactly where it is that we are going?” asked Mr. Thomas.