Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake

by Janice Preston

  ‘The Infamous Alastairs ride again,’ said Hugo, with a grin. ‘How long is it since you were last in London?’

  ‘Six years now. It seems a lifetime ago. I was two years younger than you are now, Brother. Speaking of which, is it not time you thought about settling down?’

  Hugo grimaced. ‘You sound just like Mama. In fact, I’ll hazard a guess she has already begged you to help her in her campaign to see me wed.’

  Lucas smirked. ‘She might have mentioned it a time or three. And, as a good dutiful son, I am simply obeying her wishes.’

  ‘She has become impossible since your wedding. I only manage to silence her by pointing out I have nothing whatsoever to offer a bride, apart from a jaded reputation and a courtesy title.’

  ‘But from what I have been hearing, that is no longer true. You are a member of White’s. You have investments. You are almost respectable.’

  Hugo frowned, then forced a laugh. ‘Almost, but not quite, eh?’ He knew it would take more than that to banish the ton’s memory of his hedonistic past. ‘I should probably have accepted the younger son’s lot a long time ago and gone into the army instead of going to Oxford. God knows I spent little enough time there.’

  Lucas laughed. ‘That’s true. You spent more time with me in London than you did at university.’ Then he slid a sly sideways look at Hugo. ‘Or you could have gone into the church. I can just see you—in the pulpit every Sunday, preaching to the worthy.’

  Hugo tipped his head back and laughed, but when he straightened and directed his gaze forward again, he felt the laugh slide from his face. Olivia, atop a dainty chestnut, her slim figure elegantly clad in a dark blue riding habit with military-style trim, was riding towards him. Hugo wrenched his gaze from her to take in her two companions—her brother, Lord Alexander, and Lady Helena Caldicot.

  This would have been an ideal time for Hugo to snatch a word with Olivia and put her mind at rest except that—as the Beauchamp party drew closer—Hugo could read Alex’s scowl as he glared at him and he could feel the frostiness of Olivia’s silver-grey gaze as it swept over him, her hoity nose in the air and her lips set in a tight line. With Lucas at his side, there was no way he would risk an encounter with those two in their current moods.

  He stifled a sigh. Alex clearly hadn’t forgiven him for Saturday night and Olivia wouldn’t know that Clevedon was out of town—she would only wonder why Hugo had not yet returned her necklace as he had promised. He tamped down his frustration as he tipped his hat to the trio and rode on past without as much as a good afternoon.

  ‘Care to share, Little Brother?’

  Hugo snapped his gaze to meet Lucas’s arched brows. The knowing curve to his mouth suggested his perceptive brother hadn’t missed the chill in the atmosphere.

  ‘Are you still breaking the hearts of the ladies of the ton? I have to say, that dark-haired one was a beauty, but maybe a touch too feisty for comfort. And—’ he swivelled in his saddle to look behind them ‘—I should have thought a touch on the young side for a dalliance with a man of your age and...er...tarnished reputation.’

  Hugo felt the growl build in his throat. ‘There is no dalliance.’

  ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ drawled Lucas. ‘Must be losing my touch—been out of the game too long, I dare say. But, seriously, if not a dalliance, there is definitely something between you. And if I can tell, so will countless others, mind. Never forget the first rule of a satisfactory affaire, my lad. Don’t get caught. Who is she?’

  ‘They are Lord Alexander Beauchamp, his sister, Lady Olivia, and their new step-aunt, Lady Helena Caldicot. Her stepsister has just married Cheriton.’

  Lucas whistled. ‘Cheriton’s brood? My...you are mixing with the elite. And why, pray tell, are the Beauchamps looking daggers at you?’

  Anger flared. He answered to no one—particularly not the brother who had abandoned him in London at the tender age of twenty. ‘I suggest you ask them if you are so curious.’

  Hugo dug his heels into Falcon’s flanks, pushing him into a canter. Lucas kept pace with him until, his rage subsiding, Hugo slowed. He was behaving like an idiot. He had long ago forgiven Lucas for his abrupt departure from London and he should know better by now than to let his brother’s ribbing provoke him. He smiled ruefully at Lucas. His anger was at the situation in which he had found himself, not at his brother.

  ‘Very well. You are right. There is more to it, but it is not what you think and I am not at liberty to tell you more.’

  Lucas winked. ‘Soul of discretion, eh? I see you haven’t forgotten all of your lessons.’

  * * *

  ‘Did you see that?’ Olivia ripped off her York tan gloves and dashed them on to her bed. She had managed to contain her fury all the way home, but as soon as she and Nell were alone she let fly. ‘Not even the slightest attempt to speak to me and to set my mind at rest.’

  ‘But...Livvy...you heard Alex. He forbade you to stop and speak to Lord Hugo in any case.’

  ‘Pooh. That is no excuse for his lordship to not even try to talk to me.’

  ‘Who was the gentleman riding with him, do you think, Livvy? Do you think that is Rothley? There was a distinct resemblance, do you not agree? They made a striking pair.’

  Olivia waved her hand dismissively. Who cared who he was, when her whole life was in ruins? Anyway, she had barely noticed the other man. She’d had eyes only for Hugo, trying to convey her fury with just one look. For all the good it had done her. He’d not even acknowledged her other than a tip of his hat.

  ‘He does not even know yet that Papa isn’t coming home as planned because of Uncle Vernon’s wedding.’ Her throat was so tight she could hardly breathe. ‘Who does he think he is—promising to help me and then brushing me aside like a...a...bothersome fly?’

  Nell snorted with laughter and Olivia glared at her. ‘Do not laugh at me, Nell. And as for Alex...of all the high-handed, interfering—Oh! I could throttle him! Ordering me about like a...like a...’

  ‘Like a bothersome fly?’ Nell spluttered.

  ‘Hmmph!’ Olivia threw herself on her bed, her mind whirling with indignant thoughts. ‘I’ll show him that I don’t need him and his...his...top-lofty opinion of himself. I don’t need his help. You see if I don’t.’ Then, gradually, the whirl slowed and steadied, until... ‘Oh, Nell!’ Hot tears scalded her eyes. ‘What am I to do? W-w-w...’ She gulped, then sucked in a deep breath. ‘We leave in the morning. We won’t be back until next week. And Lord Clevedon threatened to sell Mama’s necklace if I don’t go to his house to pay my debt.’

  Nell sat next to Olivia and patted her shoulder. ‘I am sure he will not do so, Livvy. Why do you not write to him and explain? I am sure he will wait until you are back in town.’

  Olivia rolled on to her back. ‘But he does not know it is me, Nell. I did think about telling him the truth, but how could I trust him to keep my secret? What if he feels honour bound to tell Papa? Then Alex won’t get Foxbourne and he will never forgive me.’

  With Papa and Uncle Vernon both with new wives, her brothers would be even more important to Olivia. ‘Oh, what am I to do?’

  Nell chewed her bottom lip. ‘I am not going to the wedding. I suppose I c-could always go to L-Lord Clevedon’s house and retrieve the necklace.’

  Olivia stared at Nell, her heart swelling as she recognised the fear in her friend’s eyes, but also the determined set of her mouth. She sat up and flung her arms around her.

  ‘No, you will not,’ she declared. ‘This is my mess and I shall deal with it. I’ll prove to Lord Hugo that I can manage my own affairs. All I ask of you, dearest Nell, is that you back up my story to Aunt Cecily.’

  * * *

  ‘What is the matter, Livvy? You have not eaten a single morsel of your dinner.’

  ‘I feel unwell, Aunt.’ Olivia allowed her shoulders to slump. She had powdered her face e
arlier, to ensure she looked pale, and rubbed a little soot from the fire under her eyes to add to the illusion of sickness. ‘I cannot face eating anything. I am sorry.’

  ‘You did complain of the headache when we returned from the Park,’ said Nell. ‘Has it worsened?’

  Olivia nodded, then winced, raising her hand to her temple.

  ‘You do look peaked, now I come to think of it. Oh, dear. I am so sorry, Livvy. I have been in such a fluster preparing for our journey tomorrow, I did not notice. Perhaps you should retire early? A sleep will do you the world of good. Grantham?’

  The butler bowed. ‘Yes, milady?’

  ‘Alert Hetty that Lady Olivia is unwell and is in need of her assistance in her bedchamber, if you please. Goodnight, Livvy. You will no doubt feel better in the morning.’

  Grantham left the dining room and a footman came forward to draw back Olivia’s chair and allow her to stand. Olivia averted her gaze from her dinner plate as she did so. It was lobster, her favourite, and her empty stomach groaned a protest. She stiffened her resolve. A hungry night was a small price to pay for being able to remain in town and redeem Mama’s necklace.

  * * *

  Some time later, Nell slipped into Olivia’s bedchamber. She carried a plate piled with fruit, bread and cheese.

  ‘I went to the kitchen and told Cook that I was still hungry.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Nell. I am starving.’

  As Olivia ate, she became aware of Nell’s gaze on her. ‘What is it? Why do you stare at me so?’

  Nell’s fair brows drew together into a frown. ‘Lord Hugo.’

  Olivia put her half-eaten peach on the plate. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Oh, Livvy. We are friends, are we not? It is only... Today is the first time I have even seen him close to. He is very handsome.’

  ‘He is completely unsuitable for you, Nell. He is a rake.’

  Olivia cringed inside as she saw the light of laughter in Nell’s violet eyes.

  ‘I was right. You have developed a tendre for him, Livvy. It is as plain as the nose on your face.’ She sobered. ‘But...if he is not suitable for me, neither would he be suitable for you, Liv. Your papa—’

  ‘I do not have a tendre for him, Nell. That is ridiculous. Of course he is unsuitable.’

  Utterly unsuitable.

  ‘But he is very handsome,’ Nell murmured, teasingly.

  And exciting.

  ‘Those eyes—’ Nell’s voice was dreamy ‘—so dark and, somehow, soulful.’

  His eyes...

  Olivia felt again the weight of his gaze in the hackney. The glitter as they passed beneath the streetlamp...as deep and fathomless as a lake in the moonlight. She shivered. Then, to mask her reaction, she picked up her peach and began to eat again.

  ‘What nonsense,’ she declared, around her mouthful of fruit.

  * * *

  Hugo presented himself at Sir Horace’s town house in Bruton Street for dinner that evening, as promised. He would dine with his family before heading over to Tadlow’s place for his card party, where he would keep an eye on Alexander Beauchamp—hopefully not a waste of time, even though it might prove impossible to dissuade that young hothead from getting in over his head yet again.

  ‘Hugo!’ Mama hurried towards him, her hands outstretched and her face creased with delight. ‘Horace said he had invited you, but I did not allow myself to hope you would come. You lead such a busy life.’

  Only Mama could describe my life of idle pleasure as busy.

  Hugo bit back his smile as he took her hands and bent to kiss her cheek. Mama: ever supportive, ever loving, ever protective. She would never hear a word against either of her sons, even during the years when their wild behaviour had set society on its ears. Her loyalty was what made her the wonderful mother she was. Mary was the same—utterly loyal to Lucas and yet unafraid to stand up to him, discreetly, if she deemed him wrong. It was the trait Hugo would seek in a wife, were he to ever to wed. An image of Olivia arose in his mind’s eye. She had that same quality. Loyalty. For Alex. For her entire family.

  He thrust aside her image and such ridiculous thoughts.

  He had no intention of ever marrying—his parents’ example had been enough to put him off marriage for life and, besides, what if he should turn out like his father? A violent, foul-tempered husband and father? He glanced across the room to where Lucas was assisting Mary to her feet. He showed no sign of their father’s traits. Since Mary and the children had come into his life he had turned into, as Hugo had jokingly said earlier, a doting family man.

  Irritated by such thoughts, Hugo shook them away. If ever by some miracle he changed his mind, it wouldn’t be to saddle himself with a troublesome minx like Olivia Beauchamp, no matter how those luminous eyes of hers tempted him.

  He focused again on his mother.

  ‘Mama, I always have time for you. You know that. Besides, I am all eagerness to renew my acquaintance with my sister-in-law and her delightful children.’

  ‘The children are in bed already, I am afraid.’ Mary smiled at him as she came to greet him, her neat figure clad in a gown the exact same shade of blue as her eyes. ‘They are quite exhausted with the long journey, poor wee lambs. Say you will come to visit us tomorrow—they will be so excited to see you. Toby has spoken of little else than his Uncle Hugo since we left Rothley.’

  ‘I will do my best,’ said Hugo.

  He kissed Mary’s cheek. She was just as he remembered from her wedding to Lucas—in fact, she appeared to have bloomed in the months since. She—in fact, they both—radiated happiness and contentment and, although Hugo was pleased for them, their love for one another on top of his mother’s obvious joy in her own wedded bliss with Sir Horace only served to remind him that he was, essentially, alone.

  It is my choice, he reminded himself irritably.

  He shook hands with both Lucas and Sir Horace.

  ‘And do not forget we have that matter to discuss, my boy,’ said Sir Horace. ‘In fact, if you are in agreement, we can talk it over now, before dinner is served? Bad form to discuss business at the dinner table with ladies present and I believe you said you have a prior commitment later tonight, so you will not wish to linger afterwards, I dare say.’

  ‘I do indeed, sir. Very well then.’ Better to know the worst now, perhaps, than have it hovering over him throughout the evening. ‘Do you wish to discuss it here or in private?’

  ‘Oh, no, m’boy. No need for privacy. Your mother is in full agreement and as it will—in a manner of speaking—affect Lucas and Mary as well as you, I should like them to stay.’

  Lucas’s brows rose. ‘Shall we all sit then?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. Do, please.’ Sir Horace took up a stance in front of the unlit fireplace and clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Now, as you boys know, I do not have children of my own. Never found a lady I wished to spend my life with, until I met my wonderful Lucy here.’ He smiled at Mama, then harrumphed loudly, clearing his throat. ‘Well, I am getting on in years now and not only do I find my energy beginning to wane, but also I find myself wishing to spend more of my time with your mother and less time on business.

  ‘With that in mind, Hugo, m’boy, I have a proposition for you. If you will take on the role of my right-hand man and help me with managing the Helmstone estates, then I shall name you as beneficiary in my will. None of my properties are entailed and I should as soon they went to you as to anyone.’

  Hugo stirred in his seat. ‘But... I know you have no children, but surely you have some family, sir?’

  He exchanged a glance with Lucas, wondering how his brother would feel about being left out in this way. As the eldest, he had inherited Rothley Hall along with the title, but years of depredation by their father had left the estate in a perilous state. Lucas had spent the three years since their father’s death working hard to
repair the damage.

  ‘None that I would recognise if I met them in the street,’ said Sir Horace. ‘No, you and your mama are my family now and I wish to see you right.’

  ‘But what about Lucas?’

  ‘I have the Rothley estates. You have nothing.’

  ‘And I do not intend to neglect your brother,’ said Sir Horace. ‘I am impressed with what your mama has told me of your dedication and hard work, Lucas. You are a father now and, we hope, you will expand your little family in time. I am a wealthy man and I want for nothing. I have a tidy sum of money in Government Bonds and I, with your mother’s blessing, have decided to gift that sum to you to make reparations to the Hall and to put your land in good heart.’

  Lucas leapt to his feet. ‘Sir! I don’t know what to say...really, there is no need...we can manage...’

  Sir Horace raised his hands, palms out. ‘I know, I know, my boy. Of course you can manage. But allow an old man the chance to help where he may, I beg of you.’

  Mary had also risen and now she put her hand on Lucas’s arm and said, ‘We both thank you from the bottom of our hearts, Sir Horace. We have been managing and we would have continued to manage, but there is no denying this will help. It is most generous of you, sir.’

  Sir Horace’s cheeks turned pink. ‘Good. Good. That is settled then. Well, Hugo? What say you to my idea? You will need to spend much of your time at Helmstone, but it is not so very far from London, so you need not be entirely cut off from your friends. And there is a tidy little house at Cedar Lodge—only six bedrooms, it is true, but big enough, I’ll wager, for a young man looking to set up his nursery.’

  ‘My nursery?’ Hugo ignored Lucas’s smirk as he glared at Sir Horace. ‘What the deuce gives you the idea I am looking to enter parson’s mousetrap?’

  Sir Horace looked a little startled. ‘But your mother said—’

  ‘Now, Hugo,’ said Mama. ‘Do not, I beg of you, be difficult. It may have been a little wishful thinking on my part—I dare say I should not have given voice to such a hope, but...well...seeing Lucas and Mary so happy together made me a little sad that you are still on your own. But now, with such an improvement in your prospects I was hopeful you might think about settling down. And just think how wonderful it will be to have grandchildren almost on our doorstep, Horace, my dear.’