Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake

by Janice Preston

  And every time her meandering thoughts reached that point, she hauled sharply on the reins and dragged them to a halt. Good enough to what? What was it she wanted...expected...from Lord Hugo Alastair? She knew enough of their world to know he was not a man any young lady in her position could even contemplate as a suitable paramour, let alone hanker after.

  And yet hanker she did.

  And would it really hurt him to show her a little attention?

  The days had passed in an alternating blur of brooding reflection and splendid daydreams in which a certain dark and sinfully handsome lord cast himself at her feet and declared his undying love. At times she could not resist embellishing the reality of what had happened—adding further imaginary encounters and embraces—and then, with the next breath, she was consumed by indignation at his casual dismissal of her.

  Doesn’t he know I’m the Catch of the Season?

  She’d been told it often enough by the young men who fawned around her, vying for her attention. She did squirm inside as the thought popped into her head, however. It sounded so conceited and she would never dream of saying such a thing aloud—or even thinking it, normally—but she could not deny that it did help bolster her mood whenever her spirits dived.

  Which happened all too often. Whenever she thought about Lord Hugo Arrogant Alastair, in fact. Which seemed to be all the time.

  ‘Livvy!’

  Olivia’s head jerked up. Nell’s expression was a picture of exasperation.

  ‘You have just agreed to walk to Brighton with me,’ said Nell.

  ‘Brighton? Walk? Why on earth would I agree to such a silly suggestion?’

  ‘Why indeed?’ Nell sat on the sofa next to Olivia and plucked La Belle Assemblée from her lap, casting it aside. ‘I knew you were not listening to me and you have not turned a page in the past quarter of an hour so you cannot claim you were engrossed in the fashion plates. What is wrong? I thought you would be in alt now the necklace is back in your possession.’

  Olivia’s neck grew hot and the flush crawled up to heat her cheeks. ‘I am in alt!’

  Nell raised a fair brow. ‘I thought we were friends, Livvy. Please tell me what ails you. Is it that you have missed the wedding?’

  ‘No. Yes.’

  ‘No? Yes? Make up your mind.’

  Olivia rubbed her brow. ‘I am sorry I have missed it, but...’ She hesitated. She longed to speak of her confusion, but was it fair to burden to Nell with the truth? Nell would keep the secret of that kiss if Olivia was to confide in her, but she would suffer under the weight of keeping it secret from Rosalind. And if Rosalind’s suspicions should ever be aroused then she, surely, would see it as her duty to tell Papa. And what if he then felt honour bound to challenge Hugo? What then? Olivia’s blood ran cold. She could not risk any harm coming to her papa.

  ‘Yes. I am sorry to have missed the wedding, but I have no one to blame but myself and, as I cannot change what I did, I shall try to forget it and pay more attention to you, my dear step-aunt.’

  Nell’s violet eyes crinkled. ‘It never fails to make me smile, to hear you call me that. Now, what I was asking you is this. Sophie Wray has sent round a note asking if we should like to accompany her and her mama on their shopping expedition this morning, as Lady Cecily is away. I should like to go—I must confess to feeling unaccountably restless today and I have discovered in myself an urgent desire to fritter some money away on fripperies.’ They had been unable to visit the shops since Aunt Cecily’s departure as Lady Glenlochrie’s ankle was not strong enough to walk very far.

  Olivia was delighted by the opportunity to escape her ever-circling and increasingly brooding thoughts. She jumped to her feet. ‘I should enjoy that—I shall run and change my gown.’

  * * *

  Half an hour later, the Earl of Charnwood’s barouche drew up outside Beauchamp House. A liveried footman leapt down to open the door and let down carriage steps as Olivia and Nell approached and Sophie—her smiling face framed by dusky curls and a charming rose-pink bonnet—waved.

  ‘Livvy! Nell! I am so pleased you decided to accompany us.’

  Lady Charnwood—a slim, stylish woman who bore a startling resemblance to her daughter—said, ‘Sophie. Do try for a little more decorum, my dear. Such displays of enthusiasm are entirely unbecoming in a young lady.’

  ‘Oh, Mama. It is only Liv and Nell. You know I am the perfect young lady when there are important people within hearing.’

  Olivia and Nell exchanged a grin as the footman handed them into the barouche.

  ‘A young lady should curb all tendencies to excess at all times,’ said her mother. ‘That way, the correct behaviour will become second nature and mistakes are less likely to occur. Good morning, Lady Olivia, Lady Helena. I trust you are both well?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, ma’am,’ they chimed in unison.

  Bond Street was a-bustle with shoppers when the carriage drew up at the kerbside and anticipation stirred inside Olivia. She had yet to become blasé about all the attractions London had to offer after having spent most of her life on Papa’s estate in Devonshire. She still could not get enough of the sights, the sounds, the smells—although the latter often left much to be desired—and the entertainments, in which she included the shops and warehouses. The carriage drove away—leaving the footman behind to carry their purchases—the coachman having been given instructions to collect them in an hour and a half, to take them to Gunter’s Tea Shop, as Lady Charnwood had promised to treat the girls to ice cream after their shopping excursion.

  Nell, Sophie and Lady Charnwood all managed to find some essentials that they could not resist purchasing, but Olivia found herself unable to muster any enthusiasm for shopping now they were actually there. Not one item tempted her to buy—and telling herself that she must save her allowance to pay back Hugo simply made her feel more wretched. She had agreed to the shopping expedition to forget about that heartless rogue and still she could not banish him from her thoughts. Still, she smiled and enthused about the other three’s purchases as they piled them in the footman’s arms and she was certain nobody would suspect there was aught amiss. Finally, after a very thorough examination of the stock at the premises of Messrs Harding, Howell & Co., the barouche returned to collect them and they set off to Gunter’s Tea Shop.

  Large plane trees grew in the centre of Berkeley Square, providing welcome shade for those customers of Gunter’s who chose to enjoy their ices from the comfort of their own carriages. The Charnwood barouche drew up beneath the canopy of one such tree and a waiter hurried across the road to take their orders. The three girls settled very quickly for their favourite strawberry-flavoured ice cream and it was as Lady Charnwood was deliberating, at some length, between peach-and pistachio-flavoured ice cream that Olivia’s idly wandering gaze alighted on Hugo, who was leaning against a run of railings close to the carriage in front. He was talking with his brother, Lord Rothley. They were an eye-catching sight—both tall and dark, with a slight air of danger surrounding them that made her heart flutter alarmingly. And she was not the only one captivated by the pair of them together—they attracted plenty of attention from people strolling through Berkeley Square, especially the females, who eyed the two men surreptitiously as they passed them by, she noted with an inner hmmph.

  As though he sensed her gaze, Hugo turned his head and looked directly at Olivia. He winked as his lips curved into a smile that set her teeth on edge and, to her utter mortification, Rothley glanced over his shoulder, then turned and executed a bow. Somehow, that bow seemed to convey amused irony even though Rothley was entirely straight-faced. Olivia swallowed, thrust her nose in the air and snapped her attention back to Lady Charnwood, who had finally plumped for pistachio.

  While they waited for their ice cream to be served, Olivia made every effort to take her part in the conversation and ignore the fact that Hugo and Rothley stood not
twenty feet away. Although she had earlier been impatient to see him again after their kiss, now that he was there, in front of her, large as life and twice as handsome as in her memory, she found herself in the throes of an unaccustomed and most unwelcome nervousness. It was not long, however, before movement caught her eye and a sidelong glance revealed Lady Todmorden being handed from the carriage by Rothley. Lady Rothley then descended and the whole party—together with the two small children Olivia had seen in church—then strolled towards the barouche.

  Olivia’s face flamed and her skin prickled as she sensed Hugo’s eyes upon her. The Alastairs halted by the barouche and Lady Charnwood, suddenly aware of their presence, straightened.

  ‘Lucy, my dear,’ she said. ‘What a happy coincidence. Are these the grandchildren you were telling me about the other night?’

  ‘They are,’ said Hugo’s mother. ‘We brought them here to sample Mr Gunter’s famous ices as a treat. This is Toby—’ the young boy bowed solemnly ‘—and this is Emily.’

  The little girl clutched her dress in two chubby hands and bent forward from the waist in a bobbing movement.

  ‘Emily, that’s not right.’ Toby wagged his finger at his sister. ‘You’re a girl. You have to curtsy.’

  Emily’s face crumpled. Before either of the Rothleys could react, however, Hugo swept her up into his arms, saying, ‘Well, I happen to be an expert on ladies’ curtsies, Emily, and I thought it was perfect.’ He bussed her on the cheek, making a rude noise with his lips. Emily squirmed, erupting into giggles, and Olivia’s heart flipped at seeing this different side of him. The cynical, world-weary man of the town had disappeared to reveal a younger-seeming, fun-loving uncle. ‘And you, young man,’ he added, ruffling Toby’s hair, ‘showed Lady Charnwood a perfectly splendid bow.’

  Toby’s mutinous expression dissolved into a cheeky grin. ‘Chase me, Uncle Hugo.’ He grabbed Hugo’s hand and tugged. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Toby.’ Lady Rothley spoke softly with a faint accent that Olivia could not quite place. ‘Remember what we told you. You are not at home now and you must mind your manners, or we shall have to leave you at Grandmama’s house.’

  Toby released Hugo’s hand immediately. ‘Yes, Mama.’

  Lady Rothley smiled, her blue eyes twinkling on either side of her tip-tilted, freckled nose. ‘Good afternoon, ladies. Please allow me to apologise for my son’s enthusiasm.’

  This was Olivia’s first chance to see her ladyship close to and she thought she looked friendly and fun.

  ‘That is perfectly understandable, my dear Lady Rothley,’ said Lady Charnwood.

  Hugo’s brother bowed as he bestowed a charming smile upon Lady Charnwood. ‘It is good to see you again, Sally. Thank you again for extending the invitation to your ball to include Mary and me.’

  ‘You are most welcome, Rothley. It is good to see you again after all these years. Now, I know you were all introduced to my daughter, Sophie, the other night, but are you acquainted with Lady Olivia Beauchamp and Lady Helena Caldicot? Girls...’ Lady Charnwood smiled at Olivia and Nell ‘...this is Lord and Lady Rothley, who have just arrived in town...’

  Lady Rothley smiled a general greeting, but Lord Rothley’s gaze—his ebony eyes the image of Hugo’s—travelled without haste over the three girls and Olivia fancied that, as they reached her, his lips compressed as though he suppressed a smile. Her temper stirred as she imagined Hugo confiding their secret kiss to his brother. Rothley bowed again, elegant and assured.

  ‘Delighted, ladies.’

  ‘And this is Lord Hugo Alastair, Lady Todmorden’s younger son.’

  Olivia, her hackles raised after that lazy appraisal from Rothley, nodded in her most imperious manner and was incensed to see Hugo’s lips twitch in amusement as one dark brow rose.

  ‘Enchanted to make your acquaintance, ladies.’

  Their gazes fused and—although it might seem fanciful to think such a thing—the very air between them appeared to crackle with tension. Her cheeks heated and she forced herself to break eye contact, knowing she must do everything to avoid raising any speculation that they had already met. As she looked away, however, Olivia found the bright, inquisitive gaze of Lady Todmorden upon her. Immediately upon meeting Olivia’s eye Hugo’s mother diverted her attention to her grandson, leaving Olivia feeling on edge and vowing to be more careful to mask her reactions in future. She knew only too well that in their world it was imperative for a young lady’s actions to be above criticism. What she might say or do in private was very different to how she behaved in public and overfamiliar interaction with a man of Hugo’s ilk would do her reputation no good at all.

  ‘Your children are enchanting, Lady Rothley,’ said Nell. ‘Lady Charnwood? Would you object to me leaving the carriage to speak to them?’

  ‘Of course not, my dear. You may all stroll in the square if you wish, while Lady Todmorden and I talk, but be sure to keep an eye open for your ice cream being served—you would not like it to melt.’

  ‘Olivia? Sophie? Do you care to you join me?’ Nell sent a mischievous smile in Olivia’s direction and then flicked a glance in Hugo’s direction.

  Nell stood up and Hugo—nearest to the carriage door—handed out first Nell and then Olivia, Sophie having chosen to remain with her mother. As Hugo’s strong fingers closed around Olivia’s, tingles chased up her arm and through her body. She glanced up at him, through her lashes, and read the glint of amusement in those dark, half-hooded eyes. She snapped her attention away from him.

  Wretch! Making fun of me when I cannot retaliate.

  She thanked him briskly, avoiding further eye contact, and then quickly moved away, joining the other ladies and the children. She was relieved that Hugo remained by the carriage, talking to Lady Charnwood. She was not sure her nerves could withstand stilted, polite conversation in a group that included him.

  ‘Of course, Rothley is not Toby and Emily’s natural father,’ Lady Todmorden was saying, as Nell crouched beside Emily, trying to coax her to talk, ‘but he loves them every bit as much as if he were.’

  Toby was busily vying for Nell’s attention. ‘I am six. I can say lots of words. Much more than Emily.’

  ‘You’re a big boy for six,’ said Olivia, to distract him. ‘I thought you must be seven years old at the very least. I know a little girl, Susie, who is seven, and you are as tall as she is.’

  Toby puffed out his chest. ‘Does Susie have her own pony? I have my own pony and I can ride him, but it was too far for him to come with us.’

  ‘His little legs would have worn into stumps if you rode him all this way, Toby.’

  Olivia’s pulse stuttered. Hugo had materialised by her side and now he grasped Toby’s hands and swung him around and on to his back, where he clung like a small monkey, giggling. Hugo put his arms behind his back to support Toby, causing his coat to swing open. Without volition, Olivia’s gaze travelled downwards from his broad chest to linger on powerfully muscled thighs that a pair of well-cut breeches did nothing to disguise.

  She swallowed and averted her gaze, her corset all of a sudden restricting her breathing.

  ‘The waiter is on his way with our ice creams,’ said Rothley, for he, too, had joined them. He raised his hat. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, ladies.’

  Nell rose to her feet. She and Olivia, still battling to regain her composure, dipped curtsies.

  ‘Say goodbye, Toby,’ said Hugo.

  ‘Goodbye! I’m lifting your hat, Uncle Hugo, so you can say it was a pleasure, like Papa.’ Toby grabbed Hugo’s hat and waved it in the air.

  Hugo laughed. ‘So you are, Toby. Thank you, for my hands are rather full of small boy at the moment. Good day, ladies. It was indeed a pleasure.’

  He nodded, but he did not look at Olivia and she carefully avoided looking directly at him even though every nerve in her body was afire with awareness of him. Inst
ead she focused her attention on Lady Rothley.

  ‘I am pleased to have made your acquaintance, Lady Rothley. I hope we shall meet again very soon.’

  She was rewarded with a warm smile. ‘I hope so, too. This is my first ever visit to London and it would be pleasant to get to know a few ladies more my own age.’

  ‘Perhaps you might care to bring the children to visit Susie, the child I mentioned to Toby?’ Olivia explained about Susie, who was a recent addition to the Beauchamp household—a runaway girl who Papa and Rosalind had rescued way back in February and then decided to bring up as their own child. ‘Susie would love to meet some other children, I’m sure.’

  ‘Thank you, Lady Olivia. That is most kind.’

  The farewells completed, each party returned to their own carriage and enjoyed their tasty ices.

  * * *

  Later, after Olivia and Nell had returned to Beauchamp House and spent a pleasant half-hour examining Nell’s purchases, Nell suddenly fell quiet as she chewed her bottom lip.

  ‘What is wrong, Nell?’

  Nell took Olivia’s hand. ‘I am sorry. I should not have teased you. Please, Livvy...do take care.’

  Olivia frowned, genuinely puzzled. ‘Tease me? When?’

  ‘Today, in the carriage. I should never have asked if we could go and talk to the children. It was wrong of me. I thought it would be a bit of fun, to tease you after I noticed how you avoided looking at Lord Hugo. But now... I feel...oh, I don’t know. I feel a bit as though I have put you at risk.’

  ‘At risk? I am not at risk.’

  Nell gathered Olivia’s hand to her chest. ‘Take care, Livvy. He is dangerous.’