Lady Olivia and the Infamous Rake

by Janice Preston

  ‘I told you Alastair was waiting in here and that you weren’t to come in. Why must you persist in being such a bloo—blasted nuisance?’ He pushed her in the direction of the door. ‘Go on. Out! And please have a bit more care for your reputation in future.’

  Hugo bit back a smile at the absurdity of Alex lecturing Olivia on correct behaviour. Olivia stuck her nose in the air.

  ‘Without me,’ she announced, ‘you, Alexander Beauchamp, would be much poorer and, probably, still drunk or drugged, lying insensible in some squalid room somewhere with a dirty, diseased—’

  ‘Silence!’ Alex strode towards Olivia and she skipped towards the door, keeping beyond his reach.

  ‘I deserve some credit for helping you last night. It was me who had the nous to send for Lord Clevedon to help you. Otherwise Lord Hugo would have been overpowered because you, brother dear, could barely stand.’

  Alex wagged his head at her, waving his hand as if shooing a dog away. ‘Have you got irritating little sisters, Alastair?’

  Hugo shook his head. ‘I have no sisters, irritating or otherwise. But—although I agree your sister should not have come in here knowing...’ and he captured Olivia’s gaze, raising a brow at her, prompting pink to flush her cheekbones ‘...that I was in here alone—I am happy to have this opportunity of thanking her for her cool head and her prompt action last night. Without her, as she rightly says, the outcome could have been very different.’

  Her beaming smile made him feel a hero.

  Alex scowled. ‘I suppose you have a point,’ he grumbled. ‘But, now that’s done, let’s go. We have important business, Sis. Run along and attend to your sewing or your flowers or whatever other crucial activities await you.’

  Sympathy swelled inside Hugo, but he realised that to voice such would not only reignite the squabble between brother and sister, but also encourage Olivia. The tendre she had developed for him could lead nowhere. She would not see the risk in pursuing it. He knew only too well what the result might be if she did not take care.

  He bowed. ‘Good day to you, Lady Olivia.’

  She held his gaze boldly and, a split second before he broke the contact, she bobbed a curtsy.

  ‘And good day to you, Lord Hugo.’

  * * *

  ‘You are in a lively mood, Livvy,’ said Nell, as they left Lord and Lady Postbridge’s garden party the following afternoon. ‘You have left at least three young men nurturing high hopes that they might win your hand before the end of the Season.’

  They had attended the garden party with their friend, Lizzie Tubthorpe, and her mother, who had taken Lady Glenlochrie’s place as chaperon. Lady Tubthorpe and Lizzie had walked on ahead, giving Nell and Olivia an opportunity to exchange views not only on the party and the other attendees’ gowns, but also on the beaux who had clustered around them like bees around nectar.

  Olivia was satisfied that she had hidden her low mood successfully. She thought entirely too often about Lord Hugo Alastair even though her common sense knew he was totally unsuitable for her. There were plenty of other men just as handsome as and far more acceptable than that rogue, but they simply failed to interest her in the way Hugo did.

  ‘Who is your preferred beau?’ Nell continued teasingly.

  Olivia waved her hand in the air. ‘Those boys? Not one of them. Besides, I am not like you, Nell. I did not come to London with the purpose of finding myself a husband. I mean to spend a year or two enjoying myself before settling down.’

  ‘I might have come here with the original intention of marrying well,’ said Nell in an unusually acerbic tone, ‘but our circumstances have changed since then, as you well know. Now your papa is my guardian I am no longer in danger from my Uncle Tadlow’s scheming and so I am no longer in any rush to wed.’

  Olivia slipped her arm through Nell’s and hugged it close to her body. ‘I am pleased to hear it, my dear step-aunt, for it means we shall continue to have fun together as we coax as many young men as possible to fall hopelessly in love with us and then watch at a distance as they enjoy the agony of their broken hearts.’

  Even as she spoke such words, an image of Hugo arose in her mind’s eye and her heart ached for him. Was this love? Well, if it was, it was not much fun.

  ‘I did wonder...’ Nell fell silent.

  They were nearing the carriage now and, as one, their steps slowed.

  ‘What did you wonder?’

  ‘Well. I...now, do not fly up into the boughs, Livvy, but... Lord Hugo...there is something there. Between you.’

  Olivia bit back a gasp. Could Nell read her mind?

  ‘I do not know if it is because of what happened at Vauxhall Gardens, but I saw the looks you exchanged last night.’ Nell’s violet eyes were huge with concern. ‘You are both constantly aware of where the other is, even if you are on opposite sides of the room. And I know that you think about him...no, do not deny it, for I know it. You bring his name up in conversation. Your eyes light up when he is present. And when, such as today, he is not there...your gaiety seems almost too gay, if that makes sense?’

  She would die rather than admit to Nell how her heart yearned for Hugo.

  ‘It does not matter what I think of him. He is a penniless rake and I am...well, I am my father’s daughter. I am expected to marry well.’

  ‘He is the son of a marquis. He is almost as high born as you are.’

  ‘My father would not countenance him.’

  Olivia’s throat ached with suppressed pain. It didn’t seem to matter how strong her feelings were, neither Hugo nor Papa would take note of her wishes. It had been the same her entire life—Mama had only noticed her when she misbehaved and her brothers only when she did something outrageous or nagged them. Otherwise they mostly ignored her. She was nothing but an unwanted irritant in their lives. And now Hugo... It seemed the only times he took notice of her was when she annoyed him. Well, if that was what it took to get his attention, that was what she must do.

  ‘Anyway, this conversation is stupid,’ she said airily. ‘I have no wish to marry. Now, let us hurry. Lady Tubthorpe is beckoning us.’

  The carriage deposited them at Beauchamp House and they went inside to an ecstatic welcome from Hector and a skipping Susie, who sang at the top of her voice, ‘Dom-in-ic. Dom-in-ic. Dom-in-ic.’

  Olivia and Nell exchanged a look.

  ‘Susie!’ Olivia caught hold of the little girl. ‘Are Dominic and Aunt Cecily home?’

  She had missed the calm good sense of her aunt more than she liked to admit. Even though Olivia could not confide what had happened to her aunt, she knew that, somehow, she would feel better with her back home.

  ‘Dom-in-ic!’ shouted Susie.

  The governess, Miss Pyecroft, came hurrying from the back of the house.

  ‘Oh, my goodness, ladies, I am so sorry. We were downstairs and when the news came that Lord Avon had returned, Susie rushed up here before I could stop her. We were making jam tarts together and my hands... I had to wash them. Although I see—’ and she grabbed hold of Susie by the wrists ‘—little Miss Susie had no such compunction. Susie, really...come with me now. You must have left sticky hand marks everywhere.’

  As she disappeared into the nether regions of the house, she called over her shoulder, ‘Lord Avon is in the drawing room, if you wish to see him.’

  Olivia exchanged a look with Nell. ‘I wonder if Aunt Cecily is travelling home with Papa and Rosalind.’

  They went to the drawing room, where Dominic was chatting to Alex and Freddie. He looked up and smiled as they entered.

  ‘Just in time to save me from telling the tale twice,’ he said.

  ‘Did Aunt Cecily not travel back with you?’

  Dominic’s lips firmed. ‘No. She formed a desire to visit Great-Aunt Drusilla, so I dropped her off at Leyton Grange on my way back to London.’

 
‘Great-Aunt Drusilla?’ Alex grimaced. ‘But none of ’em can stand the old battle-axe. What’s she gone there for? And how long before she comes home?’

  Dominic shrugged. ‘I do not know. She and Father—I do not know. But she won’t be back for a few weeks at least. Father and Rosalind should arrive home tomorrow, though, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Thea—for that is what she likes to be called, not Dorothea—will come here in a few weeks’ time after their honeymoon trip to the Lakes.’

  Dominic soon left the drawing room to go upstairs and change out of his travel-stained clothes. Olivia followed him.

  ‘What were you going to say about Papa and Aunt Cecily, Dom?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said as he took the stairs two at a time.

  Olivia hurried after him, lifting her skirts clear of her feet. She caught up with him just before he disappeared into his bedchamber.

  ‘Tell me. Please. Did they argue?’

  For that is what it sounded like he had been about to say—even though Papa and Aunt Cecily never argued. Not like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Cecily. Dominic paused, his expression softening as he looked down at Olivia. Her heart quailed, her stomach churning at that look. Dominic was only ever kind to her when he felt she was in need of his big brotherly protection; otherwise he was as bad as Uncle Vernon with his teasing.

  ‘They did argue, Dominic. I can tell, so please do not lie to me. When will Aunt Cecily be coming home?’

  ‘Livvy.’ He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. ‘It is nothing to worry about. It was only the slightest of disagreements.’

  ‘But why? Why would they quarrel?’ To her horror, Olivia felt tears burn behind her eyes. ‘They never argue. She will come home, won’t she?’

  ‘Of course she will.’

  But something in his eyes as they flicked away from hers...in the uncertain way in which he said those four words...warned Olivia that it was by no means certain.

  ‘Did she send me a message?’

  Dominic gave a rueful smile, then pulled her into a hug. ‘Sorry, brat, but, no. She was a little...preoccupied.’ He pulled back then and smiled down at her. ‘But don’t fret. You still have Father and me and Alex. We are still a family.’

  Except Papa now has Rosalind. He won’t have time for me. And if...

  Olivia swallowed, her throat aching. If they had children, where would that leave her? Her world seemed to be turning upside down. She could see herself in the future, becoming less and less important to her family as they busied themselves with their new lives.

  ‘Besides, you will probably get married yourself very soon.’

  She stared at her brother, shock making her stomach clench as the implication of his words hit her. ‘Is Aunt Cecily getting married?’

  Surely not...her father, uncle and aunt, all in one year? How could life change so very drastically in such a short time?

  ‘This is strictly between us, brat,’ said Dominic, ‘but she may do. Lord Kilburn’s estates border Leyton Grange—she refused an offer from him earlier this year but it appears she is having second thoughts.’ He patted her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Livvy. It may never happen.’

  Dominic disappeared into his room and closed the door, leaving Olivia standing alone in the upstairs corridor, fighting tears as she wondered what was happening to her precious family. How could Aunt Cecily abandon her like this? She was the only mother she’d known since she was five years old. Her own mother had rejected her, but Aunt Cecily had always been there. Now, though...she had turned her back on Olivia without a thought. Was she really so unimportant? So...unlovable?

  Angrily, Olivia swiped at the tears that now wet her cheeks.

  I do not care. I’ll show them I don’t care.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Olivia stared at her brothers suspiciously. Since Dominic’s return they had been uncommonly protective towards her and that only served to worry her more. That Alex was privy to more information about what went on at Uncle Vernon’s wedding was clear. And she hadn’t heard her brothers argue once—and that was unheard of. She’d bet they’d argue if she told Dominic what Alex had been up to while he’d been away—but then she remembered that much of that was her fault in the first place, so she did not risk opening that particular topic of conversation.

  ‘You both intend to escort us?’ she said. ‘Why?’

  It was the evening of Dominic’s return to London, and she had come downstairs, dressed and ready for the Pendletons’ soirée. The Pendletons’ twin daughters—Lynette and Louisa—had made their debut this year and were friends of both Olivia and Nell. Now here were Dominic and Alex, dressed in their evening finery, waiting in the drawing room for her, Nell and Lady Glenlochrie to be ready to leave.

  ‘You should be grateful to have two such handsome, elegant gentlemen as your escorts,’ said Alex, with a swagger and a smirk. ‘I promised Aunt Cecily I would escort you while she’s out of town and that’s what I’m doin’.’

  ‘And I am at a loose end,’ said Dominic, ‘so I may as well go there as anywhere.’

  Olivia eyed him gloomily. ‘You do know that whenever you show your face at any of these society events I suddenly become much more popular with all the simpering young misses, Dominic?’

  He smiled. ‘Can I help it if I am irresistible?’

  ‘Hmmph. The question is, Brother dear—is it you who is irresistible, or the prospect of being a future duchess?’

  She had been hoping Hugo would be at the soirée to watch over Alex as Papa was still not home; she had hoped she might snatch a quiet word with him—she intended to pay him some of what she owed him—and she had also fantasised that he might, finally, dance with her. There were bound to be a few informal dances for the younger set tonight, while the seniors played cards and gossiped. Those hopes were much less likely to come to fruition with Dominic there. He could be so stuffy at times and she just knew he would object to her even speaking to Hugo.

  * * *

  When Hugo appeared in the doorway, flanked by Lords Clevedon and Sudbury, Olivia’s heart seemed to perform a somersault in her chest, leaving her temporarily gasping for breath. He was so handsome. So sophisticated. His dark gaze swept the room—where much of the furniture had been removed to provide space for dancing—and came to rest upon Olivia. His expression seemed to harden and he looked away. Exactly as he had reacted to her when he first caught sight of her at the Denby ball, she realised with a sinking heart.

  It was so difficult to understand what he truly thought or felt. He seemed determined to hide any genuine feelings behind a barrier of alternating disapproval and boredom and yet...she couldn’t be so wrong about that kiss. Could she? And then, in those few, unguarded moments after the fight...his anguish...that tender moment...that was not her imagination. But now, yet again, he seemed as remote as ever and she felt as confused as ever.

  Why do you fool yourself that a worldly sophisticated man like Hugo would be interested in a silly little girl like you? Even your own family don’t think you important enough to be told the truth of why your aunt hasn’t come home.

  Then Lord Clevedon caught Olivia’s eye, smiled and said something to Hugo and Lord Sudbury before leaving them in the doorway, clearly making his way towards Olivia. On the brink of returning to the safety of Lady Glenlochrie’s side, she hesitated. She could not risk annoying his lordship after his help at the Denby ball. So she waited, trying to fathom Hugo’s expression as he tracked Clevedon’s progress around the room. His features seemed to have hardened, his lips set, his dark brows lowered. Then he glanced at Olivia and immediately his expression blanked and he directed his attention to Lord Sudbury.

  That he was annoyed with his friend was clear, but why? Was it...could it be that he did not want Clevedon to dance with her? Was he jealous, if only a tiny bit? That thought buoyed her hopes, but also stirred her indignation. If he did not
want to speak with her or dance with her, that was up to him. But he had no right to object if another man chose to do so.

  Then Lord Clevedon was before her, bowing.

  ‘Might I have the pleasure of this dance, Lady Olivia?’

  She smiled at him, bobbing a curtsy, then placed her gloved hand in his. She’d show Lord Arrogant Alastair she wasn’t about to stand around like a wallflower waiting for him to ask her to dance.

  Who does he think he is, anyway? Nothing but a rake, with no title of his own and no land or anything. I can look far higher than Hugo Alastair...

  She ignored the inner voice that whispered that she did not want to look higher than him. It was him, and only him, that she wanted, but his casual dismissal of her both hurt and infuriated her.

  ‘Avon has returned, I see,’ Clevedon remarked as they circled and met and parted again through the steps of the country dance. ‘Does that mean the Duke will soon be home as well?’

  Olivia was shaken from her brooding by his question. ‘Yes. I believe so. My stepmother’s grandfather is travelling with Papa and the Duchess, so they travel at a slower pace than Avon.’

  She flicked a glance at the doorway. Hugo was still there, his dark gaze on her, so she smiled up at Clevedon. If flirting and dancing with his friend was the only way to command Hugo’s attention, then that was what she would do.

  ‘You present a most charming picture this evening, my lady,’ said Clevedon, bowing at the end of the dance. ‘It is warm tonight, but you manage to maintain your cool poise when all about you are wilting in the heat.’

  Olivia laughed. ‘Appearances, my lord, are deceptive in that case. Inside, I am melting.’

  He appeared somewhat taken aback and she regretted her choice of words, for that phrase conjured up how she had felt inside when Hugo kissed her. Just the memory of his lips on hers...his tongue in her mouth...heat flushed her chest and neck and crept inexorably to her cheeks.

  ‘Might I procure you a glass of lemonade?’