by Darcy Burke
“Well, that’s not really a pertinent question, now is it?” Lady Lydia asked as she poured milk into all three cups and added liberal dollops of sugar. It seemed Olivia’s preferences for her beverage were not to be taken into account. Lady Lydia continued on, “It’s quite natural to develop a fondness for an inappropriate male. Surely you’ve harbored a tendre for someone for whom you shouldn’t?” The corner of her mouth quirked up.
Olivia kept her face impassive, but of course she was harboring just such feelings at present. Was there a chance Lady Lydia knew that? But how could she? No one was aware of what had transpired between her and Jasper, not even Louisa. And they’d conducted their liaisons right under her nose, much to Olivia’s shame.
Lady Lydia leaned forward conspiratorially. “I have.” Her eyes sparkled with suppressed glee. “Do either of you know who Lord Sevrin is?”
Olivia shook her head.
Audrey’s eyes widened. “You can’t mean…”
Lady Lydia nodded, her lips curving into an almost seductive smile. “Tell me you don’t think he’s handsome.”
Audrey plucked up her cup. “Of course, he’s handsome, but he’s also a scoundrel. Why, you know the rumors about him.”
“They make him all the more delicious, don’t you think?” Lady Lydia picked up her cup for a brief sip.
“What rumors?” Olivia felt compelled to ask, though she didn’t really care to hear gossip, especially about someone she didn’t even know.
Lady Lydia peered at them over the rim of her cup. “He ruined his brother’s fiancée a few years ago.”
Olivia was glad she hadn’t yet picked up her tea for the shaking of the fine china might have revealed the faint tremor now coursing through her—ruined—body. Good heavens, what would they say about Jasper and the secret buried deep in his past?
“And can you believe, he’s been seen with Saxton of all people!” Lady Lydia remarked with exuberance.
Audrey’s mouth gaped. “Never say so!”
“Yes, but it’s yet to be decided if the pairing will harm Saxton or help Sevrin. I, for one, believe it will do the latter.”
“Which is why Sevrin’s captured your interest.” Audrey shook her head, a half smile curving her lips. “There’s no such thing as a reformed ruiner of young women, Lydia.”
Olivia wanted to know what Jasper had to do with any of this. Could Lady Lydia somehow be hoping to use his connection with Sevrin against him? Say, to encourage him toward Audrey? Surely a young woman like her couldn’t be so diabolical.
“Yes, well, perhaps Saxton’s infallibility will rub off on Sevrin. Saxton’s untouchable.” Lady Lydia set down her cup and her fingers hovered over the assortment of cakes. “I daresay he could ruin a girl and get away with it.”
He had. With two separate women apparently, not that anyone knew it. Olivia busied herself with her teacup, stirring the brew and then bringing it to her lips. She took the smallest of sips in deference to her churning stomach.
Audrey arranged a napkin on her lap. “No one is infallible, Lydia. Not even Lord Saxton could escape Society’s censure if he behaved poorly. More likely, his impropriety would generate an enormous scandal.” She blushed. “I’m sorry, Olivia. How rude of us to discuss Lord Saxton in this manner. He’s your cousin, after all.”
Olivia’s mind was spinning. “It’s all right.” She began to truly understand why Louisa had wished to protect him from the shameful truth of Olivia’s parentage. Although, her mere presence threatened him as well as Louisa.
Bernard stepped into the room once more. “Miss West, there is a Mr. Gifford here. Shall I show him in?”
Goodness no! Mr. Gifford mingling with the likes of Lady Lydia may not be scandalous, but it would be awful nonetheless. “I’ll just speak with him briefly. Please excuse me for a moment, ladies.” She got up and hurried after the butler before Lady Lydia could say something obnoxious.
Bernard took her to the entry hall, where Mr. Gifford stood in the center of the pale marble floor. “Good afternoon, Miss West. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
After the butler retreated, Olivia said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Gifford. I have guests at present.” Olivia wished he’d arrived first so she could’ve sent Lady Lydia and Audrey away.
His cheeks flushed slightly. “Oh, then I’ll be brief. It was so pleasant to see you yesterday. I wondered if you’re content here?”
The question startled Olivia. “Yes, quite.”
He smiled a bit sheepishly. “Of course. It’s just, well, an old friend of my mother’s has taken ill, and she’s looking for someone to manage her millinery shop. She sells gloves, hats, and the like. I immediately thought of you.”
Olivia’s pulse quickened. How she would’ve thrilled to such an offer just a few weeks ago. Indeed, if it wasn’t for Louisa, she would not only consider the arrangement, she would leap at the opportunity. “If I wasn’t so happy here, I would be tempted. Thank you for giving me a chance, however.”
He glanced away, his mouth turning down. “I see. Since you’ll be remaining here, would it be acceptable if I called on you?”
Oh dear. Would it? He was a friend, but not anyone she would see socially in her new life. How did one navigate multiple social classes? “I presume so.” That wasn’t really an answer, but it was the best she could offer at present.
Mr. Gifford smiled, but his eyes didn’t reflect the sentiment. There was something darker there, disappointment perhaps? “I’ll let you get back to your guests. Hopefully, our paths will cross again soon.”
She nodded. “I should like that. In the meantime, please give my best to your mother.”
“I shall. Good afternoon, Miss West.” He took her hand and bent low, brushing his lips over her bare knuckles. “Until next time.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gifford.”
He took his leave while Olivia stared after him. His touch had offered none of the thrill a mere look from Jasper elicited, but she couldn’t expect that. Not when Jasper commanded so much of her mind and spirit. Perhaps in time she would be able to welcome another man’s attention. The thought made her sad. She didn’t want another man’s attention. She wanted Jasper.
Olivia made her way back to the Rose Room. Audrey and Lady Lydia had stood. “Oh, there you are. We thought perhaps you’d been detained. Who is Mr. Gifford anyway?”
Under the direct scrutiny of Lady Lydia’s azure gaze, Olivia panicked. “He delivered something from a shop.”
Lady Lydia’s nose wrinkled. “You spent that much time with a tradesman? Your servants can accept your deliveries, Olivia.” She sighed. “We’ll get you turned around sooner or later, won’t we, Audrey?”
They left before Olivia realized she’d avoided showing them her sketches—happily. The more time she spent with Lady Lydia, the less she wanted to share anything personal, especially her unfinished designs. They represented the dreams she’d nourished through all of the lonely years she’d endured with Fiona. Dreams someone like Lady Lydia could never understand.
She went to the large rosewood desk in the corner of the room. She retrieved her sketches from the top drawer and fingered through them.
As she looked at each drawing—some barely started, others nearly finished—she contemplated Mr. Gifford’s visit. How ironic that a perfect employment situation should arise now that she’d finally found a home. She couldn’t deny the notion of independence and the opportunity to design were exciting, but the love of a real family with Louisa was even more appealing. She only wished she didn’t feel as if she were straddling both lives. She could never leave her mother’s infamy behind, no matter how entrenched she ever managed to become in Louisa’s Society.
“Miss West,” Bernard called from the doorway.
Olivia set her drawings on the desk and turned.
“Lord Saxton to see you.”
Even his name sent a thrill up her spine. “Thank you, Bernard.”
The butler departed as Jasper entered. Olivia
’s heart tripped over itself, and she couldn’t keep from smiling. He walked in, but merely nodded.
He’d made no promises. Last night was in the past, and they would continue forward as if it had never been. For the first time, Olivia was glad she was used to being disappointed and alone.
Chapter Nineteen
JASPER QUELLED the urge to take Olivia in his arms and kiss her senseless. Last night had been a beautiful refuge from reality, but it was done. Once he ensured Olivia’s background remained secret, he could focus on his own life—and he was nearly there.
He still hadn’t been able to get Prewitt alone, but expected to see him that night at Vauxhall. A friend of Louisa’s was hosting a party and she was close with Prewitt’s mother, whom he escorted everywhere.
He walked to the fireplace, at the opposite end of the room from where Olivia stood near the desk. He needed to keep his distance, both physically and mentally. To aid his purpose, he summoned his frostiest demeanor. “I came to tell you my investigator returned from Devon today.”
She remained near the desk, apparently content to keep as much space between them as he was. “Oh? What did he have to say?”
“He confirmed what Louisa’s man already learned—that your uncle died and your aunt left Newton Abbott. Some villagers remember a girl who lived with the vicar and his wife, and that she left many years ago, but they’ve no idea why. Your secret is safe, at least in Newton Abbott.” Her posture relaxed, and he continued. “I also spoke with Mr. Colman. No one at the theatre will recall an employee named Olivia West.”
Her brow furrowed. He tried very hard not to think about kissing those delicate wrinkles away. He didn’t want her to worry anymore. But it wasn’t his place to want that. She could no longer be his concern.
“How can that be?” she asked. “I was a seamstress there for several years when my mother was an actress.”
“I made sure Mr. Colman realized I was a better ally than enemy.”
“You did that?” She didn’t say ‘for me,’ but he heard it in her question anyway.
“I told you I would ensure you and Louisa would be happy. Just as you’ve ensured me there are no more secrets to unearth.” Even after last night, after he’d told her about Abigail, he didn’t know if he could really trust her. And in the end, it didn’t matter. He’d done all he could to keep her past hidden, and now it was up to her to be forthright.
“Thank you,” she said
They looked at each other a moment, and Jasper realized he ought to leave. But she interrupted his intention.
“I have your waistcoat.” She crossed to the settee and pulled her sewing basket from beneath it. She extracted the garment, and the blue and silver fabric shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “Would you like to try it on?”
That meant partially disrobing in front of her again. He couldn’t trust himself to do that.
She must’ve sensed his hesitation. She handed him the waistcoat. “Here, I’m sure the fit is excellent. My measurements were sound, and I’m, ah, familiar with your frame.” She blushed and looked away. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“It’s fine.” His voice sounded strained, likely because he was trying very hard not to relive last night’s bliss. “But I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you again.”
Her gaze flew back to his. “You didn’t. I completely initiated last night. If anything, I should apologize to you.”
“Let’s just put the entire thing behind us.” And because he had to make absolutely certain their liaison stayed that way—in the past—he added, “I’ll be announcing my engagement soon.”
Her eyes flickered the faintest amount of surprise, but not enough to indicate she was completely unaware. “Congratulations.”
Jasper’s mouth tasted bitter. What kind of blackguard was he to have lain with Olivia while he was planning to marry Philippa? The worst kind, of course.
“Jasper, I didn’t know you were here!” Louisa breezed into the drawing room with a grin. “Oh, and Olivia’s finished your waistcoat! How splendid. You must wear it to Vauxhall tonight.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” Unless Olivia takes it off of me later. Stop it, man. He’d consider avoiding tonight’s endeavor altogether, but he needed to talk with Prewitt. Then he’d be done with Olivia. For good.
OLIVIA made a show of tidying her drawings and replacing them in the desk drawer as Jasper kissed Louisa’s cheek and left. He’d been quite clear in his dismissal of her, but what had she expected? She’d known even last night as she’d drawn him into her bed that making love to him would be a solitary thing. Well, a second solitary thing.
She blinked back a tear. She would not cry over this. She’d survived much worse than…than…what? A broken heart?
Foolish, foolish girl! He was heir to a dukedom. She could never have a future with one such as him. What she’d shared with him was more than she could hope for. And now she had to do as he’d said and put it behind her.
“Bernard said you had guests for tea?” Louisa asked.
Olivia turned to see Louisa helping herself to a cake from the tray. Then she perched on the settee.
“Yes, Lady Lydia and Miss Cheswick.”
“Delightful. I’m so pleased you’re making friends, dear.”
Olivia wasn’t sure she’d call them friends, at least not Lady Lydia. “Audrey is quite nice.”
Louisa chuckled. “I gather you’ve figured out Lady Lydia? She’s a bit of a wolf. I knew you were a smart girl. No need to steer you away from bad decisions.”
If Olivia had joined her in eating a cake, she would’ve suffered her second choking fit in the Rose Room. She was currently the queen of bad decisions.
Olivia sat down next to Louisa. “When you say Lady Lydia is a wolf, what do you mean?”
Louisa swallowed the remnants of her cake. “She’s been molded by her great-aunt, the ton’s most notorious gossip. They use information to sculpt their feared positions in Society. And Lady Lydia is quite adept. Surely you’ve noticed how Miss Cheswick trails after her?”
“Yes, and I don’t understand it.”
“Because, as I said, you’re too smart for such nonsense. It’s good to be friendly with someone like Lady Lydia, however, because you never know when she might sink her wolf-like fangs into you. She’s a terrible busybody.”
Whose father could very well have the most interesting on-dit of the summer: Lady Merriweather’s new ward was nothing more than a bastard whose mother was a notorious whore. Olivia had to believe that if Lady Lydia possessed this information she’d use it. But to what end? Perhaps to force Jasper into marriage with Audrey? What a spectacular notion—and a baseless one at that. Audrey would never agree to such mischief.
“I can see that. She was quite interested in speculating about Jasper’s betrothal.”
“Well, that actually makes her quite normal,” Louisa said. “Everyone is speculating about his betrothal.”
“Do you think it will be Lady Philippa?” Olivia recalled the beautiful young woman’s perfect poise and elegance. She would make Jasper a stunning and more than appropriate wife.
“I expect so, yes.” She frowned. “Though, the longer he takes, the more I question an engagement at all. It’s not like him to dawdle. Once he makes up his mind, he usually follows through quite quickly and definitively. Like with that horse of his.”
Olivia didn’t agree, but only because Jasper had just assured her that his betrothal was imminent. She wouldn’t reveal that to Louisa, however. She didn’t want her suspecting their relationship went anything beyond that of “cousins.”
Louisa stood and went to the desk, on top of which sat a stack of unopened mail. “I suppose we’d best field these invitations. You don’t mind helping do you, dear? I don’t want to go to anything that doesn’t sound appealing to you.” She returned with the missives and sat back down, placing them in her lap.
She looked through the
m first and plucked one from the middle. “This is addressed to you, dear.”
Olivia accepted the sealed parchment. She didn’t recognize the handwriting. Her heart lurched as she unfolded the paper. The neatly penned words screamed from the page.
Leave Lady Merriweather’s house or your true parentage and background will be made public. The bastard daughter of Fiona Scarlet has no place in Polite Society.
She angled herself so that Louisa couldn’t read the note over her shoulder, and tried to keep her hands from shaking. Who would have sent this?
Louisa looked up from the invitation she was reading. “Who’s that from, dear?”
“Just a note from…Mrs. Gifford,” she fabricated. “She sends her best wishes.”
“How kind of her.” Louisa went back to reading.
Olivia should probably tell her the truth, and might yet still, but for now her mind was whirling. Jasper would want to know. She’d tell him tonight. Tonight! He planned to speak with Lord Prewitt. Was it possible he was too late? Had Prewitt already acted? But why send a note like this instead of spreading the gossip? Only someone who wanted her gone would have written such a thing.
Who wanted her gone?
Once, not too long ago, she might’ve said Jasper, but now she knew he wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be like him to send a note anyway. Last night he’d come to evict her, regardless of the hour, but had changed his mind once she’d convinced him she wasn’t a threat. Had he now changed his mind back? But no, he’d just been here and was still committed to helping her. He wasn’t behind the note.
Any number of people may not approve of her if they knew the truth, but only one would want to get rid of her. Just as he’d gotten rid of Jasper’s first love. The Duke of Holborn.
She folded the letter and set it in her lap. Though she wanted to tell Jasper, she couldn’t bring herself to make an already tense relationship between father and son worse. Not when she would give anything to have a father of her own.