by Kate Rolin
She may not have chosen Cyrus, but he would not allow harm to come to her. He knew deep down he would always protect her.
He called for Charles. Elizabeth had seemed insistent that if he were to find out anything of importance, it had to be within a week. That wouldn’t give him much time, but he had to try. He had to—for her.
And he would start tonight!
Chapter Fourteen
Early March, 1791
One week. It was nearly over. The past five days had flown by faster than any Olivia had ever experienced and she was no closer to making a decision. In fact, each day seemed to make her more and more uncertain. She attributed it to the hold Cyrus had on her heart, yet knowing that he was not an option did not make it any easier.
Though Derrick and his mother continued to treat her with the utmost respect, she suddenly found they grated on her nerves. She couldn’t say why, but ever since he’d proposed, she’d felt a sense of haughtiness from them both—as though they had no question that she would accept.
It made sense, the match. Josef liked Derrick and it appeared the feeling was mutual. He would have a father again. Olivia would no longer intrude on Elizabeth’s hospitality. And besides, he said he loved her.
You don’t love him.
Well, that didn’t matter, not anymore. The man she loved clearly did not feel the same. Yes, this was the logical choice. If she said no to Derrick for love, she’d have to say no to every man after him because she knew as long as the Duke of Alston lived, she would only love him. That would not bring Josef a father. Yet the knowledge of that did not make it any easier to say yes.
Not only did she have to give Derrick an answer in two days, he was escorting her tomorrow evening to one of Salomon’s spring concert series. Joseph Haydn was finally performing in London. Ever since she’d read of his arrival two months ago, she had dreamed of attending a performance. She had just hoped it would be with him.
But it wasn’t. Never would be. Olivia shook her head. She was just emotional over the fact that tomorrow was her twenty-ninth birthday and she was missing her family. Yes, that was all.
“Olivia, dear, aren’t you feeling well? You look flushed.”
Olivia looked across the drawing room they had retired to after supper to see her aunt regarding her with concern. Behind Elizabeth, Josef and Lord Brighton were laughing over some game they were playing.
Olivia stood. “Actually, I feel downright melancholy. I suppose I miss my family, tomorrow being my birthday and all.”
She began to take a turn about the room, hoping to clear her head. Oh, if only she could play her music! Wait—
“Aunt Elizabeth, did you say a while back that it would be perfectly fine to go to His Grace’s house to play my pianoforte? He’s gone again from London isn’t he? I fear nothing but music can soothe my soul tonight.”
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, of course Olivia. He has been gone one week to Winfield. I’ve heard he won’t return for a month. I wrote Charles long ago that he might expect you sometime. I’ll send for the carriage to take you!”
Lord Brighton had looked up and gave his wife a quizzical look, but Olivia missed it.
Olivia did notice her aunt seemed far too eager, but the excitement to touch her fingers to the keys again drove away any curiosity far from her mind.
Before she knew it, she was making her way up the steps of Cyrus’s townhouse. All of the windows were dark, affirming her aunt’s testimony to his departure. Perhaps Charles at least would still be here. She would be so happy to see him again.
As she knocked on the door, her stomach began to knot in nervousness. She had not returned to this house even once since she’d left. Could she stand to be back in the place that held some of her best and worst memories in such a short time?
Just as her resolve waned and she was about to turn and leave, the door opened. “Charles!”
“L-Lady Olivia! Is it really you?” He looked so surprised that Olivia laughed.
“Yes, it really is me! I’ve come to play my pianoforte.”
~
Meanwhile, at the Brighton home, a certain aunt was smiling satisfactorily to herself.
“Elizabeth, what are you doing?” Lord Brighton had left Josef to a book and walked over to Elizabeth, speaking in hushed tones.
“Oh Rand, I have a confession to make! I have told a fib to Olivia and I know she will forgive me for it, though she may be mad as fire at first when she returns.” She looked at her husband, eyes bright, and still smiling at this “confession”, dimples and all.
“Well, let’s hope for your sake she forgives you sooner rather than later. I fear if you had gone with her, she would have skinned you alive once she saw Alston is still in town.”
~
Charles was dumb-struck, thinking he was seeing a vision. Had Olivia returned to his master and all would now be right in the world? What was that? Something about her pianoforte? He blinked at her, not comprehending.
“I know His Grace is away so I won’t be disturbing him. I was hoping for some time to play my music alone tonight.”
Charles blinked again. He was just about to inform her that His Grace was, in fact, here in his study at this very moment, when he suddenly thought better of it. “Very well, right this way.” He turned and Olivia followed him inside.
As they walked to the drawing room, Olivia felt a need to fill the silence with chatter as the sight and smells of this home she’d loved threatened to overpower her. “I’m afraid I find myself feeling quite miserable tonight. Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday, you know, and I miss my parents and Karl and—well, I just need my music tonight. You understand.”
Charles understood all-too-well. He knew the name she’d stopped short of saying was that of his own master—whom he knew needed her music just as much, if not more.
How he wished many times that he’d allowed Cook to poison that Stratton’s food months ago as was suggested. Granted, Cook had been only teasing.
He thought.
But no matter, Olivia was here now.
“Here we are, my lady. I’ll leave you to it. Call if you need anything.” He started to leave when Olivia turned around.
“Charles!” She ran up to him, and standing on her tiptoes, placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. I’ve missed you so. So has Josef.” She smiled.
Charles looked stunned as his cheeks reddened, then a rare smile broke out on his face. “Thank you, my lady, I’ve missed you both as well. We all have. And…happy birthday Little Miss.” And with that, he left her alone.
She entered the dim room, not noticing Charles had left the door open. Her pianoforte was beautiful, gleaming from the moonlight that shone through the window and from the candle that Charles left. She ran a finger along the polished wood as she made her way to the seat. She hadn’t brought her sheet music, but there was no need tonight. Her heart would play from memory.
Removing her gloves, she paused just before her fingers touched the smooth keys. Emotion threatened to bubble over then, so she began to play to give it release.
~
Cyrus sat in his study going over reports of what his investigators had turned up on Stratton. Nothing so far of significance—disagreements with his late father, visits to brothels as a youth—disgraceful, but nothing necessarily worthy of alarm now.
Suddenly, he felt as he had that day he first laid eyes on Olivia at her return. He felt his heart beating again. Was…was that music he heard? He stood quickly and opened the door to his study. The sound was coming from somewhere below—from her pianoforte.
Hearing, but unbelieving, he followed the sound as if in a daze. The closer he came to the drawing room the slower his steps became. The door was open. Reaching the entrance, he froze.
There she sat, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.
And troubled. Were those tears on her cheeks?
His first instinct was to run to her, but he refused his legs to move. He’d seen he
r with Stratton, the way she had looked at him. And now he knew there were at least intentions to wed.
Had she come here to laugh at him? To throw the pain he’d caused her right back in his face? Not that he didn’t deserve it…
Rage filled him once more and a roar slice through the air. “What are you doing here?”
Silence.
Olivia sat frozen in place. At the door stood Cyrus, looking every bit as dark, and powerful as she had remembered. By the state of his clothes and stubbled jaw, disheveled as well—and handsome as sin.
Karl had been wrong. He’d always said her playing could drive away any man’s dark cloud, even the devil himself.
Well, she had played and the devil now stood before her.
And he was angry. Yes, the hard set of his jaw, clenched fists, and sharp glint in his black eyes showed anger. For her.
Oh, why did she ever risk coming here?
“Cyrus! I-I thought you were gone! Aunt Elizabeth said so. I’m…I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have come!”
She stood and grabbed her gloves. Avoiding his eyes, she tried to run past him, but he blocked her exit with an arm to the doorframe. He continued looking straight ahead, beyond her.
“I don’t care what Elizabeth said, you still didn’t answer my question. Why. Are. You. Here?” He gritted the words out between clenched teeth.
Olivia backed away. “Cyrus, I’m sorry! I thought you were away and I could play music in an empty house for comfort. I’m feeling quite miserable. You see…tomorrow is my birthday and I miss my family…”
Cyrus’s heart lurched. He knew exactly what day it was, but didn’t think about the pain she may be feeling because of it.
“And I miss…you.” She barely whispered the words.
Cyrus snapped.
“You miss me?! I don’t see how you could miss me with that Stratton to keep you company. A fine job he does of it, I’m sure. I saw you on the street that day. Saw you touch him. No doubt he’s more than happy to return the favor!”
Olivia straightened her spine, her blue eyes now like ice. “How dare you!” She swung up to slap him, but he was too quick and caught her wrist in mid-air. He didn’t let go and she glared at him. “Do you know what pain you’ve cause me? You! You who decided I was not good enough for you. You who said all those hateful things and abandoned me and my son who adored you. You…you…buffoon! Now, if you please, let me pass!”
Every word she shouted was a dagger in Cyrus’s heart, for he knew they were all true. His anger and fight left him and he dropped her wrist, but his other arm remained blocking her exit. “I only wanted what was best for you Olivia.” His voice was rough with emotion and he hung his head.
“Best for me? How was breaking my heart, leaving me, and making it difficult to accept a marriage proposal from a man who has stayed by my side best for me?”
His head jerked up and he slowly turned to look at her. “You…you mean you haven’t accepted?”
Olivia looked down at her hands, her cheeks burning. “No, I promised I would give him an answer in a weeks’ time. That was five days ago.”
So that had been why Elizabeth gave him a deadline. He clinched his fists. Two days. Cyrus had two days for his investigators to come up with more information.
At Cyrus’s silence, Olivia swallowed and looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. “I’m sorry I came Cyrus, truly I am. Let me pass and I’ll be gone from here, from you.”
At the pain he saw in her eyes, Cyrus lowered his arm and stepped aside. She passed quickly, taking any hope and second chance Cyrus might have had with her. That was it. He’d lost her.
Just then, the footsteps stopped. He turned to see Olivia had paused in the hallway and turned back to him. Uncertainty showed on her face as she fingered the material of her skirt. “Derrick is taking me to a concert tomorrow night for my birthday. I’m sure you’ve heard it’s Haydn. I…I’d dreamed of attending with you. I thought you should know.”
At that she turned and left. Cyrus stood there for quite some time, hardly believing she had even been here, that she had spoke to him. Yes, they’d both been angry, but her presence had soothed him nonetheless. And now she was gone.
There was nothing else for him to do so he made his way toward the stairs. Each step he took brought her face to mind. Reaching the second floor, he sped up in frustration and stormed into his bedchamber, rattling both the door and his valet. William scurried out of the room, deciding to come back later, while Cyrus was too lost in thought to notice. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.
He replayed their conversation again in his mind. What could she have meant for him to really hear?
She had informed him she was attending the concert he’d once promised to take her to, but with another man. Why had she said that? I thought you should know… He sensed there was another meaning behind her words.
Suddenly, Olivia’s story of Karl attending the opera with another girl came floating back to him. That was where she had won him back. Was Olivia offering him that chance to win her back as well?
He could be grasping at air, his wants blinding him. But in two days she could be betrothed to Stratton. This would be his last chance.
Determination set his jaw and he resolved he had to try.
Chapter Fifteen
The following day, Olivia found herself covered in love by her son, aunt, and new uncle. She ended up having a very happy start to her birthday with a special cake and gifts presented to her at an early dinner.
Later, her maid readied her for the concert that evening, dressing her in the same maroon gown she’d worn to the Christmas Ball. She watched her reflection in the mirror as Sarah did her hair. Perhaps, if Cyrus caught the meaning of her words the evening before—if he still cared—perhaps tonight would end happily as well.
As Olivia had ridden back from Cyrus’s the night before, she’d had time to think. Even if Cyrus didn’t catch her meaning—or worse, he did but did not feel the same—she could not marry Derrick. She only loved Cyrus and seeing him again solidified that fact. He would always be there in her heart, making it impossible to give herself completely to another man. Derrick deserved the whole heart of his wife and as she realized now, it clearly couldn’t be her, even if it meant raising Josef alone—but she wouldn’t be truly be alone, not with Aunt Elizabeth and Lord Brighton nearby.
She had rendered her aunt speechless on her return last night. Elizabeth had been prepared for Olivia’s wrath at her deception, but instead was merely given a kiss goodnight as she made her way up to bed, exclaiming that the music had exhausted her.
Olivia was actually grateful for her aunt’s deception sooner than even Elizabeth had anticipated. She felt at peace now that she knew she could not marry Derrick. Yes, he was taking her to the concert tonight, but she would attend as his friend.
She felt it only fair to go ahead and give him her answer tonight as well. She wouldn’t make him wait another day. He’d been very understanding to her hesitation and she hoped that would be the case at her rejection as well.
And Olivia hoped beyond hope to see Cyrus there.
~
Derrick arrived for Olivia in the Wainwright carriage. Having settled back in, he looked at her, his green eyes piercing. “You look beautiful, Olivia.”
Olivia blushed as usual and noticed how handsome Derrick looked as well in his dark blue coat and breeches, but that was as far as her admiration went. She knew her heart belonged to the black-haired, dark-eyed Duke.
She watched Derrick reach into his coat, as if feeling for something, and pull out a small wrapped package. “Happy birthday, Olivia.”
“Oh, thank you Derrick.” Olivia took the small box praying it wasn’t a ring. It was too soon, her deadline wasn’t up yet. She was also hoping to wait until after the concert ended to tell Derrick her answer so as not to publicly humiliate him. Thanks to Lady Wainwright, all of London knew he had basically been courting her and would expe
ct to see her sitting beside him tonight. His mother and a few other relatives were to join them in their box and he would be left alone to explain things if she was not with him.
Her fingers nearly shook as she opened it, but then she breathed a sigh of relief. Inside was an exquisite silk ribbon. Why, it is exactly—
“The color of my eyes. So when you wear it you will think of me and how I hate to be parted from you.” He flashed a dazzling smile.
Oh dear. Would she be able to make it through this entire evening? And when did he start to seem so…cocky? “Thank you, Derrick. It’s lovely.”
“I’d say you should wear it now, but with the color of your dress, you’d look like Christmas herself!” He laughed at his own joke.
Olivia, wanting to roll her eyes, merely laughed in return. How had she ever considered marrying him?
Having arrived now at the concert, Derrick led her through the crowd to their box. They were joined by Lady Wainwright and Lord and Lady Hereford whom Olivia remembered from the ball. She had not realized at the time that they were Derrick’s uncle and aunt. Olivia fanned herself as they joined in pleasant conversation, yet all the while was conscious of every newcomer she sensed enter a box within her view.
The crowd quieted as the concert was about to begin, yet Olivia still saw no sign of Cyrus. Perhaps she had been too vague. In her hurt and anger, she had said the only thing that came to her. Once she had things settled with Derrick later, she would pay Cyrus one last visit and speak plainly.
Just then, Derrick leaned over and whispered, “You wore that dress the first time I saw you. I knew I would love you right then and there.”
That was it. Olivia could let this go on no further, even if it meant his embarrassment. She opened her mouth to speak to him and—
“Good heavens!”
Olivia startled and looked behind her to see Lady Wainwright’s mouth hanging open in shock. She followed her gaze to a box across the theatre.
Her heart stopped.
There he was, dressed in sharp black. He was alone and standing, looking down at the crowd, when his gaze shot up at Lady Wainwright’s loud outburst, right to where Olivia sat. The crowd murmured more at Cyrus’s presence than Lady Wainwright’s comment because it was a rare thing indeed for the Duke of Alston to attend a function like this.