by Kate Rolin
“Apparently Derrick did not leave for Africa nine years ago. It was actually a year later than he claims—right after the late Lord Wainwright’s death. There’s no proof, but a servant overheard them arguing about his inheritance one night. Lord Wainwright had apparently lost it all in some investment scheme. George, of course, would receive his own title upon his death, and with the inheritance meant for Derrick lost, it left him with nothing.
“The servant claims she heard a loud thud and then saw Derrick flee the room. She waited a bit and then walked in to find Lord Wainwright lying in the floor unconscious. You’ll remember he died a few days later. Clara always said it was a fall due to a fever, but the servant believes Derrick was behind it. She was just too afraid of Clara to speak up at the time and once Derrick disappeared, she figured he would not return anyhow.”
Cyrus rubbed his jaw in disbelief. “Good heavens, Stratton…kill his own father? Do you believe it?”
“That’s not all, Cyrus. The inheritance meant for Derrick was lost due to a poor investment choice made by his father and the company that benefited was one backed by my own late brother Joseph. That must have been Derrick’s motivation in pursuing Olivia. He knew my brother had left her quite a large sum and believed it should have been his.”
Cyrus stormed over to the fireplace in front of them, gripping the mantle so hard his knuckles were white. “So Olivia was merely some pawn in his little game?” His voice was deadly low.
“I’m afraid that’s still not all Cyrus. The reason it took your investigator so long to get back to you was because he was waiting on information about Derrick’s time in Africa. He was tracking down one of Derrick’s former ‘colleagues’ that he had located near London.
“Apparently, the night he fled, he smuggled aboard a ship of traders headed for Africa. They actually were slave traders and Derrick remained with them. He worked the first few years in Africa helping to kidnap and smuggle anyone he could and ship them off to Jamaica as slaves—I’m told the conditions there are horrific. They would be used to harvest what is used to make chocolate, the very chocolate used by White’s Chocolate House. I knew that raucous place was evil and now I especially refuse to ever set foot in there.
“But back to my point, it seems that Derrick was one of the best traders and was paid handsomely until his arrest there.”
“He was arrested in Africa?”
“Yes, or taken into some sort of custody there. He apparently lost control later on and became too wicked for even the most tolerant of slave traders. Cyrus…he raped—and even killed—countless women, some of them only girls… Women he’d capture before sending them off to Jamaica. He became perpetually drunk and would fight off anyone who tried to stop him. It was only once he had fallen asleep one night that some men who had had enough of him came and locked him up. He stayed in their custody until they released him just before his return here. He never was a tutor of any kind as he claimed, nor was his business ‘legitimate’.”
“I left Olivia…with that…monster.” He gritted the words out.
“Cyrus, while I do believe you have been selfish, you must not blame yourself in this. I, too, was unaware as to the extent of evil in him—though I did dislike him.”
“But, if Olivia had married him, if—“
“Cyrus, you stopped him. You made it in time. He’s locked away now in the prison and I understand they will also be looking into his father’s death now. Clara has left to stay with George indefinitely. It’s over, Cyrus. Olivia is safe.”
Cyrus would see to it she stayed that way. When he thought of what that monster could have done to her…
“There’s another matter I need to discuss with you as well, Cyrus.” Elizabeth walked up next to him. There was a sparkle in her eyes now. “Now that Olivia has recovered, it is not proper for her to remain here, not without her son present and you no longer acting as her guardian. Don’t look so surprised, of course I know about that too.”
“Well, say what you like, but she’s not leaving! Not unless she wants to.” Cyrus’s anger flared and he shot Elizabeth a dark look—which then quickly vanished as he saw her dimples had reappeared.
“I was hoping you’d say that. I suppose I could simply send Josef, but even with him present, society would not approve of the situation for long. But, perhaps…there is another way?” Her smile broke free now.
“I’m going to marry her, Elizabeth, if that’s what you mean. I won’t ever let her go again—unless she wishes it.”
“She won’t.”
“Well, regardless, I wanted to wait another week before broaching the subject with her. To give her more time to recover—emotionally as well.”
“Very well, one week then. Oh, and Cyrus? Don’t worry about Josef. He can remain with us until you return from your honeymoon. It would only be fair, don’t you think?” Her eyes twinkled.
Cyrus wished he felt her confidence of Olivia’s acceptance of him.
Elizabeth started to leave when he stopped her with a hand to her arm. “Elizabeth…thank you.”
She looked up at him smiling and reached a hand to his face. “Two loves in a lifetime. You are quite indebted to me, aren’t you? And Cyrus…you are most welcome.”
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia sat at her pianoforte one week later wearing her pretty light blue morning gown and looking to be in the image of health. She played her songs to an empty room as Cyrus had finally felt her well enough to leave her side to see to some matter in town.
She didn’t mind the solitude, but she did feel restless. She’d been telling him she was perfectly well for days, hoping he’d take the hint and marry her already. But if he needed more time to realize it on his own, so be it. She would wait forever for him.
As she played, she thought to Josef. Dear, sweet Josef. He’d been to see her every day and she was ready to have Aunt Elizabeth send him here to stay. In fact, she would speak to Cyrus about it when he returned. It never occurred to Olivia that she would stay anywhere but with Cyrus now.
Apparently Lord Brighton had secured a new tutor for Josef—someone he knew personally and a family friend. They had not told Josef of everything that had happened, only that Derrick had not been who he claimed and had gone far away, no longer to be his tutor. As for Olivia, they did tell him his mother had been in an accident, but did not go into any details of how or by whom. At eight years old, he was just glad to see she was well and to see her happy again with Cyrus. In that, he was very perceptive.
Olivia was so lost in thought she never saw him standing in the doorway. When her song ended, he clapped causing her to start. She’d have to put a bell in that doorway. “Cyrus! You startled me! How long have you been home?”
Home. She called this home. Cyrus took it for the encouragement he needed and stepped into the room.
Olivia didn’t know why, but looking at him now, there was something different about him that caused her to have butterflies in her stomach.
As if his resolve suddenly waned, he stopped in his tracks and tore his dark eyes from her to look about the room. “Olivia, I…I can’t begin to say how relieved I am that you are recovered.”
“Indeed I am, Cyrus. Completely recovered.”
“When I think about you with…and all because of my foolishness…” Though his back was to her now, she saw his hands clenched at his sides.
Olivia remained seated. “Cyrus, you mustn’t blame yourself. He fooled us all. Why, I should have refused his proposal from the beginning. Deep down I knew I could never marry him…even if I couldn’t have what I wanted.”
At that, Cyrus turned sharply to look at her, though he stayed rooted to the spot where he stood across the room. “Olivia, can you ever forgive me?”
“If you can forgive me. As hurt as I felt, I am no less guilty of poor behavior.”
“Olivia, I…” Cyrus ran a hand over his mouth, “I never thought I would really live again. Not after Lydia. I’ve been a dead man walking for a
lmost five years now. And then one day you walked into my life—you and Josef—and as much as it frightens me, I am alive again. I feel, I breathe, I…” He stopped, struggling to go on.
This was it. Olivia’s pulse quickened and her heart soared. The uncertainty she saw in his eyes at her silence drew her toward him. She stood and took a few steps, still stopping a space away. “Cyrus, I’ve never thanked you for saving me that awful night. Without you I’d be dead…or worse.” She swallowed. It was difficult to mention that terrible night, but the words needed to be said.
“I wasn’t alone.” Cyrus thought back to his prayer and every one he had prayed since. Olivia looked at him questioningly. Instead of elaborating, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a little box in brown paper, much like how her bracelet had been wrapped. “I got this for you quite a while back now. I intended to give it to you for your birthday, but…well, here it is now.”
Olivia reached to take it. Her fingers shook as she opened it, hoping to see…
~
A ring. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. The stone setting matched that of her bracelet. But more than that was what it signified. She looked up with tears in her eyes, “How long have you had this?”
“I had just bought it that day in St. James, just before I saw you.”
With him. Olivia knew what he’d seen. No wonder he had disappeared. He’d planned to come back to her, only to see her with someone else. Her heart broke at the pain she knew it must have caused him. “Oh Cyrus, I…”
“Olivia, I need you to know. I wasn’t pushing you away when I sent Malcolm to you. Elizabeth informed me that was the impression he left. It was past time I absolved my guardianship, and I wanted us to come together because it was what you truly wanted, not because of any financial relationship. I had spoken with him the day before I even saw you. It was just unfortunate timing he was unable to see you until the day after St. James.”
Still a standing a step away, Cyrus paused before continuing, “I love you, Olivia, with my whole heart. I will do everything in my power to see to it I never hurt you like that again. I-I love you and I need you. I need you and Josef both in my life. I know now that if you leave, I will simply return to being a moving corpse, for my heart and my soul remain with you. Olivia, I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you to be my wife and I will devote the rest of my life to you—however long that may be.”
His eyes were full of both love and apprehension, yet they held her gaze. Olivia could hardly believe that the moment she had dreamed of nearly her whole life was here—now. Cyrus wanted to marry her. She stood there looking at him, her heart pounding, while Cyrus’s own heart stopped for a moment. When she finally nodded, she ran to him and he took her in his arms and held her tight. He would never let her go again.
Olivia pulled away suddenly, “You forgot to put it on.” She smiled up at him teasingly and a wide grin—partially from relief—split his face.
“A mistake I shall rectify immediately.” Cyrus took the ring from her and lifted her hand.
A trail of fire blazed down Olivia’s finger from his touch as he slid it on. It fit perfectly. As she stood there admiring it, an idea came to her.
Putting on a straight face, she cleared her throat. “There’s just one problem—three actually—that you haven’t addressed.”
Concern clouded Cyrus’s eyes and she was quick to give him a sly grin as reassurance. She took a step back out of his arms.
“First, there’s the matter of your age. You are far too old for me. Why—you’re only two years younger than my own father.”
Olivia paused and Cyrus’s eyes flashed, that half-smile appearing that Olivia had always found quite rakish. He took a step towards her.
“Never mind the fact,” Olivia stepped back again, “that my father was only twenty years old when I was born. Let’s see…” She continued stepping back, ticking off her fingers, “I am twenty-nine now, so that, plus twenty, minus two of course—well, three, as you haven’t had your birthday yet—that makes you—well, far too old you see.”
Cyrus continued to step towards her, merely nodding his head slowly as she spoke, the most wicked look in his eyes.
“And number two, there’s the problem of my being a subject of gossip were I to marry you. Although, I’ve never cared so much what people say about me. So that brings me to the third problem. You are likely to leave me a widow again, at too young an age. Never mind the fact that I may die first, or you may live a long life with me.”
Olivia felt the wall at her back as Cyrus had backed her up into a corner. His face was mere inches away. She shrugged, her voice barely a whisper now, “So you see, it appears it won’t work after all.” The look in Cyrus’s eyes made her stomach somersault and she swallowed.
“You wicked woman.” His voice was ragged. He then bent his head and kissed her as if claiming her for his own.
~
The next morning, Cyrus found himself standing next to a parson in his drawing room. He’d applied the day after Olivia had awoken from her injuries for a special license to wed her as soon as possible. If she accepted, of course.
And now, here he was. He felt uncharacteristically nervous as he waited for his bride to appear. He turned to Josef and Lord Brighton who stood by him, hoping to distract himself.
“Women. They make you wait and wait, but it is always worth it.” Lord Brighton smiled.
Cyrus chuckled, beginning to relax a little, “Yes, it will be worth it, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
Josef tugged on Cyrus’s coat sleeve then and Cyrus looked down at him, “Yes, Josef?” Josef tugged again and Cyrus took the cue to kneel down beside him. “What is it?”
“I’m so happy you are marrying Mutter. I always knew you should! But I don’t know what you want me to call you now.”
Cyrus put a hand on Josef’s shoulder, “Josef, I could never replace your own father, nor do I want to. He will always be a part of you, but know that I will still love you as my own son. So, I shall let you decide. Whatever you wish to call me is fine with me.”
Josef beamed, “Well, I had a Vater. What about Papa? You will be my English Papa.”
Cyrus’s own heart squeezed as he squeezed Josef’s shoulder, it sounded perfect. He would get to be a father after all. His voice was thick with emotion, “I would like that Josef, very much.”
“Ahem.”
At the sound of a throat clearing, Cyrus looked up to see Charles, Cook, William, and a handful of other servants who had been with him for years enter the room. They were followed by Elizabeth who beamed at Cyrus and then went to stand by where Olivia would soon join him. Cyrus stood.
“Your Grace, may I present your bride.” Charles bowed and stepped aside.
Cyrus gulped.
~
She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Walking toward him, Olivia wore the white day dress with green embroidery she’d worn the first time he’d kissed her. Her auburn curls were falling about her face and she held a small bouquet of white baby’s breath. Her cheeks held that faint blush he so loved, and in those eyes, her love for him shined clear and bright. Once she reached his side, he forced himself to turn away and face the parson as the ceremony began.
Olivia couldn’t believe she was here, marrying Cyrus. She glanced to her right as the parson spoke to make sure it was really him. Goodness gracious, he was handsome. His black and gray-streaked hair was tied back and his black coat and breeches hugged his form perfectly. The sudden realization that she would later see what was under those items brought a hot flush to her cheeks and she turned back to the parson—she needed to focus on her wedding.
The parson went through Olivia’s vows and she gave a heartfelt answer. When it was Cyrus’s turn, she saw the earnestness in his eyes as the parson read, “…so long as ye both shall live?” His deep voice vibrated through her as he firmly said, “I shall.”
Before Olivia knew it, it was over, and after
too brief a kiss she found herself and Cyrus surrounded by everyone extending congratulations, hugs, and handshakes. Elizabeth had enough tears for them all.
A special wedding breakfast had been prepared and they all ventured to the dining room. Servants alike were invited to join them for a special toast towards the end and they spent quite a while in wonderful company of one other.
Olivia couldn’t remember feeling happier than at this moment. A lot had taken place to get to this point, but they were here now and that’s all that mattered.
“Mutter?” Olivia saw Josef was pulling on her skirts. She knelt to embrace him in a hug. “Lord Brighton says I can’t come here for two whole weeks! But I wanted you to know not to worry about me because they are taking me to see the coast!” Apparently the whole room had heard him as laughter broke out. Other than from Charles of course. Although Cyrus would swear he heard the man chuckle.
Olivia and Cyrus had decided not to take an extended honeymoon, but would remain here and take Josef with them to the Continent later—as a family. At Elizabeth’s insistence, Josef would stay with them for two weeks to give her and Cyrus time alone—and it appeared she needn’t worry about Josef.
Cyrus, however grateful for his guests, found that he now could not wait for them to leave. He took the quip from Josef as his opportunity and strode over to Olivia. Clearing his throat, he said, “On that note, I believe I shall claim my bride.”
Olivia flushed at his public declaration.
“I thank you all for coming and for the part you played in making this day happen. Please, stay as long as you’d like, but I, for one, cannot stay a minute longer!”
Laughter erupted again and Olivia’s face burned as if on fire as Cyrus grabbed her hand, again half-running, half-dragging her from the room. Reaching the stairs, he whisked her up into his arms and ran up them, carrying her the entire way. He ran past her old room and turned a corner down a part of the hall she’d never seen before.
Stopping in front of a door—his room, their room—he kicked it open and rushed inside before pausing.