A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4) (4 page)

She blinked at him, her wide dark eyes clouding with confusion. Finally, she admitted, “I have no idea what to make of this. Or you. I simply do not understand at all. You say I am not plain, and yet you say it almost as if it is an accusation, that because you do not find me so, I have wronged you in some way! And then you kiss me as if—as if…” She trailed off, clearly unable to provide further insight.

“As if I intend to consummate our union?” he provided.

“Yes!” she snapped. “What am I supposed to do, my lord? How should I respond in this situation where I am both desired and reviled?”

“You are not reviled. Not in the least. But I am not free to be the kind of husband you deserve. Fate has certainly played a cruel joke on me… Go back to bed, Olympia. If you hear any more noises in the night, know that they are harmless to you, but this house is not. It is unsafe to wander around in the dark.”

She stared at him for a moment, clearly confused by his behavior before retreating once more to the safety of his chamber. He listened to the door close, but she did not lock it. She should have, he thought. If she had any notion of the nature of his thoughts, or of just how deeply that single kiss had stirred him, she would have run from him. She would have bolted and barricaded the door.

The temptation of her was too much. The servants would have her chamber readied on the morrow. A few walls between them would not be nearly enough for his peace of mind.

In another life, he thought bitterly, she was just the type of woman who would have drawn him. Strong minded and strong in her convictions, but with a sense of calm about her that soothed him, that offered the promise of a peaceful and happy life. But it wasn't simply her demeanor that appealed to him. Nor was it just her intelligence, which she appeared to have in abundance. Olympia possessed a quiet beauty and a figure that invoked every carnal instinct within him.

A wife, children, a happy and peaceful home. Those were the things a man expected to have in life, the things that he strived for. But the promise of those things had long been gone from his life. There was no hope of keeping his distance, but it was imperative that he continually remind himself why theirs could never be the marriage he'd envisioned as a young man, when hope still had a place in his life.

The sound of low, keening wails interrupted his lustful thoughts and prompted another curse. The latest potions were not working. She was growing more restless by the day, but the nights were infinitely worse. There would be more long days spent in the conservatory, studying the many treatises on herbs and plants and mixing one concoction after another. He would have to talk to Mrs. Webster and see what could be done in the meantime.

Griffin glanced once more at the door to his chamber and cursed. He grabbed the candelabra from the table and left via the servants’ entrance. Traversing the narrow stairs, he headed for the conservatory and his studies. Work would be the only reprieve he’d have from his thoughts and foolish dreams.

I
t had been
two days since Olympia had arrived at Darkwood Hall and those two days had been rife with misery. Restricted to her bed the first day because of her ankle and because she wished to avoid further conflict with either the housekeeper or Lord Darke, she was now no longer able or willing to hide in her room. There was a pall hanging over the house, a tension that seemed to fill every nook and cranny of what should have been a grand estate but instead seemed a dark and dreary place.

The nights were the worst, Olympia reflected. The strange cries and moans that seemed to fill the upper floors of the house were haunting. Such pain and misery was impossible to ignore, and yet ignore it she did because it had been made quite clear to that to do otherwise would have severe repercussions. Her position was too tenuous by far to court the ire of either her new husband or his dragon of a housekeeper.

The better part of the night had been spent lying awake in her bed with a pillow pressed to her ears as she tried to block out those awful sounds. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason sleep had eluded her. She was keenly aware of her husband lying in his bed in the room next to hers. After the charged exchange in his dressing room on her first night there, she’d been unable to think of anything else. Lies, kisses, and confrontation — all followed by complete avoidance. Would nothing ever be simple between them, she wondered?

Collins brushed her hair, clucking her tongue over the snarls in it. “I wish I could have braided it last night, m’lady. It wouldn’t have these nasty snarls in it now. You’ve a head of hair to be the envy of any woman, and a poor maid to help you care for it.”

“You’re doing a fine job, Collins… but if you wish to return to being a kitchen maid—.”

“No, m’lady!” the young woman protested. “A position like this one is something I never dreamed of. I’ll do better! I promise, I will!”

“I’m not dismissing you, Collins. Only offering that if it causes you too much distress, you may take another position in the house that you feel suits you better… I prefer simpler hairstyles,” Olympia stated firmly.

Collins said nothing else, but her lips trembled slightly as she gave a sharp nod and returned to her task. When at last her hair was combed out and tied back in a simple ribbon, Olympia rose from her dressing table and looked around for her shawl. Darkwood Hall was drafty and damp, but it wasn’t that which left her cold and shivering.

He’d lied to about what she’d heard. Those sounds she’d heard had not been the wind. They’d been, not human exactly, but close enough. No animal could have made such sounds, but if it had indeed been a woman that Olympia heard in the night, she was broken. Fractured beyond anything Olympia could ken. That sound haunted her. It wasn’t something she was sure she’d ever forget, but it was something that she never wanted to hear again. Had he lied to protect himself, to hide his own misdeeds? It was an option she could not overlook. It also made the ease with which she’d all but forgotten herself in his arms even more alarming.

“You don’t seem quite right this morning, my lady. Was his lordship not kind to you?”

“His lordship has been cordial, Collins. But we’ve barely spoken to one another given my illness yesterday,” Olympia evaded. It wasn’t entirely a lie, she reasoned.

The maid bobbed her head as she retrieved Olympia’s shawl from the wardrobe. In taking the girl on as a maid, she’d had to ask for Mr. Swindon’s approval. He’d granted on the condition that he interviewed the girl to be certain she was a suitable employee for the Viscount.

“Collins, did Mr. Swindon say anything to you about his lordship when he agreed to hire you?” she asked.

“No, m’lady. He said nothing to me beyond asking about where I’d been employed past and if my current employers were satisfied with me… I had to lie to him a bit, m’lady. Is it a bad thing, I’ve done?”

Olympia’s stomach pitched at the reminder. “No, Collins. And prior to that evening, your work had been most satisfactory to my aunt and uncle… as satisfying as anything else was to them, at any rate. They are both horribly dissatisfied people in general.”

Collins clutched the shawl in her hands, her eyes wide and tears threatening. “You aunt to be sure still is… but your uncle, I doubt he’s much dissatisfied with anything these days.”

Olympia said nothing further. A part of her wanted to offer reassurances, to say that everything would be fine. But she neither knew nor believed it and thus couldn’t force herself to utter the words.

Collins sighed and began straightening Olympia’s meager wardrobe. Eventually it would have to be seen to, but for the time being she had enough clothing of suitable quality that she would not embarrass her husband should they have callers.

As Collins straightened the shawl over Olympia’s shoulder, she added, “I was told nothing about his lordship, but was told to be cautious in this house… was warned of strange goings on.”

Olympia shivered at that, naturally relating to the idea of strange goings on to the wailing she’d heard the previous night. “Did he say what sort of strange goings on?”

“No, m’lady. Just warned me to be careful and not to be wandering about inside the house or out… My grandmother was from these parts. She told tale of beasties here. Giant hounds what could rip a man apart. I’ll not be traipsing about the countryside alone.”

Olympia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really, and you didn’t think to warn me of that before I left the carriage alone yesterday to go wandering around the countryside? Did you not think that would be a pertinent warning then?”

Collins looked at the floor. “I never believed her, m’lady. Just tall tales is all. And I reckoned you’d be brave enough to face down anything.”

There was no point in being angry at the girl and no point in rehashing things that were already said and done. “I am going down to breakfast.”

Once in the corridor, Olympia did not head down the hallway toward the main staircase, but instead went in the opposite direction. At the end of the hall, it split abruptly, with narrower hallways going off to the right and to the left. As she was deciding which way to go, a door at the end of the left corridor opened and Mrs. Webster appeared. The woman stopped abruptly.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice brusque and clearly perturbed.

The woman’s tone was sharp and the fact that she did not use Olympia’s title indicated just how little regard she had for her as the new lady of the house. Telling the terrifying housekeeper that she was searching for the source of the cries she’d heard in the night was clearly not an option. So, Olympia lied. “I’m quite lost, I fear. I must have turned the wrong way when I left my chamber.”

“Then might I suggest you turn around and go the other direction,” the housekeeper snapped.

“What is through that door?” Olympia persisted.

“That wing of the house is closed, madam.”

“Really? Why were you coming and going from it then?” she demanded. She would have a straight answer from the woman.

The housekeeper’s jaw tensed and her already pinched face became positively hollowed by it. “Inventory, my lady. The rooms are closed off because they are never used, but there are still many valuable objects. It is my duty to ensure that no one in this house abuses his lordship’s trust!”

It was a pat answer, one that had the woman not been so thoroughly contemptuous of his lordship and herself that Olympia might have been able to believe. Clearly, Mrs. Webster had little use for either of them.

“And is this something you do routinely?” she asked.

The woman bristled further. “Would you like an accounting of how I spend the hours of my day, then?”

“No, Mrs. Webster. But if I am to be mistress of this household, the running of it should be familiar to me. Don’t you agree?” Olympia felt a mild victory there, for she’d left the woman with no other option but to agree with her. To do otherwise would clearly see her fired.

The thrill of victory was short-lived. Mrs. Webster smiled coolly, a mocking expression. “You will never run this house, my lady. As every Viscountess Darke before you, your position here will be purely ornamental.
I
run this house. Just as my mother did and my grandmother before her. If you feel so inclined, ask his lordship. He will tell you precisely how secure my position is here and precisely how little you will be involved with the day to day routine of Darkwood Hall.”

She’d never had a servant speak to her so boldly in her life. Olympia was livid. “You overstep, Mrs. Webster!”

The woman moved closer, and while she was thin, she towered over Olympia. As she leaned in, her voice dropped to no more than a whisper, but there was no mistaking the malice in it. “No, madam.
You
have overstepped. A new bride… but not yet a wife. I know where his lordship slept last night. I also know he never intends to make you his wife in the true sense of the word. Your place here is precarious at best. I would not make sweeping demands were I you.”

Olympia said nothing. In truth there was no response for that. The housekeeper had said nothing that was untrue, though how she’d gleaned such information was a mystery. It was clear that the woman was ruthless enough to use it to her advantage, however. Without the protection of her station and with her tenuous position in the house, Olympia was left with little recourse. A sinking feeling settled into her stomach. Things were far more wrong at Darkwood than she had realized.

***

Griffin rubbed his eyes. He was beyond tired. Spending half the night in the conservatory and another portion of it in the small room he’d converted into a laboratory, exhaustion was quickly claiming him. But exhaustion would be the only possible inducement for sleep. Even then, he was well aware that he would likely be plagued with dreams of her.

His wife was not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and yet, he’d never felt such an instantaneous desire for any woman. Without even attempting to do so, she’d inflamed him to the point of idiocy.

It didn’t help that he’d been isolated from society for a very long time because of his situation. It had been years since he’d been in the company of a woman that was neither relative nor employee. To now find himself in such close proximity to a woman that he found immensely attractive but that also, in the legal sense, had every right to desire, was a particular kind of torment.

Picking up the small vial that contained what he could only hope would be a solution, Griffin tucked it into his hand before making his way to the breakfast room. He would give the new potion to Mrs. Webster. It was too late to use it for the morning, but he’d ask her to substitute it in the afternoon. Perhaps it would allow for a quieter evening, one that wouldn’t send his new bride in search of answers.

There were decisions to be made. Did he continue the farce of a marriage or did he instruct Swindon to being the process of annulment? He’d given up any hope of maintaining a platonic relationship, a marriage in name only. He’d known from the very moment he set eyes on Olympia that would be impossible, but he had not foreseen how quickly his will would succumb to temptation. If she was to remain untouched, she would have to leave Darkwood Hall immediately and forever.

Entering the small dining room that was traditionally reserved for breakfast, but that he’d taken to using for all of his meals, he stopped short inside the door. Olympia was already there. The cascade of dark hair falling over her shoulders, hanging almost to her waist, fueled a dozen fantasies as he envisioned it spread out over the pillow, tangled about them as he took her, or wrapped in his fist as her mouth moved on him. They were fantasies, he reminded himself, and nothing more. What he wanted from her and what he could have were entirely different things.

She turned, as if sensing his perusal, and offered a cordial smile and a murmured ‘good morning’ as she took her seat. With her hair down and in a simple braid she looked young enough to make his thoughts even more shameful, yet that did nothing to stop them. The feeling of her body pressed against him, of the sweetness of her lips beneath his own, were still ever present in his mind. Even now, taking in the porcelain perfection of her skin, the soft curves of her face and the temptation of her full lips, he was hard pressed not to give in to his more base desires. The longing, the desire he felt for her, was instantaneous. It roared to life with the ferocity and speed of an inferno.

At his lack of response to her greeting, she simply smiled brighter and carried the burden of conversation by asking softly, “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I deserve,” he replied evasively as he moved to the sideboard to fill a plate. He needed space between them, distance. And he needed to not be facing her when the evidence of her effect on him was clearly visible.

“I am glad to have a moment to speak with you,” she said.

“Oh? Do I need to be scolded for something else? Taken to task for my lack of morals or accused of some other perfidy?” he asked. While his tone was conversational, the words held bite.

She ignored that. “We are in an unusual situation, my lord. You needed a bride, and I needed to establish a home for myself where I would not be dependent on the charity of my relatives. Regardless of anything else that has occurred between us or our perceptions of one another, those circumstances have not changed.”

Griffin had already surmised that he would not be able to annul the marriage. Legally, it was within his right as it had not been consummated. But his response to the mere suggestion was visceral. She belonged to him already, whether either of them wished to admit it. Still, he allowed her to make her case. “That is true enough,” he agreed.

“My lord, my suggestion is that we reside here together for one month. If at that time, you still wish to send me away, then do so as your wife. We can live separately if you desire and my needs are quite modest.”

“I should remain married to you, set you up in your own home, and leave you to your own devices,” he surmised.

She flushed but her jaw hardened with determination as she continued. “Only if it is your wish, my lord. I will be quite content to remain here at Darkwood Hall.”