Lady Olivia's Undoing (2 page)

Olivia could not bear to think of John not
returning. How could she live without him? She rolled over on her
side with her back to him. He flung his arm around her waist, and
snuggled closer to her. His breath fanned her shoulder.

She could not lose him. She would go to
Whitehall in the morning, find out who was responsible for this
foolish order, and demand it be rescinded. She was, after all,
Olivia Leighton, Duchess of Caymore. As much as she had come to
despise it at times, her title could be useful.

The bed was cold. Olivia reached for John. He
wasn’t there. She fumbled for the candle and the matchbox on the
table beside her bed. Securing the flame behind the glass, she
glanced at the small clock. Half four. Where was John? It wasn’t
like him to leave her so early. The thought he had already left for
Spain brought her wide-awake.

Olivia pushed the covers off and found her
discarded robe on the chair. John’s clothing was gone. She prodded
the fire, added more wood, and stared into the embers as they
licked the bark on the log and then caught. Olivia rubbed her hands
against a ghostly chill.

Footsteps thudded behind the wall. Olivia’s
heart beat an unnatural rhythm.

The latch clicked and John stepped out from
behind the secret panel near the armoire.

“Where were you?” Olivia asked.

“Downstairs.” John’s face twisted. “Dearest,
word has come from William.”

“What is it?” They had been waiting anxiously
for weeks to hear from Will and Penny about the new baby. John’s
expression told her it was not good news. She held her breath.

“I’m sorry, Olivia. The baby did not
survive.”

Olivia sank into a chair. “No. That cannot
be. The doctor said she would be well. What happened?” Her heart
hammered inside her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

“I do not know. The rider only related that
Penny’s baby, a boy, was stillborn and that Penny and William are
on their way home.”

“When did it happen?” Olivia had known
something was wrong when she hadn’t heard from Penny, or Penny’s
mother, Honoria, since Hallowmas. An answer to her letters had
never been returned. Olivia hoped that the new baby had taken up
everyone’s time. However, as the weeks passed silently, Olivia
couldn’t bring herself to write again. She daren’t think about the
alternative.

“Six weeks or almost. The rider related Penny
took to her bed and that William has been beside himself with
worry. It seems he finally convinced her to come home.”

“When do they arrive?” Olivia glanced at the
clock again.

“Today.” He handed her a letter. “Tis from
William.”

Olivia cracked the wax.

Dearest Lady O –

It is with heavy heart that I write to tell
you we have lost our most precious gift. The baby, whom we named
Fitzhugh, is with God. Penny still grieves and my mother-in-law
suggested we come home to Caymore. She said you would know how to
help Penny. I pray with all my heart, you will know what to do to
bring my lovely wife back to me.

Will

Olivia crumpled the paper and threw it in the
fire. Oh, God. Her dearest Penny.

“What does he say?” John asked.

Olivia glanced at the rug under John’s feet.
“Penny is not well. As can be expected. They named the baby
Fitzhugh.” Olivia choked on a sob. “Oh, John, what shall we
do?”

John knelt at her feet and took her hands in
his. “Dearest, we will love them as we always have done. In time,
though one can never forget, their hearts will heal and a new baby
will take his place.”

“But what if that does not happen? What if
there is no other?” She squeezed his hands tight, as if that would
take away her pain. Throughout her marriage, Olivia had been
barren. Penny’s baby, as the heir presumptive to the Caymore title,
would have been the one Olivia had never had. But now…

“Livvy, you cannot think such things. You are
tired, and need to return to bed and sleep until you are rested. It
will do you no good to be in a state when they arrive. William
needs you to be strong for Penny. He needs you to help her.”

“I could not sleep.” Olivia stood and stared
blankly at the fire. The baby was dead.

“Dearest, you must. Come now, back into bed.
I will make you tea with a little brandy. It will help you
relax.”

“No, John, no brandy. Thank you, though.” She
leaned into him for support as he helped her beneath the covers.
Leaning against her pillows, she asked, “Will you not join me?”

“I cannot, dearest. I must start the day.
There is much to prepare before I leave.”

“Oh, John, you cannot possibly go now. What
shall I do without you? What will Penny do? You know how much she
cares for you. She will take comfort knowing you are here for her.
And William will need a strong shoulder as well. He looks upon you
as a father.”

“I will speak with William in all due course.
And Penny has her family.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “You
must get some sleep. Promise me you will try.”

He walked to the secret panel and disappeared
behind the wall.

Once the door closed, Olivia lay on her
pillows and tried to control the swirling thoughts clouding her
usual clear thinking. John was leaving. Penny was suffering. The
baby was dead. The Prince would have to be told about the heir.
What would happen to her now?

Ten years had passed since Fitzhugh’s death.
For ten years Olivia had stalled the proceedings for the Caymore
title to be returned to the Crown. For ten years she had lied about
the solicitors searching for another heir. Convincing Prince George
to give the title to William had bought her a little more time.
That William would hold it in name only, in reserve for
his
heir, would allow her to live the life Fuzzy had wanted for
her.

But now the baby was dead. There was no heir.
How long would it be before someone else came calling for the
title? She would have to convince Penny to try to become pregnant
again soon. The sooner the better. But how could she? Penny must be
inconsolable. Olivia choked back a sob. John was right. The only
thing she could do was love Penny as she always had done. The same
way Penny helped her over Fitzhugh’s death. When Penny was ready,
she and William would conceive another child, and the title would
be secured.

Olivia felt a cold chill slide over her. When
Olivia had turned thirty, Fuzzy had a tryst with one of the
upstairs maids. After she had the child, Fuzzy sent her off to
America where the child would never know his father. The woman died
shortly after arriving in Boston, and the boy was sent to boarding
school. Fuzzy had always been generous and sent a monthly sum. When
he graduated from university, he lived in a fine house, and had all
the trappings of a well-lived life.

As their childless marriage wore on, Fuzzy
asked Olivia if she would raise him as her own. He would adopt the
lad and make a provision in his estate. Olivia told him no. How
would that make her look to the rest of Society – having his
by-blow in the house? Fitzhugh never mentioned it again. And after
all these years, she had worked too hard to let anyone take
Caymore, and all that entailed, away from her. She would have to
speak to the Prince.

Olivia finally slept, just as the sun came
up. Jennings, Olivia’s maid, did not come at her usual time of
eight, and when Olivia woke at almost ten o’clock she pulled the
bell ferociously.

“Where have you been?” Olivia demanded when
Jennings entered the room. “Why did you let me oversleep? I have
many things to attend today, Jennings. What were you thinking?”
Olivia opened various dresser drawers and pulled out stockings and
undergarments.

“Mr. Quiggins asked that you be allowed to
rest as long as possible,” Olivia’s personal maid said quietly.
Jennings opened the armoire and took out a pale blue morning gown.
“Now, your tea and cake will be up directly. Should you like a
bath? I think that would soothe your already overset nerves.”

Olivia sat in her chair by the window, calmed
by her faithful servant. Of course, John had already informed
Jennings of the baby. However, Jennings would never let on. “Yes,
Jennings. A bath would be most welcome.” She made a mental list of
the cards she must send and appointments to make.

“Very good, Your Grace.” Jennings walked into
the water closet. Spigots turned and water splashed into the huge
tub. Jennings returned to the bedroom just as a small knock sounded
on the door. She answered it, took the tray from the girl, and gave
her instructions. Jennings placed the tray on the table in front of
Olivia.

“Here now, sit and have a cup while the tub
fills, Your Grace. I told Nella to have Cook cut up some cucumber
for your eyes. If I do say so, I have never seen you look so
dreadful of a morning.”

Olivia stared at her companion of more than
thirty years. “Do I look that hideous?”

“Oh, yes. Worse than the morning after the
Huntington party.”

Olivia put her head in her hands. “Dear God,
perhaps you should
fill
the tub with cucumber then.”

“Would you like to talk about what’s
troubling you, Your Grace?”

John was leaving and might never return. The
baby was dead. Olivia felt tears creep into the corners of her
eyes. “There was a letter come very early this morning. Penny’s
baby was stillborn.”

“Oh, no, Your Grace. I am so very sorry.”

“Thank you, dearest. Yes, it is very sad.
Penny and William are on their way home to Caymore.” She glanced at
the clock. “I should think they will arrive by luncheon if the
roads are clear.”

“Well, then,” Jennings said. “Let us get you
bathed and dressed. You need to be refreshed when Lady Penny
arrives.”

Downstairs in the yellow salon, Olivia fussed
with the cards on the table, her thoughts centered on the
conversation she would have with Prince George. He could not refuse
to give Penny another chance to deliver a healthy heir. Olivia’s
friendship with the King and Queen had waned since dear Fuzzy’s
death, but she and the Prince had kept up a small friendship. He
was always solicitous whenever he saw her. Olivia looked upon
George as a wayward cousin of sorts. He may not be one of her
favorite people, but he would do what was right for her family.

John stepped into the room and closed the
door. “What are you doing?”

“Settling my appointments for the day.”
Olivia looked at him and fresh tears erupted. He would be gone
soon.

“Olivia, please not again,” he whispered. He
crossed the room and took her hand. “Please, dearest. I cannot bear
to see you weep.”

Olivia wiped a stray tear. “Forgive me, John,
but there is nothing for it. I had no control over the baby, but I
will not let you go willingly.”

“I do not mean to go willingly, but I must go
and there is nothing to be done about it.”

“Yes, there is. I mean to speak to the
Secretary this afternoon.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot.”

Olivia stared at him. His tone suggested
there was more to his going than just an order from the Foreign
Office. “What is it you are not telling me?”

“Nothing. I have told you all that I
know.”

“Then why do you think he will not listen to
me when I tell him I do not wish for you to go? He could send
Greenleigh or any number of younger men.”

John pivoted on his heel and walked to the
door. His hand on the latch, he turned and faced her. “I do not
wish for you to say anything to the Secretary, Olivia. I hate to
leave you, more than you may ever know, but I am going, whether you
sanction it or not and nothing you can do or say will stop me.” He
stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Olivia sank into her favorite chair. John,
seemingly did not want to go to Spain, yet did not, would not
refuse the mission. There must be more to this expedition than he
let on. She would find out exactly what it was.

A knock on the door prompted Olivia to call,
“Yes?”

A footman brought a letter on a silver
salver.

“Thank you, Gerald,” Olivia said. She looked
at the script. Her cousin Constance. “Oh, she must be home from
America,” Olivia mumbled as she broke the wax.

She skimmed along the first two paragraphs…
“
Lovely time in America…dreadful voyage…miss London…renovations
to Hargrave House…
” And what was this? “
I hate to impose,
but with Hargrave House in such a state of disarray, is there any
way you could put us up until Twelfth Night? Reginald refuses to
spend the holidays in a hotel and I must agree. The girls are so
looking forward to seeing Penny again, and I long for genteel
company. The Americans were positively ghastly and I fear all the
rosewater in the world cannot eradicate the vile taste in my mouth.
Only your society will do, dear Olivia.
”

Just what Olivia needed on top of everything
else – company. Oh, the girls were no bother, they were lovely, and
would keep to their own schedules, and having been away from London
for so long, they would do nothing more than mark time with their
friends and shop. Perhaps they might even be good company for
Penny. Fresh faces and adventures to share. And Constance would not
be a nuisance as long as she kept her histrionics at bay. Constance
was a needy woman and desired a certain comfort level from those
around her. When it was not forthcoming, she took to her bed for
days.

No, it was Reginald Olivia worried about.
Olivia had never liked Reginald. Hard and unforgiving, even in his
youth, she had rebuffed his advances. Surprisingly, he asked for
her hand anyway and Olivia begged her father to refuse the match.
Reginald married her cousin, Constance, instead. It was at their
nuptials where she met Reginald’s uncle, Fitzhugh Leighton, the
Duke of Caymore.