Lady Olivia's Undoing (6 page)

“Olivia!”

She turned. Her uncle, the Duke of
Marlborough, wobbled on his cane toward her.

“Uncle.” Olivia planted a soft kiss on his
grizzled cheek.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“I am not feeling well,” Olivia said.
“Forgive me, Uncle, I cannot remain. Perhaps you will wait for an
invitation from Caymore House. I would be delighted to entertain
you for luncheon.”

He gazed at her with bloodshot eyes. “How are
you to find a husband if you keep shut up in your house all
day?”

“I am not shut up in my house. I attend my
charities, and church, I am always out.”

“Then why are you not married? A woman of
your station needs a man to stand beside her. Fitzhugh must be
rolling over in his grave.”

Olivia stifled a laugh. “Uncle, Fitzhugh left
me very well indeed. Why would I share that with anyone else?”

He cocked his head and smiled. “Still. You
are a beautiful woman. You should marry again. Gillyford asked
about you last night.”

“How lovely.” She looked him in the eye.
“Uncle, I will make my own choice for my future husband.”

“You are not getting any younger,” her uncle
said.

“Uncle.” Olivia pouted. “I am hardly
fifty.”

“You are six-and-fifty.” He banged his cane
on the floor. “Olivia, it has been ten years since Caymore died.
And whatever disagreement you and Gillyford had, I believe he has
forgiven you.”

Olivia stifled a groan. The footman
coughed.

“Uncle,” Olivia said. “It was so lovely to
see you again. I shall send the invitation for luncheon when
Constance and the girls are here. Yes? It shall be a very merry
party indeed. However, I must dash.” She kissed his cheek and ran
from the mansion.

In the carriage, Olivia snorted. Uncle was
insufferable. To think that she would marry Gillyford. A man who
would take everything she had and spend it on horses and gambling.
Absurd. Olivia hadn’t devoted her life to Fuzzy to lose it to some
lecherous old Marquess in his dotage, with spoiled children who
were waiting for the old man to die to get their hands on
her
money. She would rather give it all away than succumb to
that.

At Caymore House, John waited for her in the
hall.

“Why have you not gone up?” Olivia asked. The
hallway was dark; only one candle lit the front entry.

“I always wait for you, do I not?” He took
her coat.

Olivia shed her gloves and hat and left them
on the small table. “Yes, you do.” She took his arm as they walked
down the hall. “What did you do this afternoon? I’m sorry I was
such a bear earlier. Penny’s news and then her departure, not to
mention yours, Constance arriving, and hiring a new butler… my mind
is a whir.”

In the yellow salon, John escorted Olivia to
her chair, walked to the liquor tray, and poured each of them a
glass of brandy. He handed her a glass and sat across from her. “We
leave Saturday morning.”

“So soon?” Today was Tuesday. Olivia took a
sip of her drink.

“I told you by the end of the week.” John
leaned back in the chair.

“Yes, you did. I had hoped you would decide
not to go.”

“We’ve been round this, Liv.”

Olivia stared at his hands as they held his
glass. “Have you given any more thought to marrying me?”

John searched her face. “Yes, I have
actually.”

“And?”

“I still do not think it is a good idea.”

“I’m not talking about ideas, I’m talking
about marriage. Surely, you would rather be with me than return to
Spain, would you not? In the truest sense of the word?”

“Aye.” John raised his brow.

“Well, if we marry before you leave, you will
be assured of something to look forward to when you return.”

John stood. “Do you mean to tell me if I do
not marry you, then you will find someone else in my absence?” John
put his glass on the table and strode to the door.

“No, John.” She called after him. “For
heaven’s sake. No. That is not what I meant.” It was too late. He
was already gone.

When Olivia awoke the next morning, alone,
she felt horrible about what she said. But that was not what she
meant and if John couldn’t see that…well, she would have to smooth
the waters later. However, their little spat gave her an excuse to
leave the house.

She rang for Jennings, who helped her dress,
and then Olivia called for the carriage. She needed to clear her
head, to think about her future; miserable as it would be without
John.

During her second turn along Rotten Row, a
rider thundered up alongside the carriage window. He swept his hat
from his head in a mock bow. Henry! Olivia banged on the roof and
the horses slowed. Henry dismounted and a footman climbed off the
boot to open the carriage door as the other held his horse.

“Your Grace,” he said. “I would never have
imagined your partaking of a drive so early in the morning. Say you
were looking for me and make me the happiest man alive.” His eyes
crinkled in the corners as he teased her.

Olivia smiled. “Not especially, but now that
I have found you, there is something of import I must speak with
you about.”

Henry Wade, the Marquess of Dunbury, climbed
inside the small equipage. “I say, Olivia, the next time you wish
to have a clandestine meeting, do use the barouche.” His shins
raked the opposite seat. He gazed at Olivia. “Still as beautiful as
the day I met you.”

Olivia felt her face grow hot. “Henry, do not
be absurd. I’ve grown as faded and worn as an old blanket.”

“Not to me.” His smile threatened to bring
tears.

Thirty-seven years earlier, Henry Wade had
asked Olivia to run away with him before her marriage to Fitzhugh.
When she declined, Henry joined the Army. He never married. Henry
gained the marquisate after his brother’s death, as well as six
orphaned nieces of marriageable age. Every woman between six and
sixty swooned at his feet when he returned to London. Henry Wade,
Marquess of Dunbury was the most eligible bachelor Society had seen
in years.

Olivia had no idea Henry was on his way home
from the Army when she and Penny had fled to Wakefield-by-the-Sea.
By the time Olivia returned to London, she was in love with John
and Henry had lost his heart to her cousin, Catherine Churchill
Gantry. Olivia and Henry would never be able to live the life she
had once envisioned. But he would always remain a very dear
friend.

“Henry, you must tell me, why is John
Quiggins needed for this trip to Spain? Surely, there are other men
who can speak the language.”

Henry raised a brow. “Is that why you wished
to see me?” He huffed. “Quiggins is a valuable asset with battle
field experience. Olivia, you cannot understand how much we need to
gain Madrid. It could end the war.”

Olivia stamped her foot against the carriage
floor. “Why does everyone think I cannot understand? Of course, I
understand how important Madrid is. My question is why do you need
to take Quiggins? He is practically an old man.” John was
six-and-fifty, Olivia and Henry’s age, and being as far from old as
either of them.

Henry cocked his head as he looked at her.
“There is more to this than you are saying, Olivia. What is so
important that Quiggins remain in London?”

Could she explain it to Henry? Would he
understand? He knew John’s post as her butler was a ruse. Could
Henry recognize and accept her and John’s life together, or treat
it as idle gossip, never taken seriously. She couldn’t be sure.

“There is nothing other than my affection for
him as part of my household. I should hate to see him hurt, or even
killed because of Arthur Wellesley’s foolishness.”

Henry took her hand. “Olivia, this is very
sweet of you to try to keep him from going, but Quiggins is honor
bound to serve.”

Olivia looked out the window. Tears formed in
the corners of her eyes. She cleared her throat. “Very well. But
promise me Henry, you will look after him. Do not allow anything to
happen to him.” She grabbed his hand. “You must promise me.”

Henry cocked his head again. “Of course,
Olivia, if it’s that important to you, I promise.”

“Do not say it so, Henry. You must mean it.
You must promise to watch over him. You must bring him back
alive.”

Henry patted her hand. “I promise I will
watch over him.”

“Thank you, Henry.” Olivia leaned back
against the seat.

Henry Wade climbed from Olivia’s carriage and
swept another courtly bow. “If you are out and about, you must
promise to save me at least one dance.”

“Of course, Henry. I look forward to it.”
Olivia wondered briefly over his request – it was rumored he and
Catherine were on the verge of marriage – but then she dismissed
it. Two old friends on the dance floor should not raise any
alarms.

As the footman closed the door, Olivia said,
“Let us return to Caymore now.” Olivia had a funny feeling in the
pit of her stomach.

At Caymore House, John met her at the door.
Luggage and assorted portmanteau’s lined the front hall. Voices
echoed in the hall from the yellow salon.

“Penny has come to her senses?” Olivia
asked.

John shook his head. “Your cousin has arrived
en familia
. Where were you so early?”

“I took a drive through the Park to clear my
muddled thoughts.” There was no reason to tell him she had seen
Henry. Olivia took off her coat and gloves and handed them to John.
“Would you mind fixing me a cup of tea?” She smiled and walked to
the salon.

“Cousin Olivia, how well you look,” Ariana,
the eldest of Constance’s two girls walked with a cane across the
room. “It is so good to see you again.” Ariana kissed Olivia on the
cheek. “Thank you so much for putting us up,” she whispered. “Do
forgive us for intruding.”

“Nonsense, dear girl. That is what family is
for.” Olivia turned and smiled at Constance. “How are you feeling?
Have you acquired your land legs back yet? How do you do, dearest?”
Olivia hugged Constance, perhaps a little tighter than she usually
did. She had missed her.

“I am very well,” Constance said, and sniffed
into a handkerchief. “And the girls are well you see, as is
Reginald.”

Olivia hadn’t noticed him lurking in the
corner and gave a slight start at the sight of him. “Reginald,
awfully lovely you to have you here.” Her gaze caught Arabella’s
across the room. “Bella, how tall you’ve grown. Must be six inches
since the last I saw you.” Olivia walked across the room and linked
her arm through Bella’s. She said, “I know you only just arrived,
but what say you to a ball? I have an invitation to Winsbarren’s
tonight and I thought to show you off. After a proper rest of
course.”

“Oh yes, Mama,” Bella said. “Let’s do go to
the ball. I long for a ball. Father, may we?”

“The trunks have not even been brought
upstairs,” Constance said. “How will we ever be ready in time?”

“It is eleven o’clock in the morning,
Constance,” Reginald said. “If you cannot be ready for a ball in
ten hours time, then I have married the wrong woman. If you will
excuse me ladies, I have several commissions to attend.”

He nodded once to Olivia, kissed his wife and
daughters, then left the room.

“He’s a very busy man,” Constance said.

Olivia smiled at the girls. “Let me find
someone,” she walked to the bell pull, “to help you sort through
the luggage and find your ball gowns. We’ll send them downstairs
for a quick press, have a nice luncheon, and then we shall all take
a good long nap.”

John stepped into the room.

“Quiggins, we are going to need several
footmen to transport this luggage upstairs. The girls are going to
sort it for their evening gowns. And ask Cook to put on extra bath
water.” She ushered Ariana and Arabella out the door. “If you
direct Quiggins, he will separate the bags and show you to your
rooms.” Olivia hurried the girls out, shut the door, and turned to
Constance. “How are you truly, darling?”

“I am very well,” Constance said. “However,
the trip was dreadful. I shall never sail again.” She leaned into
the back of the chair for support. “The bright spot I have not told
you is that Bella is engaged.”

“Engaged? To who? She is just a baby.”

“Ten-and-nine this past summer.” Constance
put her handkerchief to her nose and sniffed. “Stephen Summerville
is an American millionaire. Took one look at Bella and never
glanced at another. Truthfully, how could he? American girls are
so
vulgar.”

“I take it Ariana did not have her pick of
suitors.” Olivia asked. A fall off her pony when she was twelve had
left her with a disfigured leg. It did not bode well for her
chances in finding a husband.

“She says she is content for now. I think
that will change after Bella is married and has a child. Ariana
will see what Bella has and make up her mind and marry a gentle
young man.”

“Wishful thinking on your part.” Olivia
walked to the table, picked up a small piece of cake, and popped it
in her mouth. “What are you really doing here, Constance? And do
not tell me it is because of renovations to Hargrave House.”

“I hardly know. Reginald insisted we stay
here. He refused to remain in Cornwall. I thought, as the girls
did, we would spend Christmas at the seat. I have no idea why he
wishes to remain in Town.” She sat at the long table.

“Yes, especially here.” Olivia poured a cup
of tea and brought it over to Constance. She poured another for
herself and sat across from Constance. “You would think he would
stay away as my Boxing Day Ball is very near to date. An easy
excuse from Cornwall.”

“Olivia, I must say, I have never seen
Reginald so frightening.” Constance swirled the spoon in her
cup.

“What do you mean? Has he harmed you?” From
the very first moment she had met him forty years earlier, Olivia
did not trust Reginald. He had wanted to marry her, almost
relentlessly pursued her, but Olivia had seen something in Reginald
that she could not tolerate. Jealousy. Olivia could never marry a
man who would not trust her. Six months later, Reginald married
Constance. Reginald could never be jealous over Constance.
Constance would never stray.