The Blackmailed Bride (14 page)

T
wo days later, Olivia and Marcus were back in London. Nick was at the house, playing billiards with Marcus. Olivia had no desire to intrude on their gentlemen time, so she took Reverend Thomas’s lead, went out into the garden and began trimming the roses. She’d been there for what felt like hours when the marquess came out.

“I’m surprised your brother doesn’t employ a gardener for that.”

Lord Huntsford joined her beside the bushes and delicately held a bloom in his hand.

“Marcus does, I was only looking for something to keep me occupied,” she confessed, attacking a dead growth with a satisfying snip.

“Why don’t you go riding with me?” he asked. “If you’re bored, it’s probably more exciting than mauling innocent plants.”

The unexpected invitation made her pause. “Riding where?”

He smiled. “I’d prefer the country, but I’m willing to settle for Hyde Park.”

“I’ll have a groom saddle the horses while I change.” She gifted him with her most dazzling smile. Walking into the
house, she admitted to herself that agreeing was probably not the wisest thing she might have done. Finley was an ever-looming threat, of course, but she didn’t want to deprive herself of what promised to be an enjoyable afternoon.

No more than twenty minutes later, Olivia was in her dark-blue riding habit, mounting her horse in front of the house. Marcus had barely looked up from his papers when she bade him goodbye. Fleetingly, she wondered what “business” had occupied so much of his time and energies traveling back and forth from London to Westin Park over the last two weeks.

The marquess and Olivia rode through the streets to the park.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” Lord Huntsford said with a smile once they had passed the general traffic leading to the park.

“Thank you, they are.” She was glad Marcus had taken the announcement out of her hands.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

“Better.” And were it not for Finley looming somewhere on the near horizon, she’d feel perfect. “I have much to thank you for.”

“How so?”

“Were it not for you, I don’t think I would have gone looking for answers.”

Olivia, had she not been looking directly at him, would have thought the blush was merely a trick of the sunlight. “You give me too much credit,” he said. “I’m convinced you would have found your way eventually. But I’m happy to be a part of your journey.”

Olivia turned to look at him. He was gazing intently at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, embarrassed.

“I can’t seem not to,” he confessed. “You are quite a woman, Lady Olivia Fairfax.”

She laughed, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness. “I suppose that could be taken many different ways,” she joked.

“I mean it in the best sense possible. Surely you know I admire you greatly.”

Olivia lowered her head. Looking into his eyes wasn’t the best way to resist the pull he seemed to have over her.

“Care to walk for a moment?” he asked.

She could think of no good reason to refuse. He was off his steed first and came to stand beside her. His hands reached up, gripped her waist and lifted her effortlessly off the saddle. As he lowered her to the ground, she thought she was doing a fairly poor job of keeping a distance…of any kind. He stood a breath away from her.

When she braved an upward glance, the storm in his eyes transfixed her. Olivia regretted the lapse in self-control immediately.

“I thought you wished to walk,” she said, hating the way her words sounded a touch disappointed.

He smiled. The man saw too much for either of their good. He took her hand and for a moment did nothing with it…in fact, he held it in his own for so long the warmth of his hand seeped through her glove, and chills traveled up her arm. Finally, he wrapped their arms together.

“Will your horse follow us?” he asked.

Olivia couldn’t find the voice to answer the simple question, so she nodded.

They walked near the banks of the Serpentine, the small lake in Hyde Park. She was tempted to search for a stone to skip across the water—a talent she’d mastered during child hood.

“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” Nick asked. A
small smile played at the corners of his lips, and Olivia suppressed the memory of when he’d pressed those lips against hers.

What is happening to me?
She’d given her life back to God and yet was battling with improper thoughts of the most dangerous sort.

Her smile was apologetic. “I’m afraid I’m not having any revelations. I was only thinking about childhood pastimes.”

Lord Huntsford’s face became a blank mask at the mention of anyone’s youth.

“It’s really quite beautiful out here,” she said to change the subject.

“Very beautiful.” His eyes didn’t leave her face.

She flushed a deep crimson. The sudden burst of heat to her cheeks made her want to bury her head into his chest to hide the embarrassing evidence.

“May I ask you a question?” his voice rumbled.

“I suppose,” she said warily. She’d already made up her mind she was going to attempt to be completely honest with the marquess. Insomuch as she was able without compromising her own precarious situation.

“Do you enjoy spending time with me?” Nick’s expression was vulnerable.

“Yes.”

He smiled at her again, but this time it was…victorious. “Do you like me?”

From any other man, the question would have made her laugh. But the marquess’s face was so serious, so open, the moment wasn’t funny in the least. “You said you were only going to ask one question,” she reminded him in lieu of an answer.

“I was hoping you’d be generous.”

She debated.

“I would think the first would answer the second.” She
worked to slide her arm out from his, thinking she would only truly be comfortable when she wasn’t pressed so tightly against him.

She was sure he’d noticed the way she’d refused to give him the words he wanted to hear. And he only let her slide out her arm a little. He flipped his palm over so he was holding her hand. His fingers twined with hers, and her small hand fit perfectly in his larger one.

She wasn’t going to think about that.

“We should probably return home,” she said after several moments. Olivia had not removed her hand. Partly because she couldn’t think of a way to do so without being awkward. Partly because she liked the feel of it as much as he seemed to.

“Do you think Marcus will be afraid I’ve kidnapped you?”

“It’s just getting late.”

The sun was still high in the sky, and Olivia wished she were either more observant or better at making excuses.

He pulled on her hand and used his free hand to tilt her chin until she could look nowhere but at his face. Olivia recognized the look in his eyes. He was going to try to kiss her. She should stop him. Say no. Run as far away as she could manage before his lips descended on hers.

But her heart wanted something entirely different.

She nodded her acceptance.

Nick needed no other encouragement. He dropped her hand and framed her face with both of his. He had no gloves on, and Olivia was aware of the almost rough texture of his skin.

She didn’t think as he kissed her. Thinking would force her to halt this temporary madness. Her arms snaked around his shoulders as she leaned into him. Olivia lost all connection with her surroundings; they could have been standing in the middle of a crowded ballroom, for all the discretion she had.

Nick was the one to pull away from her, and instantly, her arms felt bereft.

“We really should be going,” she insisted to cover her awkwardness.

With his hands still on her face, he used his thumb and brushed it across her lips. “You know I care about you, don’t you?” he asked.

Olivia panicked. Was he preparing to make some sort of declaration? She couldn’t allow him to. “I think you are a very worthy individual yourself. And I like your aunt prodigiously well.”

Nick smiled as though he knew exactly what she was trying to do. He removed his hands, but Olivia felt as though they were still there, clasping her face.

“Aunt Henri has taken quite a liking to you. It seems to be a family trait,” Nick finally spoke, and she heard the laughter in his voice.

Enough
.

She could only ever dream about what would have happened if Nick had shown interest in her, but now, hearing him say words that sounded close to a declaration made her realize the unfairness of it all. She should not have one life dangled in front of her when she was being forced to accept another.

“I don’t think we should talk about this anymore,” she said firmly.

“Why are you so adverse to my compliments?” he asked her.

“There is no benefit to them.”

This statement puzzled Nick. “Do you not want me to be honest with you?”

The anguish in her heart grew.

“I don’t wish to fight with you,” she told him, or maybe—more precisely—
yelled
at him.

“I wasn’t aware we were arguing.”

“I can’t let you say those things to me. I can’t, even for a moment, let myself be flattered by your pretty words,” Olivia said.

They were still walking their horses down the path, but Nick was close enough to her to reach out a hand and lay it on the side of her face. “Look at me.”

She did so. Grudgingly.

“Why can’t you let me tell you how I feel? Does it bother you?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I can’t let you say those things.”

“You’re not making sense right now,” he told her.

Olivia’s temper, her anger and disgust with the injustice of the situation rolled forth in a large, consuming wave. “Don’t you think I know?” she nearly yelled. “How could I expect you to understand what I’m saying when no one knows?”

“Knows what?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“Nothing.” She’d said far more than what was safe already, and she’d not let him get another word out of her.

“I thought we were done with the secrets.” The look he gave her was more hurtful than any of his compliments could have been.

“I still have a few more,” she whispered. She looked away, down the path at the beautiful trees and flowers ahead. She pretended to study them to hide the fact that she didn’t want to look at his face, didn’t want to see the disappointment certain to be there.

“You can trust me.” The hand on her face moved to tilt her chin so she faced him again. “You have to believe me. I want to help you.”

“No one can help me with this.” The old Olivia was speaking again, and she hated she couldn’t reach out to Nick and let him assist her with the burden. But she’d have to trust God would see her through it. It may be her cross to bear in life, but she would never invite anyone into her misery.

“You’re going to have to trust someone eventually,” he told her as he withdrew his hand. “I was hoping you might let it be me.”

She turned to him, with her dashed hopes, fear and sadness in her eyes. “It can’t ever be you,” she whispered.

It can’t ever be you.

Fine,
Nick huffed silently, as he stabbed his dinner with his fork.

Just. Fine.

He’d thought things had changed with her. Thought he would be welcome in his attentions. Well, things
had
changed for her, but apparently not where he was concerned.

Now he knew why he’d remained single all these years. Who could ever figure women out anyway? They had to be the most confounding, most agitating creatures in existence.

When Marcus had told him the wonderful news during their game of billiards, which Nick had won soundly, Nick felt as though it were a sign from God.

Olivia had been continuously in his thoughts, invading his dreams, with memories of her popping up at the most unexpected times. The hindrance, he’d felt, had been her lack of a relationship with God.

But then…
then,
he was given the news that her faith was no longer an obstacle. No longer would his desire to have her in his life be something outside the will of God. No sooner had the words left Marcus’s mouth than Nick was trying to find a way to extricate himself from the game. He wanted to find her. To hug her. To kiss her. He could have slid down the staircase banister in his haste to get to her.

And then she’d agreed to accompany him on a ride. Something probably of small significance to anyone outside the situ
ation, but after all their ups and downs, Nick felt as though it was the last sign he’d needed.

But Olivia had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

Nick had promptly returned Olivia to her house and left to nurse his wounds at home. There would be other godly women to consider as a bride in the future.

So what if Olivia was perfect for him? If he liked her better than any woman he’d ever met? If life as her husband would never have been dull?

He’d find another. If he decided that’s what he wanted.

But who else did Olivia have in mind? Nick wasn’t foolish enough to believe she’d never marry. Marcus would want his sister to find someone who made her happy and to start a family of her own. Wouldn’t Olivia want that as well?

So if she didn’t marry him…not that he was proposing or anything of the sort, of course…then who?

Finley.

Nick should march over to the man’s house and demand Finley drop the charade with Olivia. Finley had already stripped a poor young woman of her future, and a child of his father, without the smallest tinge of remorse. And
this
was the man Olivia had been paying an inordinate amount of attention to? Nick couldn’t conceive it. While Olivia couldn’t know the details of what had transpired at Oxford, Marcus should have been able to convince her Finley was the last man she wanted to hang her hopes and dreams on.

Olivia, it would seem, was either more stubborn or foolish than anyone had realized.

Fine.
He fumed. He’d not waste his time panting after her like some lovesick pup. He’d not be the next unconscious body lifted from the floor of Marcus’s home. She could be his friend, and he’d not allow himself to consider anything more.