The Forsaken Love of a Lord (12 page)

“I’m sorry.” Olivia’s lips twisted in a grin.

“Ah, yes. You look utterly heartbroken over the idea,” Maria teased.

“But I desperately need your help. I mean, what am I to do now? It’s not as if he could ask my parents to take me on a stroll, or even ask for a dance at a ball. It’s hopeless!”

“Well, he
could,
but I’m pretty sure the music would be drowned out by all the whispering that would ensue, and any stroll he’d take you on would be the center of all attention.” Maria rolled her eyes then reached out and patted her friend’s hand comfortingly. “I say… we wait.”

“Why? It will kill me to wait! I want to have a plan—“

“Then plan to wait. You see, from what I understand, Lord Langley is the one who wants nothing to do with your family… that is, till he decided he wanted you…” She winked.

Olivia felt herself blush.

“So in truth, he’s the only one who can fix this…” Maria’s tone grew soft, her expression concerned. “But I want you to protect your heart. We’re assuming much, based on one kiss, Olivia. As much as I don’t want to say it, he
might
not do anything…”

“I know… but…”

“But we hope he does,” Maria finished then sighed a grin, tipping her lips. “Langley… who would have thought?” She shook her head. “You’ll be the gossip of the century.”

“Or the fool.” Olivia felt her joy drain as doubt began to take seed in her heart.

“The greater the risk, the greater the reward,” Maria replied softly.

“Indeed. And I must say that Langley would be quite the reward.”

“Yes, yes he would.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

E
DWARD ROSE WITH THE
dawn; rather, he napped and was awakened by the sunshine pounding through the open study window and blinding him.

Not the kind of start one wants to a pivotal day.

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled and rose, blinking back the grit in his eyes and the stiff ache in his shoulders. After his conversation with Curtis, his mind had been spinning, so he had remained in his office, staring into the fire and planning.

At some point, he had fallen asleep, and, if the pain in his neck was any indication, it wasn’t in a comfortable position.

Edward called for his butler. Tea was necessary if he were to face the day. Hot, strong tea.

In large quantities.

“Yes, my lord?” His butler appeared and bowed as he asked in a detached tone, though his eyes widened slightly as he took in Edward’s disheveled appearance.

“Tea, if you please.” Edward twisted his neck, trying to stretch out the knot that was pulsating with a dull ache.

“Of course.” The butler raised an eyebrow but exited without further comment.

Edward left his study and ascended the stairs to his room, taking them two at a time. Today wasn’t a day to take things slow. No, today all hell would break loose, bringing a moment of truth he never thought he’d face. Or at least he’d avoided for a long time. But Olivia had to waltz into the equation and turn his life upside down.

If there were only a way to determine whether or not she’d appreciate his pursuit. It was a bloody wretched mess. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t reveal everything.

With a deep breath, Edward entered his bedroom and strode to his adjoining closet. The scent of cloves and starch from the ironing hung in the air, welcoming him with familiarity. As he walked to the end of the closet, his hands grew damp with the full awareness of what he was about to do.

Pausing, he stared at the small picture that hung on the wall, hiding something far more sinister than the rolling scene hinted. Why? Why was he doing this? After one night, after one dance with the girl, what had possessed him to take such a leap? It was insanity. Yet, there was more to the story.

To reveal the truth would be the sure way he’d set himself free. The contents of the safe behind the picture were a form of shackles, holding him down, weighing down his soul, reminding him of all that is painful in the world.

No more.

He didn’t want to be that man any more.

He wanted to be free, to live once more.

To have hope.

And as long as he kept everything under lock and key, he would be under lock and key as well.

The truth will set one free.

And hopefully, in the process, he’d gain even more than his freedom; he’d gain something far more precious.

The ability to love again.

Wasn’t that worth any price?

Didn’t that overwhelm any exacting price that bitterness had gleaned over the years?

It did.

So, before he could reconsider, he reached out and unhooked the picture from the wall. The small safe was tucked carefully inside.

It hadn’t been opened since he’d had it installed more than four years ago.

Carefully, he withdrew the key that was constantly around his neck, hanging over his heart.

Another perpetual reminder of his captivity to the past.

He unlocked it, lifted the latch and the door opened silently, displaying everything that was Edward’s salvation and curse.

Exhaling a pent-up breath, he reached out and withdrew the handkerchief.

The blood was no longer the bright crimson it had been that night, rather it was a muted brown, sickening in color and stiff. Next, Edward removed the book, its leather binding still soft, skillfully hiding the secrets within its pages.

For a moment, Edward released a humorless laugh. To think, all this work to protect two items of little monetary value.

Yet what they proved was staggering.

Tucking the book under his arm and placing the handkerchief in his pocket, Edward closed the safe, locked it, and held the key. It felt strange to walk away from the safe, to not feel the slight weight of the key around his neck, to be holding the very things he had allow to smother him with pain.

And oddly, he immediately felt lighter, as if a millstone had been removed from his neck.

With care, he placed the book on the bed and removed the handkerchief from his pocket and set it beside it.

As difficult as that was, the worst part was looming ahead.

Speaking with Marybelle’s parents.

And in truth, finally letting go.

But the hard part about letting go is that once something had been held in a vice grip for so long, it became one’s world.

In a way, the worship was mandatory because of its control.

Before he went that final step, he had to do something else.

Forgive Marybelle.

Forgive himself.

And remove the blame from God.

Only then would the peace he sought last.

And oh, how he wanted it to last.

It was his true and only hope.

Olivia paced about the library, not doing anything, rather, following Maria’s advice concerning Lord Langley. And it was driving her mad.

Bedlam mad.

“Dear, you’re going to wear the carpet. Will you please sit?” her mother chided.

“Of course,” Olivia responded automatically. After all, what else could she say?
No
Mother, I’m far
too
preoccupied with the kiss I shared with Lord
Langley.
By the way, do you think he meant anything by
such a display of affection,
or was I simply an opportunity he couldn’t miss?

Olivia snorted as she played the conversation in her head, also imagining her mother’s shocked reaction.

“Did you just snort?” her mother asked without humor.

“Er, apologies.” Olivia watched as her mother narrowed her eyes then returned her gaze to the embroidery before her.

“Perhaps you need a walk.”

“Yes! Yes.” Olivia amended, careful to tone down her excitement.

Her mother’s gaze shot up from her needlepoint at Olivia’s enthusiasm, but she didn’t comment on it; rather, she simply reminded her to take her maid.

Olivia left the library and quickly changed into a walking dress of pale blue. She summoned her maid, left the house, and immediately felt lighter, yet, like the clouds overhead, she felt a heaviness threatening to close in on her newfound freedom.

She ambled about the streets of Mayfair, passing several stately houses. It was too early for many of the
ton
to be out and about, which was perfectly acceptable to her. She wasn’t in the mood for company. As she made her way to Hyde Park, she meandered till she found a bench beside one of the tall oaks by the Grosvenor Gate. Her maid waited patiently nearby, studying the scenery.

The park was all but deserted by the gentry because of the early hour, which added a serenity to the wide expanse of land, not usually present with so many people assembling, all with the intention of being
seen.

Good Lord, London was a strange place.

Olivia doubted if she’d ever grow accustomed to the constant desire to be noticed. Granted, if one were to be noticed because of one’s kind nature or one’s friendliness, that was one thing. But to be noticed because one wore the season’s favorite shade of blue, or because one was walking with a particularly sought-after bachelor, it was all… vexing.

Thank heavens for Maria. Without her friendship, Olivia seriously questioned if she’d survive the season.

A gentleman entered the park through the gate and followed the paved path that followed along Aldford Street. Olivia tilted her head as she studied the gentleman, unable to place why his stride appeared familiar. He stopped suddenly and hung his head, running his fingers through his dark hair. He turned around.

Olivia gasped quietly.

It was Lord Langley!

He turned around, his back once again facing her, and he took a few more steps away. Then paused once again.

Just what was going on? Olivia felt her brow furrow in curiosity. Stealing a glance to her maid, she saw that the young woman was nearby, but not paying attention. So, seizing the opportunity, Olivia rose and began a quick pace to where Lord Langley stood, apparently debating with himself.

It was quite bold, but what was the saying?
Fortune favors the bold.

Well, hopefully that proverb would prove itself true!

She was certainly about to test it!

Taking a deep breath, Olivia felt her heart begin to pound as she drew closer. His shoulders were unbelievably broad, accentuated by his tan coat. His dark hair just brushed the white collar of his crisp shirt. The memory of her removing the mask, his soft hair tickling her fingers through the wretched gloves assaulted her, creating a heat that swirled around her belly. Gathering her courage, she found her voice.

“Lord Langley?”

He spun and faced her, his expression immediately shifting from pensive to delighted, then settling on confused.

“Miss Olivia.” He bowed and, taking her hand, he kissed the air above it.

Olivia felt gooseflesh tingle upon her skin as she savored the warm feeling of his hand grasping hers — the same hands that had so tenderly embraced her. As he rose from his bow, she searched his gaze.

Was he as affected as she?

His expression was unreadable, stoic almost, except that he seemed to be studying her with a similar intensity. His eyes were a stormy blue. They stole her breath, and she lost whatever rational thought had been present a moment before. Glancing down, she tried to recover.

“I trust you’ve had a pleasant morning?” He spoke politely, distant.

Olivia’s heart cinched at the detached tone, void of any warmth.

“Yes, my lord. Though I was surprised to find anyone out and about, given the early hour.” Olivia smiled her sweetest, most welcoming grin, hoping to at least gain some sort of reaction.

His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips for only a fraction of a second before he glanced away. “I must be off. I have an important errand to attend to. However…” He returned his gaze to her, his dark eyelashes framing his expression with a hint of mystery. “…I do hope that this day finds you well.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes slightly. It was an innocent-enough remark, yet there was something about his expression that made her wonder if there was some deeper, hidden meaning to which she wasn’t privy.

“You as well, my lord,” she replied.

His eyebrow rose just slightly, just enough to call forth her wits and remember just what she was doing. Immediately she felt foolish. What had she been thinking? With a fresh wave of humility, she spun on her heel and walked away, noticing her maid walking aggressively toward her, no doubt wanting to attend to her mistress, especially with a gentleman around.

Praise the good Lord, her maid wouldn’t know Lord Langley.

Because the most imprudent notion of all was that she’d approached him…

In daylight.

In a public park.

Where anyone and everyone could see them.

The scandal would be monumental.

Blast it all.

Yet she was driven by the intense desire to simply speak with him, be near him. Her girlish fantasies had matured into full-blown desire that had come alive when he had kissed her.

Of course, what is it that the very thing one wants is the one thing one cannot have?