The Forsaken Love of a Lord (5 page)

Olivia simply bit back a grin.

“Hmm, let me see… this is my second season. And No. I did not receive any proposals last year.” She glanced down and picked at her dress.

Olivia furrowed her brow.

“But, I fully expect to be married by the end of the season. After all, my family is exceedingly… er,” She blushed. “That is to say, I’m sure to be sought after.” She glanced up, a forced smile in place as if speaking the words would fill her with confidence that it was indeed the truth.

Olivia tilted her head slightly. “I’m quite certain of it. You are a joy to be around. Any man would be blessed to have you as a wife,” Olivia encouraged. How many times had she longed for someone to encourage her? For a kind word to be spoken when she had felt her most insecure. When she recognized that expression in another, she’d not fail to do for them what had never been done for her.

Not if she could help it.

“What a kind thing to say. I— Thank you, Olivia.” Maria appeared honestly surprised.

“That’s what friends do. They encourage one another. Am I right?” Olivia spoke with a deliberate tone, though she was also questioning herself. That
was
what friends did, wasn’t it? She hadn’t had many friends.

Before the incident with Marybelle, no one had wanted to be around Olivia for fear she was similar in temperament to her sister. And then, after they left London, she’d been surrounded by servants or her parents, but no other girls her age. All that was left was her horse.

And as much as love loved the beast, he wasn’t a comparable companion. So she read, and what she gleaned from books she was now putting into action.

“Why, yes. I believe so, at least. Though to be honest, I haven’t seen much of it. Friendship, that is. It seems most women simply try to use the other as a sort of stair to push themselves higher,” Maria mumbled.

“My sister was like that,” Olivia replied.

“That must have been difficult.” Maria spoke sympathetically.

“Thankfully, she despised me, so she only spend the smallest amount of time necessary in my presence.” Olivia offered a reassuring grin to her friend.

“How kind of her.” Maria snorted.

“Are you attending the Rycourt Ball this evening?” Olivia asked suddenly. She had just watched a carriage pass by, reminding her of the plans for the evening.

“Yes, indeed I am! I already have my pale blue silk laid out and ready.” Maria clapped excitedly.

“Perfect! Blue would look lovely on you! I’ll be in attendance as well! We shall have to see one another there!”

“Agreed! Olivia, my dear new friend, I am so thankful to have met you today,” Maria spoke, standing.

“I am just as thankful. Goodbye, but not for too long!” Olivia winked.

“Not for too long.” Maria giggled and walked away.

Olivia exhaled a deep breath. London seemed infinitely more tolerable, knowing she had a friend.

A friend.

Something she hadn’t ever had before.

It was a day of wonders.

Perhaps the wonders would continue, and Lord Langley would attend the Rycourt Ball as well.

She could always hope, couldn’t she?

CHAPTER FOUR

“
A
RE YOU COMING?”
C
URTIS
asked Edward as he strode into the room, adjusting his shirtsleeves under his coal-black coat.

“Where?” Edward replied, studying his friend.

“Rycourt! Though now I’m wondering why I’m even asking. Of course, you’ll not attend.
They
are in residence.”

“They?” Edward drawled, though he knew perfectly well to whom Curtis was referring.

“Lord Pierce and his family. I do hope they attend. If I arrive early enough, I might be able to secure a waltz with your former sister-in-law. Angelic creature.” Curtis glanced heavenward.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m the idiot? I’m attending a ball, dancing with women —
beautiful
women — and you are…” He held out his hand, gesturing for Edward to complete the hanging sentence.

“Resting.”

“Like an old man.”

Edward growled.

“My word, you’ve become a miserable wretch to be around! And to think I was attending the ball with the intention of discovering Miss Olivia’s reasons for inquiring after you.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“I care not.”

“Liar.”

“I could call you out for that,” Edward replied, but without heat.

“Prove me wrong,” Curtis shot back, a daring gleam in his eye.

“No.”

“You’re a forsaken recluse and need to pull your head from your—“

“There’s not need to be so… dramatic.”

“Me? Dramatic?” Curtis gave a dry laugh. “Very well. I’ll cease being… dramatic. I knew asking you to attend was a lost cause, regardless. Some people are far too predictable,” Curtis replied coolly. Adjusting his cravat, he turned to leave, but paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Someday you’ll realize that you weren’t the one that died that day. She did. Not you.”

With that, he quit the room, abandoning Edward, alone with his dark thoughts.

The fire of Hades would have to lick his heels before he’d darken the door of any place that could turn into a haunting memory of betrayal. He was already haunted enough.

No more ghosts needed to find him.

He might have turned into exactly was Curtis said: a forsaken recluse. But at least he was alone.

Better alone than betrayed.

Olivia absently tugged on the hem of her glove as she glanced about the ballroom at the Rycourts’ residence. It was quite the crush, but the expansive ballroom provided ample room for the gentry to mill about without the oppressive atmosphere usually present. The air was cooler too. A breeze flowed through the room as the ballroom had two large open balconies on either end, allowing an unusual amount of airflow.

It was heavenly

Almost.

Because Olivia was quite sure that Lord Langley was not in attendance. His friend, Mr. Sheppard, had already asked for a dance — a waltz, no less — and though Olivia had kept tabs on him as he milled about the room, not once had she seen him with any gentleman who resembled Langley.

Pity.

“There you are!” Maria’s voice floated above the hum of conversation.

“Maria!” Olivia turned and grinned at her friend, who was indeed, resplendent in pale blue silk. “I knew you’d look lovely in blue.”

“Thank you! You are lovely as well! Have any gentlemen asked for a dance yet? I just arrived and directly sought you out!”

“Yes, Mr. Sheppard has asked for the dinner waltz.”

“Mr. Sheppard?” Maria’s eyes widened then narrowed. “Light brown hair, caramel-colored eyes, and cuts a dangerous figure in an evening kit?” she whispered softly, leaning forward.

“Er, yes?” Olivia answered, curious as to why her friend was reacting so.

“Hmm… quite the reputation, that one, though it’s curious as to why he’d seek you out when he normally prefers the company of a unattached widow.” She spoke softly to herself. As if realizing her words, her eyes widened, and she reached out and placed a softly gloved hand on Olivia’s wrist. “Forgive me! That sounded terrible. It’s just that, well, he’s quite a rake, and I was more concerned about why he’d actively seek your company out when…” She released Olivia’s wrist. “Oh bother. This isn’t coming out right.” She hung her head in a defeated manner.

“Mr. Sheppard is a rake? I quite gathered that. I think he’s more interested in why I was asking about his friend earlier, at a separate ball.”

“His friend?”

“Yes, Lord Langley.” Olivia felt a grin tug at her lips as she said his name.

“Lord Langley… was in attendance… at a ball?” Maria asked in a squeak.

“Yes, the Bridgeton rout, last week.”

“One week, one miserable week late to the season, and I miss
that
?” she asked.

“Yes. I take it Lord Langley doesn’t attend social functions often?”

Maria gave her a look of utter disbelief. “No. He does not attend ever. Ever, ever!” She spoke emphatically. “It’s said…“ She leaned forward. “…that after… well, your sister’s death, that he became such a recluse that even his valet hasn’t heard him utter even a word!”

“That is highly unlikely,” Olivia replied, her tone wry.

“I rather thought it seemed a bit extreme myself, but it
does
sound intriguing, does it not?” She shrugged. “So, you asked Mr. Sheppard about Lord Langley during your dance? What did he say?”

“He disclosed no information whatsoever, much to my utter disappointment. But I’ll not be dissuaded easily. I plan to ask him again, though in a less… direct… manner.” Olivia winked.

“Ah! Brilliant! What is your plan?”

“You shall have to wait and see.” Olivia hitched a shoulder.

“Very well.” She sighed dramatically then laughed. “Oh! Look! It’s the Duke of Clairmont! Do you see his wife? The Duchess?” Olivia lifted her fan and pointed it ever so discreetly toward an intent-looking gentleman with ebony hair and crystal-blue eyes. He was severely handsome, and the woman beside him was his utter antithesis. With light hair and green eyes, her entire demeanor was warm and approachable, whereas the duke was… not.

“Yes, I see them, though I’ve never met them,” Olivia replied.

“Then you don’t know their story?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Olivia turned to face her friend.

“The duke hired Carlotta, the now Duchess Clairmont, to be the governess of the three wards he became guardian of just a few years ago. It was a scandal for sure, but he being so highly ranked, few dare whisper a word against the duchess. She’s lovely, isn’t’ she? I’ve met her once. She is a jewel, so kind! And you see the way he looks at her? It was a love match for certain.” Maria nodded for emphasis.

Olivia turned back to watch the couple, and indeed, it was apparent that the duke only had eyes for his wife.

What would it be like to be the object of someone’s unyielding affection? An aching longing pinched her heart.

Glancing to Maria, she saw the same expression in her friend’s eyes.

“Makes you hope, does it not?” Maria whispered.

“Indeed. Yes,” Olivia replied softly.

“Now…” Maria seemed to shake herself from the longing and scanned the sea of people. “…if you didn’t know the Duke of Clairmont, that tells me that you don’t know
anyone.
”

“That is a very safe assumption,” Olivia replied and followed as Maria began to wind through the crowd.

“Hmm… over there is Miss Bethanny Lamont. She is the oldest ward of the Duke of Clairmont. She just had a come-out. I doubt she’ll remain unmarried for long.”

Olivia glanced over to where Maria gestured. A dark-haired beauty was dancing with a light-haired gentleman, though she seemed distracted, as if searching for someone else.

“And that is Lady Southridge. She a good friends with the duke and duchess and has the most divine-looking brother, much younger than she, of course.”

Olivia was trying to keep up with Maria and also take into account which person or persons she was referring to. As she glanced from Lady Southridge and back to Maria, she stumbled as she stepped on a something, compromising her balance.

Wobbling slightly, Olivia startled as strong hands righted her.

“Ah, Miss Olivia, we meet again. I trust you are well.” Mr. Sheppard’s voice was silky as he assisted with her balance and removed his hands from her waist.

“Y-yes, Mr. Sheppard. Forgive my clumsy nature. I— Did I step on your boot?” Glancing down, she noticed that there was nothing in her path, save the toes of the people around her.

Glorious.

“I assure you, all my toes are intact,” he replied, grinning at her in a flirtatious manner.

Olivia felt a brush of something touch her back. Shifting her gaze to the side, she noticed Maria’s eyes dart from Mr. Sheppard and back to hers.

“Oh! Forgive me again, I beg of you. This is my friend, Miss Maria, daughter of Lord Moray.”

“A delight to have the company of two fair creatures,” Mr. Sheppard complimented.

Maria smiled sweetly.

And was silent.

“I, that is to say, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Sheppard,” Olivia interjected into the growing quiet.

“It is my pleasure. There are few things as delightful as saving a damsel in distress.” He bowed.

Olivia stifled a giggle. “Ah, all that is missing is your armor.”

“Back home. I knew I’d forgotten something tonight.” He played along.

“I shall use my imagination.”

“How good of you.”

Olivia glanced to Maria, who was watching their conversation with a smile but had still not contributed to it.

Casting her friend a questioning expression, Maria simply smiled a bit bigger.

Not wanting to appear rude, Olivia picked up the conversation again. “I look forward to our dance, Mr. Sheppard. Till later.” She nodded after he bowed and pulled her friend along. As Olivia weaved through the crowd, she found nearby stretch of wall that was abandoned, save a few potted palms.

“Since when have you lost your ability to speak?” she asked her friend in a concerned tone.