The Seduction of Lady X (29 page)

“As you would be, were you me,” Robert groused. “One thinks he is well acquainted with a man and then discovers he hardly knows him at all.” He held up two fingers to the serving girl to indicate they needed two ales, then glared at Harrison.

Harrison laughed. “All right then, let’s have it, old friend. What has you behaving so petulantly?”

“When were you going to tell me, Harry? Are we not friends? Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you! What is it that you think I haven’t told you?”

Robert grunted at that and sat back, looking away from Harrison, folding his arms across his chest.

“Come on then, I cannot guess what has you wrought,” Harrison said. “When was I to tell you
what,
precisely?”

“That you were planning to marry Miss Hastings, that’s what,” Robert snapped. “The very same Miss Hastings whom, a mere fortnight ago, you had hoped to put off on some widow!”

“Ah,” Harrison said, sobering.

“Ah,”
Robert snapped.

Fran put the ales on the table without looking at Harrison and sashayed away. No smile, no inquiry after his health, no brushing against him as she was wont to do. Harrison groaned and hung his head for a moment. This month had to be the worst of his life. “I guess everyone within a radius of Everdon has heard it, then?”

“I’d wager a few,” Robert drawled. “And still, you’ve not answered my question. When did you think to tell
me
? When the first child was born?” He snorted and drank from his ale.

So did Harrison. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, Rob. But I hadn’t determined how exactly to make the announcement.”

Robert’s eyes rounded. “So it is true! Ach, I always believed you to be against marriage, in principle. I thought we were of like minds—better to bed them than to wed them.”

“I do not believe we are of like minds in that regard,” Harrison said with a wry smile. “But neither have I been eager to join the ranks of the married. However . . .” He glanced around them. “Some things have changed.”

“Have you fallen in love, then? Have you lost your esteem for your Lady X, and found it for a woman who is scarcely more than a girl? And before you answer that,” he said leaning forward and pointing at him, “I must warn you that I will not believe you if you say you have. Miss Hastings is comely and she might be quite agreeable, but I would wager all that I have that she is not as enticing as your Lady X.”

“I can’t deny it,” Harrison said. “She is not. Nevertheless, Miss Hastings finds herself in a bit of a bind, and I, in my infinite wisdom, agreed to help.”

“Why?” Robert demanded.

“Why not?” Harrison countered. “It’s not as if I might ever have Lady X.”

“I do not see why that is so,” Robert said stubbornly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harrison asked impatiently. “She is married. And not to me.” He drained the rest of his ale.

“Aye, I’ve had my suspicions,” Robert said. “Yet you’ve managed well enough until now. You’ve seemed perfectly happy until now! And now, out of the blue, you decide to marry someone you hardly know?” He shook his head. “It hardly sounds like you.”

“It is not my first choice,” Harrison said flatly. “But I have put myself into a corner. By the bye, how in blazes did you hear of it?”

With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Bernadette Shields rather enjoys the sound of her own voice.”

Harrison groaned and signaled for more ale. “I haven’t the slightest idea how Miss Shields learned of it, but I would wager Miss Hastings is equally fond of the sound of her voice.”

“By all that is holy, Harry,” Robert said with great exasperation. “If you are not inclined to marry this girl, do not shackle yourself. It will only lead to resentment and unhappiness. Are you prepared to live the rest of your life in that manner?”

God no, he was not prepared—not at all. He didn’t want to speak of it; he did not want to
think
of it. He wanted an hour or two of freedom from it. “No, I am not, but I gave my word. Bloody hell, it is even worse than that—I
offered,
Robert. In a moment of pity for the girl, I offered, and now it is impossible to extract myself from my word.”

Robert gaped at him. After a moment, he shook his head and looked sadly at his friend. “When?”

“In a matter of days,” Harrison muttered. “As soon as the rain lets up.” He shifted in his seat, chafing at the invisible binds cutting into him. “Come then, give me some news. Let me drink an ale and not think of my troubles for a few minutes.”

“I do not think I can best your news, but I shall try,” Robert said with a sigh, and settled back. “Andrew Penstock has been accused of poaching,” he began, and was in the midst of telling the story of Mr. Penstock’s unfortunate encounter with a constable when the door of the public house opened with a loud bang, startling everyone. The entire room of men twisted about to see who had come.

Lord Carey walked into the public house a bit unsteadily, but his gaze calmly surveyed the crowded room as he pulled the fingers of his glove from his hand one by one.

The sight of him confused Harrison. He couldn’t recall ever hearing of the marquis stopping at the public house. When the marquis’s gaze landed on Harrison, and he began to noisily push through the tables to him, Harrison believed it must be something to do with the estate.

“He looks as if he’s been swimming in a keg of ale,” Robert muttered.

“I imagine he has,” Harrison said low, and stood up. “My lord?” he said as Carey clumsily pushed one last table out of his way with such force that it toppled over. Harrison heard Robert rise behind him.

Carey looked at Harrison with venom. He grabbed the back of a chair to brace himself against it and said, “Did you honestly believe that you could strut around Everdon Court like a bloody peacock, and I wouldn’t learn of your betrayal? Did you think
you,
a bastard, could cuckold
me
and not suffer the consequences?”

The room was suddenly so silent that one could hear a coin fall.
Good God!
Harrison’s pulse began to pound with raw anger. He gestured to the table. “My lord, perhaps you might be more comfortable if you were to sit—”

“I do not want to bloody well sit!” Carey snapped, swaying a little against his chair. “I know you have lain with her, Tolly! I know you have put a child in my wife!”

“God in heaven,” Robert muttered.

“You are
quite
mistaken, my lord,” Harrison said sternly. “Please sit before you embarrass yourself further.”

“Traitor,” Carey said acidly. “After all I have done for you—”

“I will not stand here and allow you to besmirch your wife’s good name or mine with your slander. You are mistaken.”

Something sparked in Carey’s glassy eyes. He lunged forward and poked his finger in Harrison’s chest, pushing him. “I will see you hanged, Tolly. I will bloody well see you hanged for taking my wife to your bed!”

Harrison slapped the marquis’s hand down and grabbed his arm, holding it in a vise grip. “That is enough,” he said low. “You are making a grand fool of yourself. Sit down
now,
before you do irreparable harm.”

He was aware that Robert had moved to stand beside him, aware that everyone in the room was watching with mouths agape.

Carey didn’t seem to understand. He looked as if he would swing at Harrison at any moment, and Harrison prepared himself for it. But Carey was a coward through and through. He jerked his arm free of Harrison’s grasp and stumbled backward, colliding with a table. “You do not know what you have done,” he said. “You do not yet understand how you will pay for this.” He jerked around, colliding once more with the table, and with cry of rage, he sent it sliding across the room before he pitched out into the night.

No one moved; no one as much as breathed. When a few moments had passed and it appeared that the marquis would not return, people slowly began to take their seats. A din of whispering voices began to rise, and then looks were cast in Harrison’s direction.

Harrison jumped when Robert put his hand on his shoulder. “Sit down. The longer you stand there, the longer they stare,” he said, and pushed Harrison down into the seat, and his tankard of ale into his hand.

Harrison curled his fingers around the handle; rage tightened across his chest. “I should take my leave,” he said. “I cannot imagine what he has done to Lady Carey, if this is what he shows me in public.”

“Wait,” Robert counseled him. “Find your bearings. You won’t be of any use if you are as angry as he.”

Robert was right, but Harrison couldn’t stop imagining the many ways Carey might have harmed Olivia. His blood pumped that much harder.

“Well then,” Robert said as he lifted his tankard. “I suppose the secret of Lady X has been revealed.”

“Christ in heaven,” Harrison muttered, then lifted his tankard. “Ale!” he called to Fran. “Bring me ale!”

He had to take Olivia away from here.

Ashwood.
It was all he had, the only place he might escape to. He thought of Alexa, of Olivia, of the loyal staff of Everdon Court. Robert was speaking earnestly about something, but Harrison’s thoughts were whirling, the blood rushing like a river in his ears. Everything had just spun out of control and he didn’t know how to get it back.

The door to the Cock and Sparrow flew open again, and Harrison instantly came to his feet, whirling toward the door.

It was not Carey; it was a young man who shouted, “Help! Someone come, there’s been an accident!”

“What is it?” Harrison demanded as several men rushed out to see what had happened.

Another man stumbled in, his eyes filled with horror. He looked around the room, finally finding Harrison. “You must come, Mr. Tolly! It is the marquis! He rode too fast, and the horse slipped in the mud—broke her leg.”

The loud report of a gunshot sent a shock through Harrison. “Where is the marquis?” he asked quickly. “Is he harmed?”

The man gulped. “I think he’s dead, sir. Broke his neck.”

Y
ou have violated my trust,” Olivia said angrily to Nancy.

Her tone caught Nancy off guard; the young woman paled and gaped at Olivia. “I . . . I don’t know what you mean, mu’um.”

“Don’t you?” Olivia asked. “Who else in this house would be so presumptuous as to think they know something as intimate as a pregnancy?”

Nancy looked as if she might be ill.

“I am
not
with child, Nancy,” Olivia said, her hands curling into fists to keep from shouting. “But your unseemly speculation has caused a horrible rift between me and my husband.”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Carey,” Nancy muttered tearfully with a curtsy.

“It is too late for that.” She pointed to the door. “Go. Leave me.”

Nancy’s chin began to tremble as she fled. Olivia could hear her sobs as she ran down the hallway. She had never raised her voice to any servant, but the old accommodating Olivia—the one who feared angering her husband—was gone. She didn’t know what would happen next, but she would meet it head on.

She began to pace, her mind racing through all the possibilities. She’d never seen Edward so angry. She grabbed the iron fireplace poker and hid it behind the chair where she could reach it. She was prepared to use it—Edward would never force himself on her or lift a hand to her again, not if she could help it.

The sound of voices downstairs reached her. Her heart was racing so badly that she feared it might leap out of her chest. It sounded like several men had come with him. Olivia strained to hear. The voices were growing louder, and it sounded as if someone cried out. That was followed by footsteps moving swiftly down the corridor toward her room.

Olivia reached for the poker, her hand closing around the handle. Her breath was coming so hard and fast now that she was afraid her heart would stop. The hard rap on her door shot white-hot fear down her spine.

Another hard rap, and she lifted the poker.

“Lady Carey!” Brock called through the door.

Olivia dropped the poker.