His Wicked Heart (34 page)

“Thank you,” she said

They looked at each other a moment, and
Jasper realized he ought to leave. But she interrupted his
intention.

“I have your waistcoat.” She crossed to the
settee and pulled her sewing basket from beneath it. She extracted
the garment, and the blue and silver fabric shimmered in the
sunlight streaming through the windows. “Would you like to try it
on?”

That meant partially disrobing in front of
her again. He couldn’t trust himself to do that.

She must’ve sensed his hesitation. She handed
him the waistcoat. “Here, I’m sure the fit is excellent. My
measurements were sound, and I’m, ah, familiar with your frame.”
She blushed and looked away. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have
brought that up.”

“It’s fine.” His voice sounded strained,
likely because he was trying very hard not to relive last night’s
bliss. “But I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you again.”

Her gaze flew back to his. “You didn’t. I
completely initiated last night. If anything, I should apologize to
you.”

“Let’s just put the entire thing behind us.”
And because he had to make absolutely certain their liaison stayed
that way—in the past—he added, “I’ll be announcing my engagement
soon.”

Her eyes flickered the faintest amount of
surprise, but not enough to indicate she was completely unaware.
“Congratulations.”

Jasper’s mouth tasted bitter. What kind of
blackguard was he to have lain with Olivia while he was planning to
marry Philippa? The worst kind, of course.

“Jasper, I didn’t know you were here!” Louisa
breezed into the drawing room with a grin. “Oh, and Olivia’s
finished your waistcoat! How splendid. You must wear it to Vauxhall
tonight.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
Unless Olivia takes it off of me later. Stop it, man
. He’d
consider avoiding tonight’s endeavor altogether, but he needed to
talk with Prewitt. Then he’d be done with Olivia. For good.

OLIVIA made a show of tidying her drawings
and replacing them in the desk drawer as Jasper kissed Louisa’s
cheek and left. He’d been quite clear in his dismissal of her, but
what had she expected? She’d known even last night as she’d drawn
him into her bed that making love to him would be a solitary thing.
Well, a second solitary thing.

She blinked back a tear. She would not cry
over this. She’d survived much worse than…than…what? A broken
heart?

Foolish, foolish girl! He was heir to a
dukedom. She could never have a future with one such as him. What
she’d shared with him was more than she could hope for. And now she
had to do as he’d said and put it behind her.

“Bernard said you had guests for tea?” Louisa
asked.

Olivia turned to see Louisa helping herself
to a cake from the tray. Then she perched on the settee.

“Yes, Lady Lydia and Miss Cheswick.”

“Delightful. I’m so pleased you’re making
friends, dear.”

Olivia wasn’t sure she’d call them
friends
, at least not Lady Lydia. “Audrey is quite
nice.”

Louisa chuckled. “I gather you’ve figured out
Lady Lydia? She’s a bit of a wolf. I knew you were a smart girl. No
need to steer you away from bad decisions.”

If Olivia had joined her in eating a cake,
she would’ve suffered her second choking fit in the Rose Room. She
was currently the queen of bad decisions.

Olivia sat down next to Louisa. “When you say
Lady Lydia is a wolf, what do you mean?”

Louisa swallowed the remnants of her cake.
“She’s been molded by her great-aunt, the
ton’s
most
notorious gossip. They use information to sculpt their feared
positions in Society. And Lady Lydia is quite adept. Surely you’ve
noticed how Miss Cheswick trails after her?”

“Yes, and I don’t understand it.”

“Because, as I said, you’re too smart for
such nonsense. It’s good to be friendly with someone like Lady
Lydia, however, because you never know when she might sink her
wolf-like fangs into you. She’s a terrible busybody.”

Whose father could very well have the most
interesting
on-dit
of the summer: Lady Merriweather’s new
ward was nothing more than a bastard whose mother was a notorious
whore. Olivia had to believe that if Lady Lydia possessed this
information she’d use it. But to what end? Perhaps to force Jasper
into marriage with Audrey? What a spectacular notion—and a baseless
one at that. Audrey would never agree to such mischief.

“I can see that. She was quite interested in
speculating about Jasper’s betrothal.”

“Well, that actually makes her quite normal,”
Louisa said. “Everyone is speculating about his betrothal.”

“Do you think it will be Lady Philippa?”
Olivia recalled the beautiful young woman’s perfect poise and
elegance. She would make Jasper a stunning and more than
appropriate wife.

“I expect so, yes.” She frowned. “Though, the
longer he takes, the more I question an engagement at all. It’s not
like him to dawdle. Once he makes up his mind, he usually follows
through quite quickly and definitively. Like with that horse of
his.”

Olivia didn’t agree, but only because Jasper
had just assured her that his betrothal was imminent. She wouldn’t
reveal that to Louisa, however. She didn’t want her suspecting
their relationship went anything beyond that of “cousins.”

Louisa stood and went to the desk, on top of
which sat a stack of unopened mail. “I suppose we’d best field
these invitations. You don’t mind helping do you, dear? I don’t
want to go to anything that doesn’t sound appealing to you.” She
returned with the missives and sat back down, placing them in her
lap.

She looked through them first and plucked one
from the middle. “This is addressed to you, dear.”

Olivia accepted the sealed parchment. She
didn’t recognize the handwriting. Her heart lurched as she unfolded
the paper. The neatly penned words screamed from the page.

Leave Lady Merriweather’s house or your
true parentage and background will be made public. The bastard
daughter of Fiona Scarlet has no place in Polite Society
.

She angled herself so that Louisa couldn’t
read the note over her shoulder, and tried to keep her hands from
shaking. Who would have sent this?

Louisa looked up from the invitation she was
reading. “Who’s that from, dear?”

“Just a note from…Mrs. Gifford,” she
fabricated. “She sends her best wishes.”

“How kind of her.” Louisa went back to
reading.

Olivia should probably tell her the truth,
and might yet still, but for now her mind was whirling. Jasper
would want to know. She’d tell him tonight. Tonight! He planned to
speak with Lord Prewitt. Was it possible he was too late? Had
Prewitt already acted? But why send a note like this instead of
spreading the gossip? Only someone who wanted her gone would have
written such a thing.

Who wanted her gone?

Once, not too long ago, she might’ve said
Jasper, but now she knew he wouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be like
him to send a note anyway. Last night he’d come to evict her,
regardless of the hour, but had changed his mind once she’d
convinced him she wasn’t a threat. Had he now changed his mind
back? But no, he’d just been here and was still committed to
helping her. He wasn’t behind the note.

Any number of people may not approve of her
if they knew the truth, but only one would want to get rid of her.
Just as he’d gotten rid of Jasper’s first love. The Duke of
Holborn.

She folded the letter and set it in her lap.
Though she wanted to tell Jasper, she couldn’t bring herself to
make an already tense relationship between father and son worse.
Not when she would give anything to have a father of her own.

JUST past twilight Jasper strolled through
the Grove at Vauxhall. He nodded at people promenading and sitting
at the tables surrounding the orchestra. Music filled the warm
night air as he made his way to Lady Badby’s supper box.

His gaze immediately fell on Olivia. Her
auburn hair was artfully styled with pearl-encrusted combs. Though
she sat, her upper body was visible, revealing a blue gown also
decorated with pearls along the bodice. She sat next to Louisa and
laughed at something his aunt said. He’d never seen Olivia look
lovelier.

He forced himself to look around the table
for Lord Prewitt. He easily found the man’s mother, a small,
ancient creature seated next to Lady Badby, their host. At last, he
caught sight of Prewitt just returning from walking with…Sevrin?
What the devil was he doing here?

Jasper strode to meet them. “Good evening
Prewitt, Sevrin,” he said as he joined them.

“Evening, Saxton.” Prewitt nodded his head,
covered in a wealth of dark gray hair.

Jasper sent Sevrin a questioning glance.
“Saxton, I was just accompanying Lord Prewitt to Lady Badby’s box.
I understood you would be here this evening and thought I’d stop
by.”

Jasper wanted to ask,
but why did Prewitt
allow you to speak with him
? Had Sevrin’s reputation improved
that much since Jasper had befriended him?

“I’m glad you did. Capital evening.” Jasper
searched for a way to broach the subject of Prewitt’s recognition
of Olivia.

“Say, Saxton. There’s something a bit
familiar about your aunt’s ward,” Sevrin said, casting a long look
in Olivia’s direction. Jasper wasn’t sure what Sevrin had in mind,
but he seemed to have a strategy so he followed along.

“Is there?” Jasper subtly directed the
question at Prewitt, slightly turning his body toward the older
man.

“I thought so, too,” Prewitt agreed then
shook his head. “But I have to be mistaken. I thought she looked
like an actress. That was before you lads were out in Society.”

“An actress?” Sevrin tapped his chin as if he
were contemplating this notion. Suddenly he held up his finger and
grinned. “I’ve figured it out. Lady Dalrymple.”

Prewitt frowned. “His aunt’s ward doesn’t
look a bit like her. Lady Dalrymple has a wide…shoulders and very
dark hair.”

Jasper held his breath. What tangle was
Sevrin creating? Was Prewitt about to insist Olivia looked like
Fiona Scarlet?

Sevrin chuckled. “You’re quite right, she
doesn’t resemble Lady Dalrymple at all, but Lady Dalrymple has a
portrait in her drawing room—I believe it’s her husband’s
great-grandmother—and the subject is the exact replica of Miss
West, I swear.”

Jasper nodded slowly. He knew the painting
Sevrin spoke of—though he briefly wondered how Sevrin did—and while
the woman did possess the same color hair, he wouldn’t go so far as
to say Olivia was an ‘exact replica’. Nevertheless, he went along
with Sevrin. “I do believe you’re right. It’s a striking portrait,
quite large. Surely you’ve seen it, Prewitt?” He waited anxiously
for Prewitt’s response.

“I have. Indeed, I think you’re right,
Sevrin. I knew she looked familiar.”

Sevrin smiled. “Ah well, mystery solved.”

“Incidentally, what actress did you mean?”
Jasper wanted to know Prewitt’s relationship—if there was one—with
Olivia’s mother.

“Oh, I can’t even recall her name. Scarlet
maybe? Ruby?” He waved a hand. “I saw her at Drury Lane once.
Remarkable talent.”

Jasper tried not to let his relief show.

Lord Prewitt gave a slight bow. “Now, please
excuse me while I check on Mother.” He turned and joined Lady
Badby’s party.

“I wasn’t sure where you were going with
that,” Jasper said softly.

“That was rather fun.” Sevrin looked about.
“Is there anyone else we can bam?”

Jasper gave him an exasperated look. “Thank
you for your help.”

“Any time. I don’t really plan on crashing
Lady Badby’s party. Will I see you at the Black Horse later?”

“Probably.” His gaze strayed to Olivia. “I’m
going to take Olivia for a promenade and tell her she has nothing
to fear from Prewitt.”

“Now?” Sevrin elbowed him in the arm, drawing
his attention from Olivia. “Do you think that’s wise?”

Jasper gave him an acerbic look. “What, are
you the duke now?”

Sevrin snorted. “I know how difficult it is
for you to keep your hands off of her. I’d inquire as to whether
your affections have waned, but I can see from the way you look at
her they haven’t.”

Christ, was Jasper that transparent? That
wouldn’t do. Perhaps walking with her wasn’t the best idea. He
could just as well visit her tomorrow.

He elbowed Sevrin back. “Mind your own
business. I’ll see you later.”

“Good evening, my dear boy,” Louisa called as
Jasper neared the box.

“Good evening, Aunt, Miss West.” He bowed to
each of them before turning to his hostess. “Lady Badby, thank you
for your invitation.”

A tall, slender woman with jet-black hair
shot through with silver, Lady Badby had been a friend of Louisa’s
as long as Jasper could remember. Though given to gossip, Lady
Badby had always treated him with fondness and care. Tonight her
eyes sparkled with ill-suppressed glee. “Thank you for gracing us
with your presence. Is there any chance Lady Philippa will be
joining us?” She fixed him with an inquisitive stare, her lips
pulling up in an expectant smile.

So she hoped her little party might garner
the summer’s most coveted
on-dit
? Was that why she’d
included him?

Beyond Lady Badby, Louisa rolled her eyes.
“Augusta, don’t be gauche.”

Lady Badby laughed, seemingly unbothered by
Louisa’s admonition. “Oh, my dear Louisa, you know I had to
ask.”

“You had to do no such thing. Now, Jasper,
take Olivia for a promenade.”

Her command made Jasper’s decision regarding
whether to talk with Olivia tonight or tomorrow. Tonight was just
as well. Better to get this over with so he could focus on Lady
Philippa. His insides felt hollow.