Lady Olivia's Undoing (11 page)

Henry led her to the fireplace. “I need to
speak to you. Before we go one step further.”

Olivia sank slowly onto the seat of a chair.
“Very well.”

Henry leaned against the mantel. “I must
confess. I have done nothing but think about you, about us, since I
received your note. I’ve wanted to call on you since Catherine
departed, but I could not. I thought I might have seen you during
the Little Season and we could talk. But I never did.” Henry took a
sip of his drink.

“I cannot explain to you how it feels to be
returning to a place that tried to kill me so many times. However,
what I can explain is how it feels to be leaving. Olivia, I have
loved you since I was twenty. I have dreamed about you every night
for the last three and a half decades. Being with you last night
was something I’d only ever
imagined
doing. I never thought
I would be able to hold you in my arms.” He shook his head and
looked at her. “I cannot lose you again, Olivia. I cannot.”

Olivia’s eyes never left his.

“Even without your devotion toward Quiggins,
I knew there was someone in your life. I’m sure there have been
several someone’s over the course of the years.” He took another
drink. “But quite honestly, I do not give a damn. This is about
us
, Olivia.” Henry paused. “I cannot live my life without
you anymore.” Henry put his glass on the mantel, then reached for
Olivia’s hands and pulled her from the chair. “I have waited almost
forty years to ask this again.” He slipped a ruby ring over her
finger. “Will you be my wife?”

Olivia sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, Henry.”
She looked at the ring, and then at his face. How many times had
she fantasized about this moment? But it had never happened. Until
now.

Henry quirked his brow. “Well?”

She did not think. “Yes, yes, I will marry
you,” Olivia said breathlessly.

Henry reached for her and they shared a
lengthy kiss before Henry stepped back.

Olivia smiled at him. “And now are you going
to take me upstairs and ravage me?”

“No. No, I am not.”

Olivia was stunned. “Why not, may I ask?”

Henry laughed. “Because I am a
gentleman.”

Olivia looked at him. “You are serious.”

“Yes, Your Grace, I am.” He drained his
glass, walked back to the decanter, and poured himself another.
“Olivia, I love you. I have always loved you. As much as I would
love to make love to you, it would not be proper. Therefore, I
propose we wait until I return from Spain.”

“
What?
Hen-ry!.” Olivia strode across
the room and held out her glass. “What do you mean, you wish to
wait? Have we not waited long enough?”

Henry poured her a small tot. “Yes, my
dearest one, but that is the point, is it not? What is another half
a year between us?”

“Six months! That is interminable.”

Henry laughed. “I thought while I was in
Spain you could plan our wedding I cannot imagine you would enjoy
anything more, and you will not miss me as much if you have
something to do.”

Olivia smiled at him. “I will miss you more
now, you foolish man. Mayhap for your punishment, I shall leave the
whole affair to the girls. If we end up with yards and yards of
organdy cascading from the walls of the Manor, it will not be my
fault.”

Henry gazed at her tenderly. “As long as you
are my bride, I will gladly endure organdy, whatever it is.”

Olivia put up her hand and looked at her
ring. “Is this a family heirloom?”

“Why do you ask?” Henry regarded her with a
curious expression.

“It is simple in its design. Nothing so
ornate as these.” Olivia waggled her fingers on her right hand
exposing her other rings.

“This ring,” he said, and picked up her hand,
“is the one I bought for you seven-and-thirty years ago.”

Olivia stared at him. Her eyes welled. “Oh,
Henry. You kept it all this time.” She had often wondered over the
years how Henry truly felt about her. Now she knew.

Henry put down his glass and kissed her.
“Come darling, let us return to the ball, and celebrate.”

“Are you sure you do not wish to go
upstairs?” Olivia asked.

“As much as it pains me to say, yes, I am
sure. I do not wish to take you upstairs.”

“Very well. Let us return to the ball.” Henry
Wade was as perfect as Olivia had always imagined. A true
gentleman. And she was secretly relieved that she would not share
his bed. As much as she loved Henry, she owed John that much.

Olivia and Henry returned to the ball and it
was not long before word spread that they were engaged.
Congratulations rang from every corner. Olivia held onto her single
glass of champagne, and would not let anyone refill it. As the
toasts grew more bawdy, Olivia excused herself from the gaiety to
find the ladies withdrawing room.

“Cousin?” a voice called. “Cousin Olivia.
Wait.”

Olivia turned to her left, then right. Ariana
pushed through the crowd.

“I am so glad I found you at last,” Ariana
said. “I hate to impose, but I am quite done in. May I have use of
the carriage? I could not find my father or I would have asked for
his.”

“Of course, dearest. Where is Bella?”

“Dancing. She is making a spectacle of
herself with the Duke of Straford. She has danced with him four
times.”

“That
is
alarming.” Olivia wondered at
the girl’s cheeky behaviour. “Where are your parents?”

“The last I saw Mama, she and her cousins
were talking by the terrace doors. I have no idea where Father
is.”

Olivia reached for Ariana’s hand and then
realized the poor girl could barely walk. “Oh, Ariana, forgive me.
Let us find you a place to sit while I search for your mother.”
Luckily, the formal parlour sat to the left of the front door.
“Come with me, dearest. I know just the place for a respite.”

Olivia helped Ariana to the front parlour.
She gave instructions to two footman, and left Ariana waiting for a
cup of tea. Olivia knew that Reginald would not be in the ballroom,
and checked the dining room first. On the second floor, Olivia
spotted Ariana’s father walking toward the library. Olivia called
out to him. He stopped and turned around, surprise on his face when
he realized it was Olivia.

“I must speak with you,” Olivia said.
“Ariana’s leg pains her and requested to leave. She also informs me
that Bella has danced with Edward Perrington four times. You would
do best to curb your daughter’s enthusiasm where Straford is
concerned.” She smiled. “I will see Ariana home.” Then she turned
and walked away.

Olivia returned to the parlour. A young man
with a ghastly bandage on the left side of his face spoke with
Ariana. He looked slightly familiar, but Olivia was too harried to
think about it. When he caught sight of her, he rose.

Ariana tried to rise, but fell back on the
sofa. “Cousin Olivia. May I present Mr. Stephen Summerville,
Bella’s fiancé.” She looked at Stephen. “Mr. Summerville, this is
my mother’s cousin, Her Grace, Lady Leighton, Duchess of
Caymore.”

The young man offered a bow. “Your Grace, it
is very nice to make your acquaintance.”

“What happened to your face?” Olivia
asked.

“Kicked by a horse, Your Grace.”

“I hope you kicked it in return.”

Mr. Summerville tried to smile.

Olivia looked at Ariana. “Are you ready to
leave, dearest?” She picked up her cape from the back of a chair.
“Do you need assistance?”

“Allow me.” Mr. Summerville placed his arm
around Ariana’s back and gently lifted her from the sofa. He held
her cane ready and when she grabbed it, he slipped her velvet shawl
around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Ariana said.

Now Olivia understood the discord between
Ariana and Bella. There was no doubt in Olivia’s mind Ariana was in
love with Mr. Summerville. And it did seem that the young man had
more than a passing interest in Ariana. However, in the middle was
Bella, a headstrong girl likely to follow in her mother’s
hysterical footsteps if she ever heard such as a whisper about
Ariana and Stephen. Or perhaps Bella did know and that was why she
repeatedly danced with Edward – to find a reason to cry off their
engagement. If so, Bella played a dangerous game. Edward
Perrington, Duke of Straford was not someone to trifle with.

Outside, Henry waited for her by the
carriage. “You were not going to say good-bye?”

Olivia glanced at Mr. Summerville who helped
Ariana into the carriage. She walked with Henry to the gate. The
night had been perfect. Henry had been perfect. She had not wanted
to ruin it by a long drawn out leave-taking. Ariana had been the
ideal excuse to escape. She had planned to write Henry a note as
soon as she returned to Caymore. How could she say good-bye?

“I love you, Henry. With all of my heart.
Godspeed and safe journey.”

“I shall be home before you know it.” He
kissed her. “I do love you, Olivia. Be well.” He leaned in for one
last kiss.

Olivia touched his face, memorizing the lines
and contours.

He broke away and looked at her. “I love
you.” Then he returned to the house.

At Caymore House, Manning helped Olivia
settle Ariana in her bedchamber and then Olivia returned
downstairs. Her mind was a muddle of thoughts – Henry Wade had
asked her to marry him. She said yes. What would she say to John?
She couldn’t possibly tell him. John needed to be reconciled in his
mind, clear-headed and sober when he went to Spain. He did not need
the complications of a love triangle to interfere with his duty to
the Crown. If something happened to him because of her, she would
never forgive herself. She stood outside the kitchen door. Would
Henry tell John about the proposal?
That
was a horrible
thought. But if it happened, there was nothing she could do about
it. She pushed open the kitchen door.

John sat at the long plank table.

“
Oh
.” Olivia said. “What are you doing
here? I thought you’d gone upstairs already.” Olivia stepped inside
the warm kitchen. Seeing they were alone, she touched his cheek.
“How are you? You must be exhausted. Come to bed.”

John took her hand and brought it to his
lips. “Do I not always wait for you?”

“Yes, you do.” Olivia tugged on his hand. “I
am going to miss you so, John. Must you really go?” John followed
her up the servants’ staircase.

“Yes, I must, and you know it.” John mimicked
her footfalls on the treads as he followed behind her. Olivia
continued down the hall to the bedroom as John disappeared behind
the wall. She opened her bedchamber door and stepped inside, closed
the door and locked it. John stepped out from behind the armoire.
Their little charade had not fooled any of the staff, but the
servants were loyal and would not gossip.

Olivia laid her gloves and reticule on the
edge of the small table, took off all her rings, and dropped them
in a tray on the dresser. She picked up the buttonhook and walked
over to John. “Would you mind?”

John took the implement from her and turned
her around. His hands worked deftly to undo the twenty or so
buttons down the length of the gown. “I’m afraid Jennings is going
to have to undress you from now on,” he said. The last button
unfastened, he parted the silk and placed a gentle kiss between her
shoulders.

“Yes, poor Jennings will have to wait up for
me now.” Olivia let the gown fall to her feet and stepped out of
it. “Come to bed.” She slipped out of her shoes and unfastened her
bracelet as she walked to the bed. Dropping the bracelet on the
table, she lifted the covers and patted the other side of the
bed.

John stripped down to his drawers and climbed
in beside her.

“How was your day?” Olivia asked.

“It was all very well.” John sat up against
the headboard.

“Is Manning catching on? How is dear Summers
getting about?” Olivia scooted over and laid her head against
John’s chest. She wrapped her arm around his waist.

John rested his hand in her hair and began
pulling out the pins. “Oh, yes. Manning is superb. Top rate fellow.
Haverlane is lucky to have him.” John plucked more pins. “Summers
is having some difficulty, but that was to be expected. He cannot
keep up with the young ladies’ comings and goings. Andrew keeps him
entertained in the pantry most mornings so he feels he has
accomplished something useful. Andrew is a good lad. When Manning
returns to Haverlane, he would be a good replacement. He will grow
into his position. I do not think you will be displeased.” John ran
his hand through Olivia’s hair and plucked one more pin from the
blonde tresses. “There, I think that should have done.”

Olivia ran her fingers lightly over John’s
belly. “You are the very best of men, John Quiggins. I hold you in
the highest estimable regard.”

John chuckled. “As I hold you, my dearest,
Livvy.” He picked up the pins from the bed and placed them on the
night table. “Come now, let us to bed. To sleep perchance to dream.
I must away presently.”

Olivia waited for John to reposition himself
and then curled herself against his chest. She would let him sleep
and wake him with a kiss.

John stood in the middle of the room
buttoning his shirt.

“Let me at least walk you downstairs,” Olivia
said. She flung the covers back.

“No,” he said. John walked over and pulled
the blankets to cover her exposed breasts. “I want this to be the
last thing I remember of you while I’m away. Naked and sleepy from
our lovemaking.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I shall miss you
very much, Livvy. Do not forget that.”

Olivia cleared her throat, batted her
eyelashes, and choked back a sob. “Oh, John.”

“Do not cry. I shall return before you even
know I’m gone.” He picked up his jacket, shrugged into it, and then
leaned down for one more kiss. “I love you.” He put his hand in his
pocket and brought out a small jewelry box. “This was my
grandmother’s. I want you to have it.”