Mary Blayney (50 page)

“Based on a lifetime of experience,” Reverend Drummond stated after he had taken another small sip of his drink, “I can tell you, Mr. Garrett, that men who have seen the world and endured its temptations, those are the men who make the best ministers. Men with my naïveté are not nearly as forgiving of man’s failings.”

Michael stopped at the door. He understood that. A man who had faced death most fully embraced life.

“Mr. Garrett, you will give her what she needs. What she wants. That is love. That measure of love she has so freely given, but never yet received herself.”

“That isn’t true, Reverend. They all love her.” The man was old and almost as addled as his sister.

“But you see, sir,” Drummond said, looking all too lucid, “the difference is that none of them love her like you do.”

37

O
LIVIA WOKE
to the sound of Michael coming up the stairs. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, the gray day making it impossible to judge the time by the sun. It was still light, but this time of year the days lasted longer so it could well be after supper time.

It didn’t matter. He had come. Olivia turned her head on the pillow and watched the door open.

“Garrett? Wake up. It’s time for you to show Samuelson his rounds.”

David!
No, no, no.
One more minute and she could have slid off the bed and under it and he would never have known. But he came into the room before she could do more than have the idea. His shock was at least as extreme as hers.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“All right, David. Please calm down.” She popped out of the bed, pushed the skirt of her dress down around her knees and used one foot to feel under the bed for her shoes. “I fell asleep, but I can explain.”

“I will let Garrett explain.”

David left the room without another word, leaving Olivia scrabbling on the floor for her shoes.

There was a mirror, not a very big one, but it was large enough for her to see that she looked like she had just finished a very energetic wrestling match. In bed.
Oh dear.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she tiptoed downstairs, hoping, praying that Michael had gone to Pennsford or at least was in the kitchen or surrounded by others. When David found him there would surely be a fight.

She raced back to the castle and up to her room, thinking to change her dress, but Kendall was not there. At her own supper perhaps. She brushed her hair and grabbed a shawl to cover the wrinkles in her gown.

It took her the better part of an hour to find out that Michael had been to Pennsford, had spoken to her brother the duke, had gone to talk to Big Sam about the details of his new position and was currently in the boxing ring with Lord David.

“The doors are closed.” The footman stood in front of the door, emphasizing his point. “No one is to observe them, my lady.”

Frantic, Olivia reached around him for the door handle. “I am going in.”

What would a footman do to the duke’s sister, physically restrain her? Not likely; besides, she would fight him off if he did. She was so afraid that David would hurt Michael or Michael would kill David. She had to do something.

The footman stepped back and Olivia ran into the old courtyard. “Stop! Stop!” she yelled as she reached ringside. The two men circled each other, hands raised, faces intent. “David, nothing happened.” She danced down the side of the ring, trying to draw his attention. “David! Listen! Nothing happened! Nothing.”

With the doors wide open, Olivia was vaguely aware that people were hurrying through the outer ward into the courtyard, and she knew she would have to stop this quickly or everyone would be here.

Olivia climbed awkwardly into the ring and stumbled toward them. Both had cuts on their cheekbones and David was bleeding from the nose.

Neither of them paid any attention to her. They were lost in a world of frenzied battering and it had to stop.

She stepped between them as they both swung. David’s punch caught her in the ear and Michael’s in her stomach. Stars exploded as the wind was knocked from her. She went down like a sack of flour and the world went black.

When she came to, Michael was rubbing her back. She could hear David swearing and Michael praying and knew that her hearing had not been ruined even if her ear throbbed.

“What were you thinking, Olivia?”

Even as he chastised her, Michael gathered her up in his arms and held her tight to his chest. Her stomach and ear might hurt but her heart was as light as a feather. He must love her. All right, he must at least want to hold her as though she were a treasure he was afraid to lose.

She leaned back in his arms. “See, if you had come to me, none of this would have happened.” Tears filled her eyes and she buried her face in his chest again. This time her heart was aching.

“Let me take you to your room, Olivia.”

“No!” She straightened and pushed herself out of Michael’s arms so that she was sitting on the floor of the boxing ring. “You two clean yourselves up. You look disgusting. David, you will stop fighting. Michael, I will be very annoyed if any of your blood is on this dress. It is my very favorite. The material is from a dress that was my mother’s.”

She looked down at her dress and it seemed blood-free, though there was a small tear in a side seam. That could be easily fixed. “Send Big Sam to me. He can help me upstairs.”

They actually obeyed her. Big Sam must have been nearby, for it was only a moment later that he was helping her to her feet. He wanted to carry her to her room but Olivia insisted that she would walk. She would go to bed for the night, and when she woke up in the morning she could pretend that this had not happened.

By the time she was in her room all she wanted was to lie down on her bed. She wished she could fall asleep but could only replay the stupid moment when David had found her in Michael’s bed.

When Kendall told her that the duke wished to see her, Olivia felt like she had been punched again.

Her maid made a small sound of disapproval when Olivia suggested she would not be well enough until morning.

“Nonsense, Olivia, you have never kept to your bed a day in your life. Not even with your courses. Besides, your mother would say that it is better to face the problem now than let the duke have all night to think about it.”

Kendall helped her change, never once asking what happened. No doubt she had already heard from three other sources some version of why David and Michael were fighting.

Olivia wore her favorite pink slippers even though they did not quite match the pink in her dress, and hurried downstairs to find Lyn in his study. Sitting at his desk.

His face was solemn, not a good sign. She curtsyed when what she really wanted was one of his I-love-you-in-spite-of-everything-hugs.

“Tell me what happened, Olivia.” She had not heard him speak in that tone since Jess had bet one of his horses and lost. She could feel her throat fill, and she swallowed.

“Do not start crying.”

The way he emphasized the first two words made it a command. As if she had control over her tears. All right, maybe she did sometimes.

“Start with why David and Garrett were in the boxing ring going at each other with no thought to gentlemanly rules or behavior.”

She hesitated. Even though she was a terrible liar, Olivia held on to the hope that divine inspiration would come to her. Of course, the divine probably had no idea how to lie. “How do you know that’s where David and Mr. Garrett were?”

“Winthrop had it from three different footmen. He came to me. According to Patsy, you stopped them before I could send someone stronger and more capable.”

“Patsy saw me?”

“Yes.” They both knew that was like making an announcement from the pulpit at church.

“So you are saying everyone knows that they were fighting?”

“Yes. Lovely, is it not?” He meant the opposite. “We spent a ridiculous amount of time and effort trying to save your reputation and it appears it was all for nothing.”

“All right.” She drew a deep breath. She was going to tell the truth. If she did that she would not have to try to keep her story straight the next five times Lyn asked her to repeat it. “David came to the gatehouse looking for Michael—I mean Mr. Garrett. He was not there but I was in his bed. I was fully dressed, Lyn.”

When the duke actually allowed shock to show in his eyes, Olivia tried to quell it with a raised hand and a quick explanation. “When I went to the gatehouse, I went for the express purpose of seducing Michael. He would have none of it and he left. He refused. He said no. He does not want me. Ever. Never. Do you see?”

“What I see is a girl who must have borrowed sheer stupidity from Mary. You have worked beside her too long.”

Olivia had to admit that from his point of view her behavior made no sense.

“What were you thinking, Olivia?” He shook his head, “Or was this one of your damned impulsive decisions?”

“It was not an impulse. Michael said the same thing.” She was going to call him Michael even if Lyn beat her with a whip. He was Michael to her and would be forever.

“Here is what I was thinking.” She folded her arms and took a stance. “Since my reputation is ruined anyway, I wanted to take a lover and learn what all the fuss is about. When he was done with me I would go back to the kitchen and spend the rest of my life pouring all my love into the food I make.”

“But your reputation is not—or was not—ruined.”

“Yes, it is, Lyn.” She stopped and sniffed. The touch of kindness in his voice brought the tears back. “No one really believes that I was sick at the vicar’s.”

“But they would have accepted it if you gave them no reason to doubt it.” He stood up again. “Now it is too late. There are only so many convincing lies I can tell. You are going to have to marry him.”

“Who?”

“Garrett, of course.”

“No, no, no.” This was a nightmare. “He does not even want to sleep with me, much less marry me. He does not like my cinnamon buns and told me that he could think of at least two or three things that he thinks would taste better than strawberries and cream. And you know that is not possible.”

“Your lips being one of them, I’d wager. I will not even guess more than that.”

“Oh.” She raised a hand to her mouth and felt a blush starting. She wrinkled her nose. “Do you think that is really what he meant?”

“It is worse than inappropriate to be asking your brother to explain the words of your would-be lover.” He paused for a moment. “And your future husband.”

The duke came around and sat on the edge of his desk. “Listen to me, Olivia, for I promise you I will have learned my lesson and will never play matchmaker again.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means that Gabriel suggested Garrett as a match for you when he wrote the letter of introduction. He said that Garrett needed someone like you to make him realize that there was still sweetness in this world and that it need not be boring to live the life of a civilian. One thing you are not, dear child, is boring.”

“So you are saying this was Gabriel’s idea?”

“His suggestion, Olivia. I was not very interested in considering it until you had a second London Season but it was like trying to win an argument against coal mining to convince you to consider that. Which is to say, impossible. I watched the way he talked about you, the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, and I thought that Gabriel might be right.”

“Do you think so?” She was not convinced but wanted to hear more, as much as Lyn would say.

“I hired him so that he would be around awhile and I could see what developed. But it has been such a disaster that I have learned my lesson and will never try to manipulate Cupid again.” He went back behind his desk and sat down again. “Did you know that Garrett’s father is a bishop?”

“No.” That was a surprise. A bishop? “I do know that they are not close.”

“Did you know that he was trained at Oxford to take orders?”

“Yes.” How much did Lyn know about Michael that she did not? This might be a chance to find the answers to at least a dozen questions. “How did he meet Gabriel?”

“That is enough from me. Ask him. I will speak to the major and afterwards I will send him to you. Go to the green salon and wait for him there.”

Olivia wanted to be a dutiful sister but she could not bear it. She hurried around to his side of the desk and fell on her knees. “Please, please let me speak to Michael first, Lyn. I would sooner become a lady-in-waiting to Princess Charlotte than have him marry me if the idea disgusts him. Please, please, let me speak to him before you do.”

“Off your knees, you silly chit.” He raised her by the arm, looking shocked. “You are overdoing it.”

“It is my life we are talking about, Lynford!” She had to bite her lip to keep from adding,
I do not want a marriage like yours.

“Yes, Olivia, you may talk to him first.”

Olivia had no idea why he relented, but she grabbed his hand and kissed it.

“You can talk to him, but it will not change what is going to happen.”