Siren's Secret (23 page)

Olivia ducked back in the room. She twirled in the center of the room, simply enjoying the space after weeks of confined privacy. Stafford liked her smile. She pirouetted and twirled. And so far no women in this port. She would forgo being Professor Hill for the evening and take her proper place in society. And she needed the edge of confidence with the company she was keeping. Plus … she wanted to look good for a change. She ignored that fact that she wanted to look good for Stafford.

A hotel maidservant assigned to her helped with her gown. Olivia chose a light muslin with silver ribbons. She secured her hair in a knot, but the woman shook her head.

“No?”

“No, m’lady.”

Olivia took it down. It was straight and heavy—largely unremarkable. Elizabeth’s hair fell in luscious waves around her face and over her shoulders. Olivia’s was just straight. The woman produced some shears and offered to trim the ends. Olivia agreed, and the result was a blunt cut to her shoulders that made her tresses feel thicker and more luxurious. When she spun her head the style fell back into place. It felt good. And
fun.
She smiled to herself, enjoying the childish act of swinging her hair. Yes, this would do.

Olivia dismissed the maid, then fussed for thirty more minutes. She expected Elizabeth and Riedell to come get her on the way down. When they finally did, Olivia’s stomach was filled with tension.

“What is it dear?” Elizabeth touched her arm.

“Nothing. Just anxious tonight.”

“You needn’t be. You are Lady Olivia Katharine Hastings Yates, genius and consummate lady. And you look stunning.”

“Aye, you do, Lady Olivia,” Riedell said. “The captain won’t be able to take his eyes off you. I’d wager on it.” He caught her expression and grinned. “Not that you’d care, of course.”

“Of course,” she replied. But she hoped he was right anyway.

Samuel had reserved a private room for them to dine in tonight, as there was much to discuss and celebrate. He intended to celebrate before he would have to tell Olivia that there was no word of her father around town. His sister had already made inquiries.

He poured a whiskey for himself and his brother-in-law, enjoying a rare sense of peace that only came when someone in his family was near. Seeing his sister safe from harm and enjoying her company was becoming an infrequent treat. Nathan opened the door for Elizabeth and Olivia to join the group. He stood and smiled politely.

And then he saw her.

He was certain his heart stopped. She smiled at him. Deliberately. Knowingly. Her smile grew. No doubt from his dull-witted reaction. He had never seen her look this way. Like a streak of moonlight.

Hair like silver, eyes like two stars.
It was true. In the pale dress, with her white-blonde hair framing her face, her eyes glowed even more oddly. Not clear. Not gray. Silver. A precious silver.

He stepped closer to take her hand. A husky whisper escaped. “You look magnificent.” He lifted her hand, their eyes still engaged, and watched as the silver turned to a stormy gray. Her hand trembled, and he observed with relief that he was not the only one moved by their connection. He smiled back, then swallowed as his eyes inadvertently observed the swell of pearly white skin above her low neckline. Her dress paid tribute to parts of her that had been bound and hidden in the last couple of weeks. He was grateful for it now. He met her eyes apologetically, unable to stop his grin when the skin under inspection turned pink.

“You’re a wicked man, Stafford.” She pulled her hand away.

He grinned more broadly. “It seems I am.”

Olivia wished she could have been more nonchalant, but not many men looked at her like that in London. Hungry, possessive, admiring. She felt both giddy and powerful.

She turned to greet the others—and froze.

Samuel’s sister, as yet unnoticed by the others, was staring at her white-faced. Even her freckles paled. If Olivia hadn’t known better, she’d have guessed the woman had just been shocked. Only nothing of significance had happened in the time since she entered. “Your Grace!”

Everyone turned.

“Alex!” The duke immediately caught his wife in his arms and brought her over to the settee, sitting down with her on his lap. “Alex? Alex?” He tried to get her attention, but she simply stared at Olivia, unmoving—as if she were seeing something else.

An eerie shiver went down Olivia’s spine. She stepped forward to ask what is was, and Her Grace recoiled.

Samuel turned to her, his expression questioning. Olivia thought she might be as pale as the other woman now. “Your Grace, please. What is it?” she begged.

No answer.

“Perhaps it is the heat,” Olivia offered. The woman wore long sleeves again, and it was certainly not overly cool, despite the open windows of the bottom-floor chamber.

Finally the duchess gasped for air—as if she had been underwater too long. Her color returned. Samuel poured her some water and she sipped.

“I’m all right. Really.”

She looked better. At least conscious again, Olivia thought.

“I stood still for too long. And I’ve had a little bit of a stomachache lately. Sorry. That was incredibly silly.” She reassured her brother, but turned to Olivia, still staring unnaturally. “Forgive me, Lady Olivia. That was ill timed.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I have made your brother cringe at the sight of me, so I am more than accustomed to my effect on people,” Olivia admitted, grimacing.

“I cower regularly,” Nathan confessed, causing his wife to laugh and Olivia to gasp. The others laughed at Olivia. She tried to accept it graciously.

“Well,” Samuel said. “I know how you don’t like to be the center of attention, Allie, but I have something for you, and now seems as good a time as any to give it.”

Olivia watched as he brought out jewelry boxes he had hidden in a drawer nearby. She already knew what was inside. They were for his sister!

Elizabeth moved closer to see as Samuel’s sister opened the first box. Both women gave a sharp intake of breath. The duchess lifted the bracelet and fit it over her wrist. “It’s exquisite, Samuel.” Then she turned from the group and pulled up her sleeve before fitting it over her wrist. She turned back to display it, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at her brother. “It fits perfectly.” She hugged him. “Thank you, Samuel.”

“Open the rest!” Elizabeth sat next to her to see the next surprise.

“Women and jewelry,” the duke said. “Good thing you’re her brother, Stafford.”

“It’s her wedding gift,” Samuel explained.

“I love getting married!” Alex said. The group laughed.

“I hope you’re not intending to do it more than once, my love.” The duke pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and her smile sparkled brilliantly.

“Of course not,” she replied. “Would you mind if I changed? I’ll be quick.”

The others nodded.

“I’ll help you.” Olivia rose to join her. “There’re likely few maids around.”

The duchess hesitated, then nodded agreement.

The women hurried to the duchess’s suite, and Olivia watched as the woman tore through clothes. “Now I don’t have anything to wear,” she complained. Olivia followed her to a trunk and caught material as it came flying at her. Finally Alex stopped on an apple green and pale brown dress with cap sleeves and scooped neckline.

“This one,” she stated. “The jewels will shine perfectly with these colors.”

“I concur, Your Grace.”

“You must call me Alex.”

“I cannot.” She’d responded without thinking.

“Why?”

Olivia paused. Samuel’s sister looked … hurt. “It’s just not how I was raised,” she explained. “It sounds strange. Some things are too ingrained.”

“Oh.”

Olivia suddenly felt remorseful at the woman’s confused glance. The duchess went behind a screen and switched dresses. She came out with most of her back buttoned.

“I can do that, Your Grace.” The duchess turned hesitantly, then fixed her hair over her neck to allow Olivia access. Samuel’s sister stood stiff, and Olivia thought perhaps she was a modest woman. She hadn’t accounted for that. It didn’t go along with her image as a swashbuckling female sea captain. However, nothing about this woman made sense with what she’d envisioned.

“Let me put your hair up. It will show off—”

“No!”

Her Grace spun around, protecting her hair.

Strange.

“No, thank you,” she corrected. “I like my hair down.”

“Of course.” Olivia didn’t know what to say to that, so she went to what was on her mind. “Your Grace? Tonight when I entered the dining room … it seemed as though you knew me from somewhere.”

“We’ve never met.”

“I know. I would remember it,” Olivia said. “Still, it was as if you knew me.”

The duchess paused in her toilette and spoke directly, her body still, her eyes piercing Olivia—searching, it seemed, for an answer. “I thought for a moment I did recognize you,” she said. “From a dream. And … I wondered in that moment … if we control our destiny, or destiny controls us.”

“You prefer the former.”

“I prefer a choice.” Then she laughed, her mood changing entirely. “However, I came here, so perhaps I made the wrong choice.” She shrugged. “I have been under the weather of late. Ignore my musings. They are nothing. Do you care for my brother?”

Samuel’s sister changed the subject—the woman was expert at it—only, this was a topic where Olivia was still unsure.

“You stumble. That’s not good. My brother is the kindest, most generous and honorable man in the world—next to my husband, Joshua. My father is generous, but Samuel is kinder. Matthew is kind, but withholds his heart. Stephen is still learning the cost of honor. Samuel,” she revealed, “already knows it. And he would never hold back loving or forgiving someone. That’s why he is unique among all men I have known. He knows every day is important.”

Olivia swallowed hard. Samuel had a strong advocate in his sister. “He has said equally good things about you, Your Grace.”

“Of course.” She grinned with confidence. “He’s my brother. I saw the way he looked at you. That’s how I knew you were not a man. Your disguise is very good.” She held out her hand for Olivia to clasp the bracelets. “And he’s uncommonly sensitive and thoughtful.”

Olivia gasped. The duchess’s wrist was scarred as if the flesh had been torn from her bone. Olivia looked up to find sharp green eyes staring back at her hard and unflinching.

“I tell you all this because, while I never said anything to him, he knew. He knew I could not bear for my skin to be seen and gaped at by strangers.”

The way Olivia had just done. Brilliant.

“Look again.”

Olivia did, though it pained her to see the distorted skin.

The duchess continued. “The bracelet covers the scars completely, save this longer one.” She indicated a thin pale line inside her forearm. “But that’s not so bad.”

“What happened?”

Her Grace held out her other wrist for Olivia to clasp the second bracelet. It wasn’t damaged as badly.

“I was injured.” She paused. “It’s not as bad, in comparison to—”

“In comparison to what?” Olivia was outraged.

The duchess shrugged her elegant shoulders again. Olivia decided it was best not to pursue that question. She took the necklace from its case. “This one clasps in the front. Very unusual for the choker style,” Olivia said.

The duchess met her eyes in the mirror, and suddenly Olivia had a feeling that the choker was meant to cover something as well. It made sense with her preference for keeping her hair down. Olivia handed the necklace over so the woman could do it herself. Indeed, she very discreetly slid it under her hair and clasped it in the front before going behind the screen again to another mirror, where she fixed her hair. Olivia’s curiosity increased.

“I see how you are looking at me,” the duchess said from behind the screen. “People always look at me that way,” she said, returning. “As if there is something wrong with me. Or I am strange.”

Olivia almost tried to deny it, but it was true. She had been curious about Alexandra Stafford the moment her name began to circulate among the ton. And though she didn’t know her well enough yet to say, she rather thought the woman might be strange—relatively speaking.

“There are many dangers in the world, Lady Olivia,” Samuel’s sister said. “You have lived a safe life. Be careful of what choices you make now.”

“You’re warning me.” Olivia stiffened.

“Yes. You don’t know the dangers you are walking into.”

“I’m fully aware. My father told me they were matters of life and death. I don’t take that lightly.”

“No. I don’t think you would. But what you don’t know, Lady Olivia”—the duchess paused to make sure she was paying attention—“is how slowly one can be made to die.”

A cold shiver ran down Olivia’s spine. No, that was not a possibility that had occurred to her and not one with which she wanted to become familiar. But she fully intended to find her father, whatever it took.

The duchess nodded to herself. As if she had done her duty. She displayed her wrists.

“Samuel also has impeccable taste, does he not?”

“Yes, yes.” Olivia waved a hand over the jewelry. “A man of such perfection has never walked the earth before.”

His sister laughed and winked at her. “Let’s not go that far.”

Samuel was surprised when Olivia and Alex returned to the celebration in good time. He had been a little worried about having the two of them alone in the same room, but both appeared calm and in good health.

“The lady professor and I have returned,” Alex announced.

Worthington studied his wife to see how she was feeling. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “Look.” She lifted her wrists, and Worthington held them for examination. “I feel normal again.”

Samuel’s throat caught.

“Perfect. But equally perfect without jewels, my love.” Worthington kissed near both wrists, then her forehead, nodding his thanks to Samuel over her head.

Samuel felt a tentative hand on his arm. He looked down, and Olivia gave a brilliant smile. Whether to distract him or comfort him, it did the trick. His stomach clenched in reaction. He put a hand over hers and studied the storm-colored eyes, his thumb discreetly caressing her wrist for an instant before he stepped away, cautious of any inappropriate displays.