Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (17 page)

Lydia smiled. “Who’s to say birds are not capable of being discreet. They were obviously exhibitionists of the worst sort.”

Olivia laughed, and Lydia’s spirits rose considerably. Perhaps it would not be difficult to rekindle their friendship.

“You’ve changed
,” Olivia said quietly.

Ah, and there it was, the conversation she had been hoping for and dreading at the same time. “As have you Mrs. Darling.”

“Yes,” Olivia smiled warmly.

“You have exactly what you wanted.
I’m happy for you, Olivia, and vastly curious about how you came to be married to your heart’s desire.”

“It was not without some difficulties
, I assure you, but I could not be happier. Well, at least, maybe I could if Devon were happy, too. Then my happiness would be complete.”

Lydia turned the words over in her mind
, and thought about what to say next. They were rounding a large shrub, and they would soon be out of sight of the house. Should she tread carefully or jump in with both feet?

“Olivia…” She hesitated.

Olivia stopped and turned to face her. “What is it you wish to ask me, Lydia?”

“I want to be the one who cares for Devon. I have a lot to make up for
, and I cannot do that if I am not able to see him.”

“Maybe he doesn’t wish to see you?”

“That is probably true, but I believe in time, he will forgive me if I can only show him how much I love him.”

Olivia looked away, her brow furrowed in distress. “There are a lot of questions to be answered
, Lydia. I just don’t know… What happened with Lord Caverly?”

“Nothing. Devon was seen leaving my house in the middle of the night and from that point on
we had eschewed all society. I believe my mother severed all notions of the courtship in a note to him that morning before we left for the cottage.”

“You lost your reputation?” She asked with sympathy.

“I don’t give a fig about my reputation,” Lydia said fiercely. “I made a terrible mistake the moment I let Devon walk out that door, and I know it. I lost my heart, ripped it from my own body.”

In her
mind, Lydia remembered that night, the moment she had given up on true love. Her whole being had screamed in defiance, but she remained as she was on the bed, torn from him by her own hands. The mere memory was enough to undo her.

“What do you intend to do?”
Olivia asked warily.

“Win him back. I know it is an uphill battle
, but I do not intend to lose. I will need your help, Olivia. You must believe that I am only here for Devon’s happiness; I believe I am an integral part of that happiness, and he is a vital part of mine. I will spend the rest of my life erasing every moment of pain I have caused him. I need your help, Livie,” Lydia begged.

Olivia turned away from her and hastily wiped away a tear. She began to climb the path
, and Lydia followed her silently. They did not speak one word until they crested the top of the hill and the crisp ocean breeze buffeted them in its jubilant stream. Together they looked out towards the water. A small swath of beach could be seen, and a lone fisherman in a dingy bounced in the surf.

“Devon has been through so much. I’ve never seen him like this
,” Olivia confessed.

Lydia turned her head to look at her
, but Olivia had her gaze focused on the water.

“Will you help me?”

“You have to understand what he went through, Lydia—the opium, the self-hatred. He is quite content to be a miserable, insufferable ass for the rest of his life, all because of you,” Olivia finally turned to her. “He doesn’t want you, he doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want anyone. He doesn’t want to be happy, Lydia.”

“I love him, you love him,
and he is surrounded by people who love him. We cannot let him remain this way.”

“You are the one who hurt him!” Olivia accused.

“All the more reason why it should be me who heals him, and we can heal each other.”

“I want my brother back, my parents… they want their son back. Promise me Lydia; promise me you won’t ever hurt him again.” Tears now streamed down Olivia’s cheeks.

“I promise,” Lydia vowed. “But I will need your help.”

The girls returned to the house, arms linked, and smiling as they used to. Lady Ellsley and Lady Covvington smiled warmly at the sight as they passed through the parlor.

“That’s a good
start,” remarked Lady Ellsley.

“Yes
, indeed. Lydia has been forlorn without Olivia’s friendship. Their personalities complement each other, I dare say. How is Devon, might I ask?”

“He is a far cry from his old self. These past few months have certainly left their mark
, and I’m afraid they will fade with time, but will remain quite permanent. All we can do is hope for the best.”

“Lydia has proven quite resilient these past few months. I pray she will succeed
, and they can mend the rift between them.” Lady Covvington confessed.

“I will say
, I was surprised when you wrote to me about the situation. I myself had no idea they had forged such a connection. I had begun to hear rumors and then poof—he disappeared. Add in Olivia’s exploits, and I feel as though I’ve lost all control of my children. “

Lady Covvington has fairly curious about how Olivia came to be married so quickly and quietly
, but did not want to pry. If all went as planned, the two families would be joined in marriage, and maybe in time, she could ask, but for now, she remained silent on the subject. “Where have the gentlemen taken themselves off to this morning?”

“To inspect a fence or some
such. We were certainly surprised by Olivia’s marriage, but whole-heartedly pleased with the outcome. Mr. Darling is a fine young man from a fine family.”

“I can certainly see the appeal beyond family. I will admit I was hesitant when I discovered Lydia had given her heart to a young man such as Devon. I myself had fallen prey to a handsome young lord
, and bear the weight of his indiscretions to this day. How I wished for something different for her, to spare her my fate but alas …”

Lady Ellsley
raised her chin a notch.

“Do not take offense
, Ann. Not long ago, I thought Devon was cut from the same cloth as my errant husband, but tis not so. Beyond Devon and Lydia, only I know the heart ache of that night. Devon is a much better man than my husband ever was. He cares a great deal for my Lydia, more so than a mother can even hope for in a marriage. I feel such guilt. Had I not filled her with such thoughts against marrying a handsome young man, she and Devon would have been a true love match. They would have married with all the pomp and fuss we would have insisted upon, and I feel as though it is my fault he has come to such an end.”

Ann reached over and took Lady Covvington’s hand. “We cannot see the future nor control the actions of others. Do not bear that burden. Devon is his own man and his actions are his own. All we can do for our children is give them love and support.”

“Oh, how I wish otherwise.” Lady Covvington sighed heavily.

“As do I.”

Devon dismissed his valet after a bath and shave. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he missed having a clean smooth jaw. He
did like sporting longer hair, much to his valet’s chagrin; it was almost long enough to tie back, but not quite. He felt better overall, although Olivia had yet to bring his bloody breakfast. Was she trying to starve him? Given his attitude of late, he probably deserved it. He sat in the chair beside the fireplace, and melted into the back. His energy was still flagging, but it was getting better. The bath alone had fatigued him. There was a knock on his door.

“It’s about bloody time
,” he muttered as the door opened, and a female pushed through with her back while balancing a tray with his breakfast. No Olivia?

He turned his back to the woman as she
entered, and directed her to put the tray on the small table by his chair. He heard the clatter of the tray being set down but not the sound of her leaving. “You may go, I can feed myself, thank you,” he snapped.

Still no sound. He spun around in agitation, prepared to bite the maids head off and froze. It was Lydia, hair pulled back, apron over
a simple white day dress, and looking lovelier than the day was long.

“What are you doing here,” he growled
, “and for god’s sake, why are you wearing an apron?”

“I was warned you can be rather unruly, so I came prepared.” She raised a challenging brow.

Devon narrowed his eyes as he stepped closer to her, and was rewarded with her sharp intake of breath. He looked down and inspected the food. “No bacon?”

“It was all gone. I could have the cook make more?” She smiled sweetly.

“I’ll survive.” He stalked around her and sat in his chair, pulling the tray onto his lap.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?

Devon looked at her hotly and just stared. A vibrant pink blush infused her cheeks, and she looked away. She began to fuss with the bed hangings, and studiously avoided meeting his gaze. He watched her carefully as he ate and drank in the sight of her. It was bitter sweet. His eyes feasted on the reality of what his mind had longed to recreate in his dreams. She was here and he was afraid to know why. Was it to save her reputation? He was even more afraid that if that were true, he would eventually give in, but not before dishing out his own brand of torture.

“You’re wasting your time
, Lydia. Whatever it is you seek to get from me, I will not give.”

Her hands froze in the process of tying back a panel of drape. “All I want is time
, Devon. Perhaps you will find it in yourself to forgive me?”

Devon snorted. “I don’t believe I am the forgiving sort.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“You may as well save us from the frustration
and just leave, Lydia.” He speared some eggs viciously.

“No. Be as nasty as you want
, but I told you I am not giving up,” she said vehemently. “I’m to be the one seeing to your needs. You can make this difficult or you can make this easy, but either way, I am here to prove that I love you and that you still love me.”

“Do not speak of love to me when not long ago you cared so little for it
."

“And I freely admit I was wrong. I was extremely wrong.” She walked over to his chair and stepped before him. “Can you not believe me?”

He refused to look up. He didn’t want to be swayed by her limpid blue eyes. “I apologize if I haven’t been clear, Lydia,” he said sardonically. “I don’t want to believe you.”

“Why?”

“Just leave.”

“But Devon
—.”

“Get out!”

She backed away from him. “I’m sorry," she said quietly. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Devon scowled at his
half-eaten breakfast. His hunger evaporated, and it was replaced by the anger and turmoil that had been his constant companions for weeks now. And sneaking itself in like a knife between the ribs was a slice of guilt. He didn’t want to shout at her, he thought he no longer had the desire to hurt her like she hurt him, and yet angry words erupted unbidden. He pushed the tray onto the side table and stood. He walked to the windows and stared out over the grounds. He was agitated now, the muscles in his back tensed and bunched under his skin, and his neck felt hot. She was still there; he could feel her presence like a warm breath on the nape of his neck.

Was she truly sorry? Did those words mean anything to him?

“Why are you here, Lydia?”

“I told you
, but you refuse to believe me.”

“You have yet to give me a believable answer.”

“You are so stubborn,” she said in exasperation. “You want to believe I am here to save my reputation, and nothing more. Is that the kind of woman you claimed to love? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I thought I did too
, but I was a fool. You are, and always will be, that cold calculating woman who chose safety over love. You were just as stubborn—determined even—to catch yourself a quiet biddable husband.”

“The reality seems to suggest otherwise.
It’s true you ruined my reputation, but I don’t need to marry you, Devon, not in that sense. My mother and I are very willing to turn our backs on all polite society, and live permanently at Covvington Cottage. I am here because I want to be.”

Devon’s fists clenched at his sides. He once longed to hear those words
, but he refused to fall prey to such prose. He was growing weary again. Who knew emotion could be so draining? He staggered over to the bed and lay back against the pillows. From his periphery, he could see Lydia watching him with a worried frown.