The Elusive Wife (6 page)

“Perhaps you would care to join me some morning. I ride every day.”

Olivia panicked. It was bad enough being so close to him in a crowded room, but a ride with just the two of them was out of the question. Although visions of his head smacking into a low branch, and his unseated aristocratic arse landing in the mud did bring a pleasant smile to her lips.

“Unfortunately, my lord, I have brought no riding clothes with me.” She lifted her chin, ready to dismiss him and return to Elizabeth.

“Well here’s where you’ve got off to.” A tall handsome man, blond against Jason’s dark coloring, startled them both. He slapped Jason on the back and looked pointedly at Olivia. “May I have the pleasure of being made known to this lovely lady?”

Olivia and Jason both stood. “Lady Olivia, please allow me to introduce Lord Stafford.”

He bowed over Olivia’s hand. “Your servant.”

Olivia smiled at Stafford and turned to Jason. “I would like to return to Lady Lansdowne, my lord, but I’m afraid I don’t remember which direction to find her.”

“As you wish.” Jason held her elbow, and eased her through the throng, Lord Stafford on their heels.

Olivia breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Elizabeth anxiously scanning the crowd.

“Lady Lansdowne, a pleasure as always.” Stafford bowed to her. Elizabeth returned his smile and presented her hand for his kiss.

“Olivia, are you all right? You look a little flushed.” Her friend peered at her with concern.

Olivia didn’t think she would ever feel right again after this evening’s humiliation. If it wasn’t unladylike, she would relieve a passing footman of his empty tray and smack it against Lord Arrogant’s head. Let him make from that what he would.

“Actually, I do feel a bit lightheaded. Would you mind terribly if we left? I’m afraid I’m not yet used to the crowds.” She took Elizabeth’s arm.

Elizabeth patted her hand. “Not at all, I’ll have Grif summon the carriage.”

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, my lady.” Jason bowed to her.

“It’s nothing. Perhaps in time I will become accustomed to London.”

Elizabeth nodded at the two gentlemen and they made their exit.

“Elizabeth I think I’m going to faint.” Olivia panted as she grasped Elizabeth’s forearm.

“No you’re not,” she returned. “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

Truth be known, Olivia wasn’t used to the crowds of London. Or anywhere else for that matter. Having spent a quiet, contemplative life with her father, the smells and heat of the ballroom smothered her, gave her a feeling of not having enough air to breathe. How in heaven’s name did these people handle such events all the time? Right now she longed for the comfort and quiet of her room at Lansdowne House, a roaring fire, a cup of tea, and her favorite night rail.

The two women made their way through the crowd to the entrance hall. Elizabeth addressed a footman stationed at the door. “Will you please find a seat for Lady Olivia while I locate my husband? And please have Lord Lansdowne’s carriage brought around immediately.”

The young footman quickly provided a chair and Olivia sank into it.

What in heaven’s name am I going to do now? Coventry wants to accompany me on a ride?

A mere five minutes later Elizabeth returned, Grif on her heels. The women’s wraps handed over, the three descended the stairs, Grif solicitously holding firmly onto a now shaky Olivia.

“I’m so sorry to cut your evening short, my lord. I’m sure I can see myself home, and you can return to your entertainment.”

“Nonsense.” Grif tapped on the roof of the coach and they started forward. “Elizabeth will tell you I would much rather relax in my comfortable chair in front of the fire in my library, my wife by my side, than attend a ball.” He chuckled and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand.

Olivia leaned back and closed her eyes. The occupants of the carriage remained silent for the rest of the ride. In facing Jason again, it had never occurred to her he wouldn’t even remember her. Indeed he’d been very drunk at their wedding, and she had heard such conditions could cause memory loss, but to totally forget the woman he married? Oh, the indignity of it!

Her heart pounded to think of what she would do now. Olivia hadn’t planned beyond their actual first meeting where she would vent her righteous anger, then they would possibly come to some type of acceptable arrangement for both their benefits. But his ignorance of her identity left her stumped and angry. And somewhat hurt.

“I think I would like to go to my room. It’s been a long day.” Olivia winced with the pain in her head as she entered the house. The butler removed her wrap, and she ran her palms over her chilled flesh, trying desperately to warm up. But she knew the coldness came from a part of her that would probably never be warm again. The part that wanted desperately to be loved and cherished.

“Certainly, my dear, we’ll speak in the morning.” Elizabeth brushed her cheek, then sighed as Olivia hurried upstairs.

Chapter Six

Elizabeth trailed her husband to the library where he poured a brandy. He held up the sherry decanter and raised his eyebrows.

“No, thank you.”

He tugged at his cravat and pulled it free from his neck with a sigh. “At last, will you now tell me what the devil is going on? When did Coventry get married, and why in heaven’s name is his wife occupying one of my guestrooms?”

Elizabeth related a brief synopsis of Olivia’s sorry tale.

“Blast the man!” Grif grumbled. “How could he be so callous of the woman’s feelings?” He removed his jacket before joining his wife where she rested on the settee. Leaning back, he rested his foot on his opposite knee.

“Indeed.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It doesn’t seem like the Coventry we know. He’s always had a rakish reputation, but never have I seen, or heard, of him treating a lady with such a cavalier attitude. And his own wife!”

“Maybe I should speak with him.” Grif studied the brown liquid as he swirled it around the glass in his hand. “Lady Coventry is under my roof, so I feel a sense of responsibility toward her since there is no male relative to speak on her behalf.”

“No, I think not. Let’s see what Olivia says in the morning. She must have had a reason not to reveal herself tonight.” Elizabeth stared at a spot on the rug, nibbling on her bottom lip. “But we are having some revenge.” She turned to her husband, grinning. “We have purchased, and will continue to purchase, a complete new wardrobe. Wait until Coventry sees the bills! That should make him sit up and pay attention.” She giggled.

Grif placed his glass on the marble table next to him and cupped Elizabeth’s hands in his. “And you, my dear, have caught my attention by your loveliness. Shall we make use of the time we’ve been given by retiring early?” His eyebrows rose.

Heat suffused Elizabeth’s face as she contemplated the look in her husband’s eyes. Desire sparked there as he cupped her face with his hand and drew her near. They were a married couple with a child, yet his attentions continued to weaken her knees and release butterflies in her lower parts.

“Oh yes,” she breathed before he took possession of her mouth.

…

Olivia allowed Elizabeth to drag her from shop to shop on Bond Street the next morning. She smirked as her friend blithely informed shopkeepers to
deliver all bills to Lord Coventry
.

Mademoiselle DuBois bowed and fussed as soon as they entered the shop. Within an hour, fabrics of every color and texture littered the room. Elizabeth, Olivia, and the modiste poured over patterns and pictures. Shop girls and minor seamstresses hurried back and forth with new fabrics, new patterns. Olivia winced as she was stuck with pins and her body measured over and over. But that pain was minor compared to the hurt of last night’s encounter with Jason. Was she truly of such little worth?

“Are you sure we can do this?” Olivia bent to whisper in Elizabeth’s ear as they left Mademoiselle smiling brightly at the huge wardrobe Olivia had just commissioned her to sew.

“We can and we will. You are Lady Coventry and ’tis a disgrace you were left with no resources after your wedding,” Elizabeth sniffed, as she pulled her toward another shop.

“That’s not exactly true.” Olivia stopped, the milliner’s window catching her attention by a lovely pale green hat, with a saucy feather curling from the brim. “Mr. Meyer, Jason’s solicitor, sent me a letter while I was in Coventry and stated I had use of Lord Coventry’s funds for my purposes if I so wished.”

“See, there you have it. You have been given permission, so enjoy it.” Elizabeth turned to gaze at what had mesmerized Olivia, and gasped. “Oh, what a stunning hat. You must try it. It would be perfect with your new riding outfit.”

Olivia granted herself leave to try on several more hats, and then off to more shops as the day wore on. It was silly to feel guilty about all the money she spent, and she soothed her uneasy conscience by assuring herself Lord Coventry could certainly afford it. But somehow she couldn’t stop the niggling doubts and dismay at buying so much, and then charging it to a man who’d never wanted her for a wife. Indeed, didn’t even remember her.

“I think we deserve an ice at Gunter’s,” Elizabeth said as they left the small shop where they’d purchased cream colored kid gloves and white satin elbow length ones.

“Yes please, dearest, my feet have had enough.”

Gunter’s had a small crowd, but they were able to get seats close to the window. Olivia sighed as she sat, eased her shoes off, and bent to rub her heel. Truly unladylike to be sure, but it felt so good.

“Good afternoon, ladies. I’m guessing you have been visiting the shops?” Lord Coventry bowed slightly and smiled with his sensual lips at the two women enjoying their ices.

Olivia’s heart dropped to her stomach. The ice she savored turned to ashes in her mouth and she pushed it away.

“Yes, we have been. In fact, Lady Olivia has been having a wonderful time visiting the shops and replacing practically her entire wardrobe.” Elizabeth beamed at Jason.

Olivia put her spoon down, her eyes darting around the room, desperate for an escape.

“Indeed, have you, Lady Olivia?” He regarded her with a heart-stopping smile. “I hope you are feeling better today.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped.

His smile faltered, but recovering quickly, he said, “I was on my way to an appointment when I spotted you through the window and just had to stop and give you my regards.”

“It’s always a pleasure.” Elizabeth gave him a tight smile.

Olivia nodded.

“Ladies.” Jason bowed once more and took his leave.

Olivia released a huge breath. “Elizabeth, what am I going to do about this? I spent the better part of the night tossing and turning. I imagined all sorts of reactions from him when we met, but I never expected it to be complete ignorance.”

Elizabeth considered her for a moment. “I really don’t know what to say. My suggestion is to let things go the way they are and see what happens. One day Lord Coventry is going to have to come to terms with the fact that he’s left a wife who he thinks is tucked away in the country.”

Olivia sighed and gazed out the window at women of the
ton
who passed by, elegantly dressed, bejeweled, powdered, and followed by maids struggling with packages. They belonged to this world of London society.

Where in the world do I belong?

…

What was I thinking, going into Gunter’s to speak with Lady Olivia?
Jason chided himself as he stalked away from James Gunter’s Tea Shop. The problem was he hadn’t been thinking. Not with his brain, anyway. His attraction to the lady was far too dangerous. Even though he’d snapped at Drake when he’d reminded him of his marital status, his friend was right and Jason should stay far away from her. At least until he came to terms with what to do with the wife stashed at Coventry Manor.

The wife he’d never bedded.

The thought of an annulment had reared its head more than a few times since the disastrous morning of his wedding. Now that he’d calmed down, perhaps he should make a trip to Coventry Manor and discover how Lady Coventry felt about calling an end to this farce of a marriage.

Surely she would be amenable to the idea. Aside from their marriage vows, they hadn’t spoken two words to each other, and by now she must realize she’d married a cad. Since no one knew of the arrangement, they could seek a quiet annulment. He would do the gentlemanly thing and set her up with whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted, and they would be free.
He
would be free—to explore his attraction to the delectable Lady Olivia.

He cursed at the irony. After years of his father’s threats, he had finally found the woman he could imagine as his countess. Too late, thanks to the old earl’s machinations.

“I want you to investigate something for me.” Jason leaned back in the large leather chair behind his desk as he regarded young Mr. Meyer. Even though the solicitor was well into his fifties, Milton Meyer would forever be known as the ‘young’ Mr. Meyer, in deference to his father. David Meyer, founder of the business, passed on to his eternal reward some thirty years before.

“How may I be of service?” the man replied.

“I would like to know the possibility of securing a quiet annulment from Lady Coventry.”

The solicitor regarded him in frowning silence. “My lord, I would have to go over your late father’s will. I don’t remember offhand if there were any contingencies placed on the marriage. The Earl made that particular provision somewhat hastily—against my advice—I might add.” He cleared his throat briefly. “However, since parliament passed the Hardwicke Act, it is very difficult to obtain an annulment. The usual excuse of non-consummation is only acceptable if,” he lowered his voice, “the gentleman is unable to perform his husbandly duties.”

Jason opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “That will never do.”

The solicitor nodded. “I had no reason to believe it would, my lord.” He removed his spectacles, and rubbed them in concentration. “However, there is a clause that states if you were not in your right mind when you spoke your vows, that condition could be grounds for an annulment.”

“Are you saying if I contend I am crazy, I may be granted an annulment?” Jason said without a trace of humor.

“No, my lord,” Mr. Meyer hurriedly added. “But since your lordship was not, shall we say, completely sober when the vows were spoken, that may leave grounds to pursue an annulment. But, in any event, I would need to research if there were any conditions placed on the marriage to Lady Coventry via the terms of the will.”

Jason sat for a while, staring in the distance, then closed his eyes to press his fingers against them. “See what you can find out and keep me posted.”

As Jason moved to dismiss the man, the solicitor continued. “One more thing, my lord. I have been in contact with Coventry Manor since your ah—wedding—and I find it most peculiar Lady Coventry has requested no funds in all the time she has been there.”

Jason frowned and sat back down. “No funds?”

“None, my lord.” He shook his head.

A woman who had no need for funds? Who was this strange woman his father had foisted on him? “Had she funds of her own transferred from Italy?”

“Not that I was aware of. Although, it is indeed quite possible she retained her own solicitors to do so on her behalf. I find it odd she has requested nothing. Most unusual for a young bride.” He stared at Jason, his spectacles making his eyes large and disturbing.

“Yes, a mystery. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

The solicitor nodded his understanding, and left. What the devil was going on with the woman ensconced at Coventry? It remained hard to think of her as his wife.

Several hours later Jason entered White’s and spotted Drake, whom he had been searching for most of the evening. The Marquess had comfortably established himself in a substantial chair, his long legs stretched in front of him, his ankles crossed. He swirled amber liquid in a cut crystal snifter and smiled lazily at his friend.

“I wondered where you had got off to.” Jason sat across from him and signaled the footman to bring him a drink.

“Been here only an hour or so. Spent the best part of the night dodging the marriage-minded mamas at the Onslow ball.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry I missed it.” Jason leaned back and accepted a glass from the footman. He stared into the fireplace, thinking about his earlier conversation with the solicitor.

Drake studied his friend’s demeanor. “Indeed, since you are already leg-shackled.” When Jason didn’t respond to his jest, he said, “What are you looking so somber about?”

Jason studied the liquid in his snifter for a minute before answering. “Sent for my solicitor today.”

“And?”

Jason quaffed a healthy swallow and looked at Drake. “I asked him to investigate the possibility of an annulment.”

Drake didn’t answer, but continued to stare at him, which allowed him time to gather his thoughts.

Jason put the glass down, and closing his eyes, rotated his neck. “I don’t know what to do. I feel immense guilt toward the woman, but then anger pushes away the guilt, because I shouldn’t even be in this blasted position.”

“Neither should she. Why don’t you give the chit a chance? Go to Coventry, talk to her. It may turn out you like her. You may even suit.”

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “You’ve hit on the problem. I don’t feel as though she will be too eager to give
me
a chance. If she doesn’t hate me by now, there’s something the matter with her.” He sighed. “And then there’s the lovely Lady Olivia forever taunting me in the back of my mind.”

“Forget her, old man. She’s an innocent, and no one you should be dabbling with.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Jason snapped. “I’ve been trying to avoid her. I assume she was at Onslow’s tonight?”

“Yes.” Drake’s eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. “Surrounded by young bucks, all jockeying for a position. The lady had a partner for every dance.”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. The thought of Lady Olivia in the arms of another man made him want to punch something. He shook his head in wonder, never having had that reaction over a woman before.

Better get hold of yourself. You’ve a wife to contend with first.

“And a strange thing.” Jason sat forward. “My solicitor tells me Lady Coventry has not requested any funds the entire time she’s been in residence.”

Drake’s left eyebrow rose a fraction. “She’s not asked for anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you should not be so quick to rid yourself of a wife who requires so little.” He grinned.

“I’m serious. Something doesn’t seem right.”

“Agreed. You should see the stack of bills arriving daily at m’sire’s desk for m’sisters’ gowns, shoes and whatnots.”

Jason smiled at the vision of His Grace buried under a sea of demands for payment from the tradesmen in town.

“Can I suggest something?” Drake rose.