His Wicked Heart (18 page)

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Authors: Darcy Burke

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #Fiction

BOOK: His Wicked Heart
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“They didn’t leave together. Lord Saxton
departed by himself,” Olivia said, not at all appreciating Lady
Lydia’s innuendo.

Lady Lydia’s laughter tinkled like tiny
shards of glass bouncing upon the wood floor. “Audrey, I do believe
Olivia might be as cognizant of Saxton’s movements as you are.”

Olivia hoped her embarrassment didn’t reflect
in her face. Lady Lydia had her flustered. First she wanted Olivia
to share what she knew of Jasper then mocked her for noting his
exit.

“Really, you have no idea who Saxton plans to
marry?” Lady Lydia asked. “Surely you must know something. At least
a tidbit that might encourage or,” her lips made an exaggerated
frown, “dissuade dear Audrey.”

How could Audrey call this harpy her dearest
friend? “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” She directed this at Audrey,
injecting as much sympathy as possible into her tone.

Audrey smiled shyly. “It’s all right. The
most I was hoping for was perhaps a dance. If Saxton paid me just a
bit of interest, it might stir others.”

How…sad. And manipulative. And clever. But
really, what else did these girls have to do besides find a
husband? Clearly the primary objective was to snare the best mate
possible, with a title and wealth at the top of the list of
requirements. The entire endeavor was incredibly mercenary. Olivia
wasn’t certain she wanted to participate, but neither was she
certain her dream of a dress shop was enough anymore. Life with
Louisa had shown her something she’d been missing: the love of a
family.

“Well, here comes our answer.” Lady Lydia
gestured toward the door with her fan.

A beautiful young woman with dark brown hair
and the most exquisite ball gown Olivia had yet seen entered. Seed
pearls were stitched into the bodice of the dark yellow silk and
the skirt hung in a graceful drape to the floor. This was an
example of excellent fashion on a splendid form. “Is that Lady
Philippa?”

“Yes, and her mother.” Lady Lydia sighed
rather loudly. “I suppose that means she’s not been caught in some
scandalous tryst with Saxton.”

Olivia nearly choked.

Audrey elbowed her friend. “Saxton would
never do that! Haven’t we already established his behavior is
without reproach?” The speed with which Audrey leapt to Jasper’s
defense was sweet, if not a tad misguided. Olivia couldn’t disagree
that he was extremely well-mannered, but ‘without reproach?’

A very tall, slender man with graying brown
hair approached them. “Lydia, I’d wondered where you’d gotten off
to. It’s time to pay your respects to your grandmother.”

Lady Lydia rolled her eyes—clearly one of her
favorite expressions, Olivia was quickly coming to note.
“Grandmother won’t know if I’ve paid my respects or not.”

The gentleman smiled placidly. “Nevertheless,
it makes me happy.” He tilted his head toward Audrey. “Good evening
Miss Cheswick, and…” His voice trailed off as he looked at Olivia.
His eyes widened briefly. “My goodness, you’re the image of…oh,
never mind, pardon me.” The barest hint of color swathed the high
arc of his cheeks.

“Father, this is Lady Merriweather’s cousin,
Miss Olivia West. Does she remind you of someone?” Lady Lydia
asked, the inner tips of her faint blonde brows nearly
touching.

Lord Prewitt scrutinized Olivia for a moment.
“Miss West, you say? Pleasure to meet you, Miss West.”

Something about his intrusive gaze troubled
Olivia. She felt certain he’d been about to say she looked like the
infamous actress Miss Scarlet. She hadn’t considered her
resemblance to her mother and she really ought to have done.

“Come along, Lydia,” he said. “Time to
appease your grandmother.”

Lady Lydia tugged at Audrey. “You have to
accompany me.”

Audrey blinked, looking as if she’d rather do
anything but. In the end, however, she offered Olivia a sheepish
smile and followed her friend.

Mr. Lyle was making his way toward Olivia.
Her stomach sank past her knees. Not only was she about to dance
with an absolute reprobate, she might be in danger of becoming
tonight’s latest
on-dit
.

Mr. Lyle stopped before her. “Shall we take
to the floor, Miss West?” He grinned, revealing rather crooked
teeth.

Because there was nothing to be done to solve
either of her problems, Olivia did the only thing she could, the
thing she most recalled from her upbringing at the vicarage: she
held her head high.

And prayed.

Chapter Ten

 

 

THE FOLLOWING day, Olivia and Louisa traveled
to Benfield, one of the Duke of Holborn’s many estates. Just a
short distance outside London bordering Hampstead Heath, Louisa
declared it her favorite place aside from Merriweather Hall, which,
of course, was no longer hers, having passed to the new
viscount.

Apprehension twisted Olivia’s nerves in
anticipation of her first riding lesson, but more importantly
because of her designated instructor: Jasper.

They turned onto the long, oak-lined drive.
Olivia surveyed the gorgeous parkland surrounding the manor. She’d
never seen an estate so grand, let alone visited one. “Benfield is
beautiful.”

Louisa tipped her head up to look at the
large house at the end of the drive, and blinked her eyes against
the brilliant sunlight. “We spent every summer here—Holborn and me.
It’s hard to imagine now, but we filled many afternoons rolling
down that hill there.” She gestured to a slope leading away from
the manor.

Olivia could see Louisa playing among the
manicured lawns, but the duke? She scarcely believed he’d been a
child at all.

Louisa laughed softly. “You’re thinking
Holborn couldn’t possibly have frolicked. His instep is much higher
now. Our father had little tolerance for frivolity. Much as my
brother in his adulthood.”

Olivia wondered if Jasper had been a playful
child, and like his father, no longer indulged his lighter side. “I
imagine the responsibilities of a duke are great.”

Louisa waved her hand as if swatting at a
fly. “Bah. Greater perhaps in Holborn’s mind than in reality. Yes,
he has duties. Yes, a vast number of people rely on him, but I
don’t believe his title is his most important role.” Her smile was
regretful. “I suppose that’s because I don’t have children of my
own. I should think being Jasper’s and Miranda’s father would be
the most important thing, especially since James died.”

Olivia looked at her with sharp curiosity.
“James?”

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know, dear.
Jasper’s elder brother. He died of fever when he was nine and
Jasper just seven.” She paused a moment in which her eyes dropped
to her lap, and her lips pressed together as if she recalled a
somber memory. “Holborn never recovered from losing him. I suppose,
in a way, Jasper may not have either.”

Olivia had noted the tension between Jasper
and his father. Was it because of James? She felt a pang of sorrow
for Jasper. To lose a brother, particularly so young, was
heartbreaking.

The open carriage drew to a halt before
Benfield’s warm sandstone façade. A footman helped them down.

“Are you ready for your riding lesson?”
Louisa asked.

Not particularly
.

They walked around the house to the stable,
Olivia’s new riding boots crunching in the shell-mixed dirt. A
decrepit old man shuffled toward them. “Louisa, dearie.”

“Carter!” Louisa hugged the tiny man before
turning back to Olivia. “Carter has been working in this stable
since I was a child. He put me on my first pony.”

“Aye, that I did. Boots was a fine animal.”
He grinned, revealing nearly toothless gums. “We’re saddling Tilda
up for ye now.”

“Carter could catalogue every horse in the
stable over the past sixty-some years.” Louisa tossed a wink at
Olivia. “Tell us, who do you recommend for Miss West? She’s never
ridden before.”

Olivia, however, did not feel so carefree.
Though outfitted in a brand new riding habit—the only garment she’d
consented to have made for her—she was harboring second thoughts
about getting on a horse.

Carter tugged his chin a moment. “Tulip, I
think.”

A horse called Tulip? She certainly sounded
docile. Carter made his way back into the stable, presumably to
notify whomever was readying the horses.

Louisa adjusted her jaunty hat against the
glare of the sun. “If you and Tulip get on well, perhaps I’ll ask
Holborn if we can take her back to Town with us. That way you’ll
have a mount for the park.”

Olivia doubted she’d be ready for a ride
across the drive—let alone in the park—any time soon, but didn’t
voice her concern. More than that, despite her extremely brief
acquaintance with the duke, she had little faith he’d allow them to
take his horse anywhere.

“I’m a bit nervous, Louisa.”

“Don’t worry, dear. Jasper will be back soon
and there’s no finer horseman, including the duke. Though he’d
bitterly dispute that.” She chuckled.

Was Jasper a willing participant in today’s
lesson? Olivia didn’t think he’d refuse his aunt’s request, but he
still didn’t trust her. And, of course, she’d given him no reason
to.

She feared the investigator he’d sent to
Newton Abbott would discover the lie she and Louisa were
perpetrating. Lord Prewitt’s near-recognition at the Faversham Ball
had set her even more on edge. She was only waiting for someone to
point at her and call out, “Charlatan!”

She’d put off asking Louisa about sharing
their secret with Jasper because she hadn’t wanted to presume too
much. Despite the speed with which they’d formed a close bond,
Olivia didn’t know Louisa that well. But the time had come for
Olivia to voice her query. “Might we tell Jasper that I’m Merry’s
daughter?”

Louisa shook her head. “I’m afraid not. It’s
best only you and I know.”

Olivia would feel much better if Jasper
knew—and accepted—the truth. She much preferred him as an ally
instead of an enemy trying to thwart her. Perhaps if Louisa
understood why Olivia wanted to tell him, she’d change her mind. “I
don’t think he trusts me.”

“Oh, ignore him dear. Sometimes he’s more
like his father than he realizes—look at how he reacted when he
first met you. I love my nephew very much, but he’s been schooled
to keep himself from scandal. I’m not at all sure he’d accept you
into the family if he knew you were Merry’s bastard.” She paused a
moment, her brow furrowing. “He hasn’t been cruel to you, has he? I
shall speak to him at once if that’s the case.”

“No.” Olivia didn’t want Louisa to talk with
him unless she planned to disclose the truth. Any other encounter
might incite him to reveal Olivia’s background, particularly that
she’d tried to trick him. Better if she just continued to weather
his distrust.

Louisa gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. Her
gaze moved past Olivia. “Ah, here he is now.”

Olivia turned. A lone rider crested the hill
behind the stable. He raced down the slope, his thighs hugging the
animal. They seemed to move as one.

“Such excellent form,” Louisa remarked with
pride. “But then his father made certain he is the best.”

He reined his horse to a halt in the stable
yard and dismounted. The actions were fluid, as if he’d performed
them thousands of times. Dressed in buff riding breeches and a
forest green coat, he looked every bit the charismatic country
gentleman.

Jasper moved forward with a dazzling smile.
Olivia couldn’t keep her stomach from flipping in response. “Good
morning, ladies. You’ve chosen a fine day to enjoy Benfield.”

Carter led a horse from the stable. A dark
brown that was nearly black, the animal held its head high,
presenting a regal air. Another groom led a second, smaller horse.
This one was the color of caramel with a flowing dark mane and
sweet brown eyes.

Louisa patted Jasper’s arm. “Carter’s saddled
Tilda for me and recommended Tulip for Olivia. You will, of course,
instruct Olivia since she’s a novice.” Hadn’t Louisa notified
Jasper of her plan to have him provide the riding lesson?

Jasper arched a brow at Olivia. “I see.”

She couldn’t tell if he wanted to
participate. Suddenly self-conscious, she said, “Unless you’re
busy…”

“Oh no, dear.” Louisa chuckled. “You aren’t
getting out of it. Jasper’s delighted to share his skills. Riding
is one of his very favorite things. Perhaps his most favorite, in
fact.”

He looked at Olivia, his clear blue eyes
vibrant in the morning sun. “Indeed. It’s no trouble. I look
forward to teaching you.”

He helped his aunt—currently sporting a
cheeky grin—mount Tilda, which she accomplished with absolute
grace. In spite of her youthful advantage, Olivia couldn’t hope to
emulate the elegant movement. She fingered the bulky skirts of her
riding habit trying to imagine how to get everything situated while
angling her legs just so.

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