The Forsaken Love of a Lord (13 page)

Because if there was one certainty in all of this mess, it was that Lord Langley was forbidden.

With a heavy melancholy spirit, Olivia wordlessly made her way toward her home. Needing some time to think, she meandered around, taking a few side streets till she was certain that she could keep herself under control and her face unreadable.

The very last thing she wanted was for her mother to question her.

That
would be a nightmare.

As Olivia entered her house, she removed her bonnet and began to walk toward the library. As she rounded the corner, she stopped short, her eyes widening in shock. Quickly, she jumped back behind the corner and peeked around, blinking rapidly, questioning her eyesight.

Because what she saw was utterly impossible.

Lord Langley was shaking her father’s hand.

Her father.

Lord Langley.

Shaking. Hands.

There was no shouting, no threats of a duel, no calling of the servants to cast the lord out of the Pierce house and on his ear.

Then, as if fate were testing her ability to believe in the miraculous, her mother joined them, a hanky in her hand as she dabbed her eyes and smiled,
smiled
at Lord Langley. Though her expression held an edge of something deeper. She reached out and touched his sleeve in a familiar fashion. He stiffened, and she removed her hand. It was all quite strange.

What in heaven’s name had just occurred?

Unable to resist such a momentous occurrence, she straightened her shoulders and left her hiding spot. More than a little skeptical, she approached them slowly, her eyes narrowing as her father noticed her.

His expression was blank.

Glancing to her mother, she felt her brow furrow as her mother’s gaze assessed her, a puckering to her brow as if curious about something. Looking back to her father’s face, she saw a bleak acceptance.

Her gaze shifted to Lord Langley. As if feeling her scrutiny, he turned. His face was just as expressionless as in the park, but there was something darker, something that both excited yet frightened her that swirled in the tempestuous depths of his eyes.

“Langley, I’ll be sure to notify you when the final arrangements are made,” her father spoke, drawing her attention. Though he directed his statement to Langley, his eyes were focused on Olivia.

Olivia felt a shiver of premonition tickle her spine.

“Yes, yes. And thank you, Lord Langley. We’ll be in touch.” Her mother’s more effusive tones were anything but comforting.

Lord Langley bowed crisply to her mother and then turned, facing Olivia. “Until later,” he murmured. His gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips, then lower as if studying her frame.

Later? As in… “Pardon?” Olivia felt herself say.

Lord Langley’s lips twitched slightly.

She raised an eyebrow, daring him.

Clearing his throat, he shot her an amused glance and took his leave.

She watched as he left, his broad shoulders cutting a fine figure.

“Olivia?” Her father’s voice broke through her admiration.

“Yes?” She reluctantly turned to face him.

“Please accompany me to my study.” He rocked on his heels and waited for her to precede him into the rich wood-paneled room. The sound of swishing skirts alerted her that her mother was close behind. Taking a deep breath, she heard the door click shut. Her father walked around to sit behind his mammoth mahogany desk, gesturing to the seats before him. Olivia and her mother each took a seat, her mother still regarding her coolly.

“I find myself… confused,” Olivia started. “Not that I object to Lord Langley being in our home. It just comes rather… unexpectedly.” She amended, lest they suspected anything.

“I must say that this day has brought about a most unexpected turn of events. Her father sighed and leaned back in his chair. Folding his hands over his chest, he began to explain.

“Not an hour ago, Lord Langley came to the door requesting a meeting. Being quite shocked at his invitation, I admitted him in and listened to what is likely the most astonishing and twisted tale I’ve ever heard. I trust that the particulars will be laid out eventually, at least the ones that are necessary. However, one conclusion was reached.”

“Oh?” Olivia’s gaze darted between her parents, impatiently waiting.

“We are free of the threat of scandal!” her mother all but shouted.

Olivia glanced back to see her mother smiling happily and waving her handkerchief in the air as if celebrating.

“That is wonderful.” Olivia smiled, thankful that her family was no longer under such a dark veil of a threat. Yet, as she looked back to her father, she felt the smile slip from her face in light of the dark expression clouding his eyes.

“Freedom is never free, Olivia. He asked a price. I was — am — reluctant to abide by it, yet I see no choice.” He stood and walked toward the fire, pacing.

“What price?” Olivia’s mind was spinning. Had he asked for such a large sum of money that they were now penniless? It didn’t matter to her, at least not much. She would be thankful if they couldn’t keep their home in London, smelly wretched place that it was.

London that is.

Not the house.

“Before I tell you, you must understand that I have his utter oath that no harm will come to you.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” her father answered, toneless.

“I don’t understand.” Olivia felt her face scrunch up in impatient curiosity, yet a pang of warning sent shivers down her spine.

“In order for him to… turn over the questionable documents and items that could implicate your sister and ruin our family…” Her father eyed her, as if conveying the deep meaning of those very things. “…he asked, in return, for you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. He left to arrange for a special license, and you’ll be wed at St. George’s by the end of the week.”

“Wed? To Lord Langley?” Olivia asked, her mind spinning, unable to find traction in understanding what was taking place.

“Yes. And as I said, I have his utter promise that you will not come to harm—“

“Olivia, we had no choice,” her mother cut in. “If you only knew—“

“Then tell me!” Olivia demanded, using a bold tone. The situation was beyond confusing, not unwelcome, but sudden. A thousand questions blurred in her mind, yet what angered her the most was that she was a pawn in a circumstance to which she wasn’t even allowed to know the particulars. Obviously this had to do with Marybelle, yet she was still not allowed to know any semblance of detail! Anything that altered one’s life so monumentally — marriage, no less — should have honesty as a precursor! Shouldn’t it?

“That, my dear, we cannot do,” her father answered.

“Why?” she asked, hurt.

“Because he asked to be the one to explain,” her mother scoffed. “Regardless, we had no choice.”

Yet Olivia knew that wasn’t true.

No.

In truth, they could have left London.

They could have rusticated in the country.

But, to her mother, and sadly, to her father, London life was far more important than she dared comprehend. She felt betrayed by her parents. Indeed, her heart hammered with the awareness and anticipation that Lord Langley would be her husband — but it was a bitter edge to know that she was simply… sold. Had her parents known her attachment to the forsaken lord, and then they had accepted his terms, that would be one thing. A blessing even. Yet for them to not know and to choose to pawn her off in order to save their own reputations hurt.

A tear pricked her eye, yet she fought it back.

“Is there anything further?” she asked, toneless.

She glanced to her father. He shook his head, excusing her with a dismissive wave of his hand, and she took her leave. As soon as she passed the threshold of the study, the tears began to pool and trail down her cheeks.

Blindly she rushed to her room, thankful to not intercept any servants on her way. Straightaway she entered her bedroom and closed the door. How was it that gaining the very thing she had wanted had turned into a nightmare?

Why did finally attaining Lord Langley’s attention, somehow feel like a sentence rather than a joy?

If she were honest with herself, she knew the answer.

Coupled with the betrayal of her parents, everything she knew about Lord Langley was either from several years ago, or through Mr. Sheppard.

And when he had approached her, he’d immediately drawn her into seclusion and kissed her senseless.

Not that she minded, but it did beg the question.

Was Langley after her? Or was this simply some elaborate scheme for revenge? Was this just the proof of the rumor? It wasn’t a secret how his love for her sister had grown to hatred after her death.

Was he exacting that very price from Olivia?

Her heart was broken because, as much as she feared his motives, she still rejoiced that she would be his.

Because, even if his attentions had been to deceive; hers had been in earnest.

As if finally finding her center, Olivia refused to cry any longer.

What was done was done.

In a way, she had succeeded — succeeded in a way she hadn't thought possible.

There was only thing left to do, and if she could achieve the impossible and have Langley as her husband, she should certainly be able to accomplish the final step.

After all, if someone was married her, it could not be that difficult to make them fall in love with her as well.

A ghost of a smile teased her salty lips.

Yes.

Lord Langley may be after revenge, but Olivia was after something far more dangerous.

His heart.

CHAPTER NINE

W
HILE WALKING THROUGH THE
park toward her house, he had thought he was imagining her voice. The soft call of his name on her lips had surely been some sort of wishful thinking. But when Edward turned and saw Miss Olivia approaching him, he’d realized he hadn’t been imagining anything; rather, for once, fate had been kind. Her soft blue eyes had searched his; innocent and comforting she’d seemed to be concerned… about him.

How long had it been since someone worried over his welfare?

Someone other than Curtis.

If she didn’t care for him in the least, then why would she concern herself with taking such a risk as approaching him in public? Granted it had been early — uncommonly early. However, there had still been people about.

After all,
he’d
been out and about, had he not?

Yet, she hadn’t seemed to even consider herself, and her gaze had been so intent he felt the need to glance away. Not out of insecurity, rather, it had boiled his blood to a fury in such a way that he hadn’t felt confident in his ability to keep his hands to himself, or honor her in the way she needed.

Especially after he’d easily recalled the lush taste of her mouth.

The soft molding of her body as his arms wrapped around her.

Bloody hell, he was aroused simply thinking about it, let alone seeing her!

Since there had not been alcoves where he could whisk her away and taste her once more, he’d done the only honorable thing.

Made polite conversation and excused himself.

Yet with every tilt of her head, all he saw was a tempting expanse of neck he’d like to kiss.

With every word she spoke, all he heard was sound coming from berry red lips, ripe for his taking.

With every shift of her body, all he could remember was her welcoming warmth.

So, at the soonest possible moment, he excused himself and all but ran to her family’s house. Even as he took the steps two at a time, he felt no fear or trepidation in the coming confrontation. Rather, he felt empowered, determined, and, for the first time, full of direction. It was within his ability to change his destiny, and hers as well. He wasn’t going to miss such a ripe opportunity. Hell no! He was going to take it by force if need be.

However, all that was needed was to reason. And her parents were quite willing to abide by his proposal. Especially when he withdrew the handkerchief and leather-bound journal.

Lord Pierce’s eyes widened, and he visibly paled. Lady Pierce choked back a sobbing sound as Edward rose and placed the items on the dark cherry-wood desk. Lord Pierce reached out then withdrew his hand. Plainly swallowing, he reached out again and took hold of the items. Setting the hanky aside, he flipped through the journal, his eyebrows drawn as he read several pages.

“I didn’t want to believe…” he whispered.

“Nor did I,” Edward responded.

Lady Pierce sobbed softly behind him.

“You, you are willing to turn these over to me?” Lord Pierce asked, needing affirmation of what Edward had stated earlier.

“Indeed, under the condition that you’ll agree that I may have Olivia as my wife.” Edward held his breath, his heart hammering in his chest as he spoke the words.

Lord Pierce speared him with a gaze, as if sizing him up and determining if the bargain was worth the price.

Apparently it was, for he gave his permission; though when her father asked for his word that no harm would come to Olivia, he almost swore aloud.

Never, ever would he allow a daughter of his to marry a man he even had to question in that department.

No.

Any lingering tolerance he possessed toward the Pierces evaporated. Giving his word, swearing it on his life, he rose and didn’t ask to be excused. Rather, he headed toward the door, only to find Lady Pierce beaming up at him with a thankful expression, and Lord Pierce striding toward him, his hand extended. As much as Edward had wanted to cut them, as his future inlaws — again — he swallowed his own ire and accepted the man’s hand.

Of course, that was when he noticed Lord Pierce’s attention was otherwise engaged. Following his line of sight, he saw the very woman he was to marry.

Though she didn’t know it yet.

Her expression was wary, confused. Yet a light of hope almost too faint to see danced in her eyes.

In that moment, all he wanted was to pull her into a tight embrace and speak with her, tell her the truth of everything.