The Forsaken Love of a Lord (14 page)

The truth of himself.

Yet it wasn’t the time, he knew that. So, with a lingering gaze at the beauty who would soon be his, he took his leave, practically jogging home in all his nervous energy. They would have time to speak soon enough, though the first conversation wouldn’t be of the most romantic variety. If there was one thing he had learned about Olivia, it was her tenacity.

Which only reminded him that he owed Olivia the truth. Thankfully, he had also required from her parents that they be silent on the topic. If she were to hear the truth, it would be from his lips.

From his heart...

Now at home, he planned his next move. Yet the pent-up anxiety born of anticipation and fear was driving him mad. Disgusted with himself, he stood from the chaise in the library and strode to the window, seeing nothing but her face.

The face of his future wife.

Even now he wondered if he had made the right decision. In a way, he had trapped her. At first, he had only planned to ask for permission to court her. In fact, he’d had difficulty asking even
that,
till he’d seen her in the park.

Glancing to the clock, Edward noted that now he had time to secure the special license and arrange for everything at St. George’s. Thankfully, the wedding plans would consume some of his energy.

He shrugged on his coat and paused. He tugged impatiently on the lapels, then left. It was time to face his future, one that was no longer forsaken, grey, and bitter. But one of hope.

As long as he could convince his future wife that he was worth the effort.

Olivia waited impatiently as Maria took off her pelisse and entered the library, her expression curious and her eyes wide. “I came as quickly as I could after I received your missive! What in heaven’s name is going on?” she asked as she practically ran to the chair beside Olivia.

Olivia quickly relayed the particulars to her friend, who sat there with a fixed gaze, her eyebrows highly arched.

“No,” she remarked in a disbelieving tone.

“Yes.” Olivia nodded, reaching out to touch her friend’s hand tenderly.

“My. I-I, well… I never.” She leaned back in the chair, puffing out her cheeks in apparent shock. “Wait!” She shot back to a proper posture. “How are
you
taking this? Are you doing well? I know that you felt some affection toward the gentleman, but with all the secrecy, the fact that this is so sudden…” She shook her head. “…how are you able to sit there so calmly?” she asked, her tone slightly frustrated.

Olivia grinned. “I have a plan.”

“Of course you do.” Maria returned her smile, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “So? Are you going to tell me the plan?”

“I’m going to make him fall in love with me.”

Maria waited, an expectant smile on her face.

Olivia folded her hands on her lap and relaxed slightly in the chair.

“Er, is that the whole plan?” Maria asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh dear.”

“What?”

“You need more than that.
How
are you going to make him fall in love with you? Granted, if he’s asking for your hand, he’s likely already halfway there, but…” Maria shifted in her seat so that she was facing Olivia fully. “I’m aware that our friendship hasn’t been of the longest variety. However, I do know you well enough to say with complete certainty that you will not be happy in a marriage where you are not loved completely. You have a romantic spirit, Olivia. You need love. Not the simply the
hope
of it.”

“You know me well, but who is to say that I cannot achieve such a task?” Olivia questioned bravely. “I came to London with the goal of finding Lord Langley and, if possible, discovering the truth surrounding Marybelle’s death. I have achieved both goals, rather, the promise of them. And… I know the man he was
, before
everything happened. And
that
man wouldn’t have asked for my hand unless he felt some affection for me.” Olivia glanced down, clearing her throat. She smoothed her skirt and returned her gaze to Maria.

“I’m not convinced. What are you not telling me?” Her friend narrowed her eyes, studying her.

Olivia lowered her gaze, wanting to hide her own insecurities.

“Wait.”

Olivia glanced up to her friend.

Maria’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think… no. I’m sure I’m searching for something that isn’t there.” She put on a bright smile, clearly forced.

“Oh, Maria. You think far too much like me sometimes.” Olivia spoke in a subdued tone. “You’re likely thinking the very same thing I did at first. But you must understand I don’t have a choice. My father already gave his word, in fact, giving mine as well. I’m marrying Lord Langley. I will find out the truth, and I have to hope that he
does
have some affection for me. The only other excuse for his behavior is revenge, and I’ll not submit myself to such an option, regardless of the gossip that would imply that idea as the truth. Rather, I’ve decided to apply my energies to winning his heart. He’s already made progress stealing mine.” Glancing down, she almost missed the sympathetic expression her friend gave her. She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze once more.

“I see. And I honestly don’t believe he’d marry you to exact revenge. He’s far too reclusive to submit himself to the scrutiny such a move makes. Once London hears about what is transpiring, he will be the center of attention, a place he is rumored to not appreciate.”

“No, I don’t see him enjoying the attention, which is comforting. Thank you, Maria. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Maria reached out and pulled her into an embrace. ”When is the wedding?”

“I’m not sure. My father is arranging a few things and then will contact him, and they will agree on a date, though I believe it will be at the end of this week.”

“So soon? My, my… someone is in a hurry.”

“Apparently, though I wish I knew why.”

“Well, you are a determined sort. I’m sure you’ll discover it soon enough.” Maria grinned.

“Indeed.”

“Now, let us talk about your wedding.”

Edward Langley wasted no time in making the necessary arrangements and was pleased to find that, upon his return to his home, a note from Olivia’s father that stated he had also completed his errand.

It was done.

Edward felt his shoulders relax slightly upon reading the missive. Though he’d been certain that Lord Pierce wouldn’t go back on his word concerning Olivia, the nagging doubt had tickled his mind. It was a relief to put that final concern to rest.

Now for the wedding.

As if it were a small matter.

Of course, the ceremony would be quiet. But the news of the realignment of the families would be like a thunderclap, traveling through London at the speed of lightning. He knew he was opening himself up for complete scrutiny, yet he found that the unsavory thought didn’t offend too much. Dealing with the London
ton
would be child’s play in contrast with his true challenge: convincing Olivia to love him.

Resisting the urge to call himself ten kinds of fool, he simply focused on the present task. No doubt she’d be concerned that he was seeking her hand as some miserable excuse for revenge, and indeed, if he
were
bent on revenge as he once was, it would be a poetic justice.

But this wasn’t revenge.

This was grasping at a chance at hope.

At a chance at love.

Everything he once thought was forever out of reach.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the blue salon and rang for tea.

A short while later, a maid entered the room with a tray. After setting up the service, she curtseyed and excused herself, leaving him alone once more with his swirling thoughts.

All his musings were bringing forth a harsh truth.

He was miserably out of practice when it came to fairer sex.

“Ah! Tea! Just the thing.” Curtis strode in. After taking his hat off, he tossed it to the chaise and proceeded to remove his coat as well. He set the fine wool garment on the armrest of the settee, took a seat across from Edward, and served himself.

“Please, help yourself,” Edward replied with sarcasm, though he grinned. In truth, he was thrilled to see his friend. Because if there was one thing Curtis exceled at, it was women.

At least for short periods of time, till he got bored… but he’d surely have some insight into the dilemma with Olivia.

“Why so pensive, old man. Have you thought any further about what we discussed last night?” Curtis asked as he glanced at Edward over the teacup’s rim.

“Yes, I actually have made substantial headway,” Edward replied, leaning forward.

“Ah! So you’re going to court Miss Olivia?” Curtis asked, taking the teacup away from his lips just long enough to speak before returning the rim to his lips and taking a long drink.

“In a way. I’m going to marry her first. On Saturday.”

Curtis spewed tea across the table, coughing and sputtering as he reached for a napkin and dabbed his chin and clothes. “Pardon?” he asked between coughs.

“I already spoke with Lord and Lady Pierce, and they agreed to my proposal. I have the special license in hand, and we’re to be wed on Saturday.” Edward chuckled, as Curtis’ movements paused, his eyes widening before narrowing. “You don’t let any grass grow under your feet, do you? Bloody hell, you could have at least waited to spring that type of news on me until
after
I swallowed,” he grumbled.

“And miss the fun?” Edward chuckled.

“Indeed.” Curtis raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, though I must say that I will need ample time to lick my wounds and heal my broken heart.” Curtis sighed.

“If your heart were truly invested, you would have never even suggested what you did last night, and you’d be assaulting me with fists right now, rather than tea.” Edward gestured to the napkin Curtis still held.

“Perhaps. Or I’m just the giving sort.” He shrugged and tossed the napkin on the table.

“Of course.” Edward snorted.

Curtis rolled his eyes. “So the happy occasion is this Saturday? I take it that this is my invitation?” He wagged his eyebrows.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“How much you annoy me.”

“With my charming disposition? Impossible.” He shrugged and selected a biscuit. Taking a bite, he leaned forward as if remembering a question. “How did Miss Olivia take the news?” A grin grew on his face.

“I’m not sure at the moment…” Edward leaned back, his lips tight as he considered his task.

“You don’t appear to confident on that front. Having a spell of regret or simply… unequal to the task?” Curtis waved his biscuit and then took a bite.

“Task?”

“Of wooing your wife.”

Edward was quiet. Leaning back, he regarded his friend.

“Dear saints, you
are
having difficulty!” Curtis dusted his hands from the crumbs of the biscuit.

Edward took a deep breath.

“Out of practice, old chap? Don’t worry. It would be my pleasure to be of assistance.” Curtis stood and bowed.

“Bloody hell.”

“No, I believe the correct response would be
thank you.
”

“Damn it all, Curtis. You don’t make this easy.”

“Humility is never easy.”

“Deuced right.”

“But it always works.” Curtis grinned.

“Pardon?”

“Humility.” He shrugged. “It works like charm.” He tugged on his shirt sleeves and straightened his shoulders. “A humble man is irresistible to a woman.”

“I’ll be no weak-minded—“

“Did I
say
weak-minded?” Curtis interrupted.

“Er, no,” Edward answered, his brow furrowing.

“I said
humble
. Not some pansy, dandy fop. What do you take me for?” His expression was clearly offended.

Edward narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You need to let her see that you are willing to think of her before yourself. That doesn’t make you less of a man, simply a wiser one.” He winked. “Here’s an example. She dresses for dinner, and you…” Curtis held out his hand, his expression expectant.