The Forsaken Love of a Lord (15 page)

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Authors: Kristin Vayden

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Forsaken Love of a Lord
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“You don’t actually expect want me to pretend you are Olivia, do you?” Edward replied dryly.

“No, but I do believe you’re intelligent enough to come up with a response.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Very well.” He cleared his throat. “You look lovely.” He nodded.

“You are a bloody idiot.”

“Pardon?”


That
was all the best you can come up with?
You look lovely,
” Curtis mimicked in a falsetto tone. “What are you, her bloody mother?”

“What?”

“You say,
‘I’m blessed beyond men to have you as my dinner partner. Only the stars above are equal to your beauty.’
” Curtis bowed.

“You don’t mean humility. You mean sap.”

“I mean giving her a reason to feel as if you want her, truly. A man doesn’t say such things unless he wants something. What do you want, Edward?”

“Her, but when she’s my wife, she’ll
be
mine.”

“In name, yes. But if you were satisfied with that, you’d not be interested in my advice,” Curtis shot back.

“Very well. I flatter her. What else?” Edward asked tightly.

“What does she like?”

“I haven’t any idea.”

“Then find out. That shouldn’t be too difficult. Simply converse with her. Women love to talk, especially about themselves. Hell,
I
love to talk about myself. Though, even if I
do
say so myself, I’m quite fascinating.” Curtis rubbed his nails on his shirt, buffing them.

Edward snorted. “I converse, I flatter, I find her likes and dislikes. Have you any other wisdom to add?”

“Yes. Think of her before you think of yourself. Show her that you’re not in this for you… you’re in this for the grandest prize of all.” Curtis took a few purpose-filled steps toward him. “Do you know what that is?”

“Indeed. Her heart.”

“Ah, and here I was questioning your ability to do this. Thankfully you’re smarter than you look.”

“Indeed. I wish I could say the same for you, old friend.” Edward shot back, grinning.

“I’m pleased that you plan to win this wife of yours. No doubt she’s already assuming the very worst. After all, it’s what women do.” Curtis shook his head, but grinned.

“Funny, I’m laughing — on the inside, mind you,” Edward remarked.

“Have you any further need of my wooing services, or may I take my leave?” Curtis bowed mockingly.

“I don’t remember inviting you to begin with.” Edward chuckled.

“You never do.” Curtis gave a lamenting sigh.

“Off with you. Find some other skirt to chase other than my future wife,” Edward teased.

“Indeed, I shall need a new obsession… perhaps I’ll cast my interests toward Alaina once more, though rumor has it that she’s taken with Lord Durham. Ah, well. Other fish in the sea, you know. Hmm…” Curtis nodded. “With so many options, how could one possibly choose?” He winked grabbed his coat then nodded to his friend. “I’ll be seeing you.” With a quick wave, Curtis took his leave.

Edward relaxed into the chair. As much as he was loath to admit it, Curtis had given some sound advice.

All that was left was the implementation.

Heaven help him.

CHAPTER TEN

 

S
EDUCTION.
I
T WAS THE
only way Olivia could think of that could possibly work in securing Lord Langley’s affections. Of course, the whole idea would be much easier if she knew, precisely, what one did to seduce.

Blast her innocence.

Olivia rolled her head, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she paced about her room. It had been three days, and she hadn’t seen Lord Langley. In only a few days she would be wed, and she had yet to see her groom!

This did not bode well.

If he cared for her, wouldn’t he have wanted to see her?

Rather, she felt like some forgotten princess, locked in a tower and waiting for her final demise.

The suspense was making her overly dramatic.

Irritated with herself, but primarily with Lord Langley, she left her room in a flurry of exasperation, slamming the door too hard and stomping in a way that was unbecoming of a lady.

She made her way down the hall. As she came to the stairs, she lifted the hem of her dress and trotted down them quickly, the rapid movement lifting her spirits.

Movement!
That
was what she needed. Too long she had been waiting, hoping for Lord Langley to make the first move.

No longer.

Rather, she spun on her heel and ascended the stairs quickly. Changing into her riding habit, she took the servants’ stairs to the back and exited the house quietly, with no one the wiser. The freedom felt delicious, like the first dip of refreshing bath. Inhaling deeply, she refused to let the lingering stench of London pollute her newfound happiness.

After entering the stables, she quickly had the groom saddle her mount, and she was on her way. She started toward Hyde Park then paused. There would be far too many people there. What she wanted, craved, was somewhere she could ride freely.

Curse London.

She wanted a country road, a path through the woods where the hard-packed earth was surrounded by a canopy of leaves.

Hyde Park would have to do.

Riding slightly faster than was ladylike, she made her way to Rotten Row. Thankfully, it was just before the fashionable hour, so she took shameless advantage of the freedom afforded on the dirt track. Her mount effortlessly transitioned into a lope, then galloped as she took the bend of the trail, overjoyed at the exhilarating feeling of freedom. All too soon, the path ended. Pulling up her horse, she slowed his gait till he could turn, and she repeated the path, only this time she pushed slightly faster.

She might be the source of gossip tomorrow, but the unsavory thought didn’t act as any sort of restraint. Heart pounding, her horse panting, she halted his progress as she reached the end of the track once more.

Patting her horse’s neck, she thought over her dilemma again. While seduction seemed the only option, she was quickly reconsidering it. Why would Lord Langley need her to seduce him? She was going to be his wife. He could take whatever he wanted. She shivered at the thought, not sure if she was delighted or terrified. Truthfully, all she had control over in the entire situation was her response to anything, to everything. How could she use that? She patted her horse again, absentmindedly. Her eyes wandered to a nearby tree. Two sparrows were hopping on a branch. One pursued the other, while the other hopped lightly away. It was a dance of sorts. The one would take a step closer, tilt his head, and chirp brightly. The other would glance briefly and hop away, almost as if teasing.

Luring.

Heavens.

That was it!

What did men love? The chase! If she simply seduced him, there was no effort on his part. Granted, he might not want to put forth effort to win her affections regardless… but if he even held a slight regard for her… tempting him… flirting… keeping just enough distance might work.

It had to work.

It was her last hope.

Her only hope.

As soon as she was able, she’d start her plan — with a wink, with a smile, with a dangling of the carrot just out of reach.

What could possibly go wrong?

 

 

“Curtis, blast it all, it’s just a visit,” Edward grumbled as his friend continued to stare at him, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Edward continued to scowl at the man as he had since the moment he’d walked into the room.

“No, it’s never
just a visit
.” Curtis shook his head.

Truth be told, Edward knew it was far more than just a casual conversation. This would be the first time he’d see Olivia since their betrothal. “I’m sure it will go well,” Edward replied with false confidence.

“Ah yes, true. What’s the worst that could happen?” Curtis flicked his fingers dismissively, his eyes full of sarcasm.

“The worst?” Edward sighed. He knew his friend meant the question rhetorically, yet he knew he needed to talk it out, plan it. “The worst that could happen is that she believes I’m after revenge, not
her.

“Ah, then you are more aware of the situation than I gave you credit for!” Curtis lifted his teacup to his friend and toasted.

Edward offered a wry grin.

“Next?”

“Next? I’m not sure I gather your meaning?” Edward replied, taking a soothing drink of the hot and bittersweet tea.

“Please tell me you’re not making this up as we go along.” Curtis’ expression was one of jest.

Edward didn’t smile.

Curtis’ expression slowly fell as understanding seemed to dawn. “Bloody hell. You haven’t a clue about what you’re doing, have you?” he asked, his tone slightly panicked.

“Er, no. Which is why I was quite thrilled to see you—“

“That was your way of displaying
thrilled
?” Curtis stood and strode about the room, pacing and running his hands over his chin. “You’re
still
scowling!” He shook his head. “We have so much work to do that I don’t even know where to begin,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t realize I was such a lost cause,” Edward grumbled.

“Now you do,” Curtis shot back.

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“There are no rhetorical questions.” Curtis spun, facing him fully.

Edward shifted nervously in his seat at the slightly crazed expression on Curtis’ face. “Pardon?”

“With women, there are no rhetorical questions. Understand that. What you say you can never take back. They will remember it, store it, take it to heart and run. You
must
understand this.”

“I understand.” Edward was quick to agree.

“You very well better understand,” Curtis shot back. “Now. Let us go to step one; allay her fears. Women are irrational creatures who—“

“Curtis?”

“Hmm?”

“Must I remind you to whom I was married?” Edward asked darkly, the blackness of thousand tormenting memories leaking into his soul.

“Forgive me.” Curtis paused mid-pace, offering an apologetic glance to his friend.

Edward waved him off.

“Now after, speak with her about your intentions.”

“I thought I was simply allaying her fears.”

Curtis swore. “Am I going to need to hold your hand through the entire conversation?”

“I should hope not. I am not that type of gentleman. Sorry to break it to you, my friend,” Edward remarked with a wicked laugh.

“Not amusing.”

“I sincerely thought it was.”

“Back to the issue at hand…”

“I think I can take it from here. Though I must say I am very grateful for your assistance. You’ve pointed me in the right direction however…” Edward released a breath. “…however, I believe that things shall work themselves out. First and foremost is the truth. And after that, we’ll take it slow. I’ll not have unrealistic expectations.”

Curtis studied his friend. “Very well, but remember what I said. Guard your words, my friend. They can be life-giving, or life-taking. You, more than anyone, know that to be true.”

“Indeed I do.” Edward nodded solemnly.

Curtis shrugged and relaxed his posture. “When will you meet with the lucky lady?”

“Lucky?” Edward chuckled. ”I believe I’ll call on her first thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing about it.”

“I’m sure you will,” Edward replied, his tone thick with sarcasm.

“Ah, they grow up so fast.” Curtis smiled sarcastically then shook his head. Grinning in a genuine manner, he collected his coat and hat and took his leave.

Edward glanced at the clock, willing it to move forward faster, wishing for it to be the next day, the next week even. At least then he’d know how everything had transpired.

Yet, where was the bravery in that?

It was absent.

And he had been hiding himself away for far too long.

No more.

Tomorrow he walked fully into the light.

Skeletons and all.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

O
LIVIA’S HANDS WERE
SO
damp that her fine kid gloves were feeling confining rather that soft and comforting. Squeezing a fist, she blew out an anxious breath through her lips and inhaled deeply through her nose.

It didn’t help.

Her heart was still racing.

The hall clock began to chime the hour, and her heart felt as though it might pound out of her chest.

It was time, after waiting for so long, it was finally here.

The truth.

Yet she found that attaining that goal seemed trivial compared to the strong desire to see Lord Langley again.

Her betrothed.

As if whispering his name in her heart had somehow called to him, at that moment he was ushered into the sitting room by their butler. His handsome figure was enhanced by the cut of his jacket, drawing her eye to the expanse of shoulders that seemed so strong. Protective.

His expressive eyes were fixed on her, his countenance unreadable yet deep, as if he were afraid of sharing some secret he held tightly.

How accurate.

He strode into the room with purpose in each step. His shoulders slightly swaying reminded her that he was dangerous in many ways.

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