The Forsaken Love of a Lord (4 page)

“Blast it all,” Edward cursed.

Curtis was silent, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

Edward’s gaze shifted downward as he tried to think through the problematic situation.

“By Jove, I think I’ve got it!” Curtis exclaimed.

Edward started, glancing up to his friend. “Pardon?”

“Don’t you see? If she wants information on you… then I can be the one to give it!” He nodded.

Edward blinked, not following. “I fail to see—“

“Think of it this way. If
I
am the one to smooth over her curiosity, then she’ll be less likely to ask others. And… if by chance that affords me additional time with the beauty, then…” He flicked his wrist, a devilish grin overtaking his features.

“So, just to make sure I understand what you’re suggesting…” Edward narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to use her curiosity about me as a leverage to flip her skirt?”

“Gads, no. She’s an innocent. That much is certain. Perhaps it’s time for me to settle down—“

“With a woman you’ve seen once and spoken with for all of four minutes?” Edward asked dubiously.

“Who can explain the nature of love?” Curtis questioned loftily, a far-off look in his eye.

“Er, you do remember that she
was
my sister-in-law? That I’m not fond of her or her family or what they remind me of?” Edward replied menacingly.

“I’d think that you of all people would appreciate the sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Curtis shook his head and tsked his tongue.

Edward sneered.

“Honestly, if
I
were to marry her—“

“This is insane. You’re not going to marry her. You’ve barely bloody met her!” Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes and slap some sense into his friend.

“Be that as it may,
if
I were to court and marry her— Is that better?” He eyed Edward.

Edward did roll his eyes this time.

“—then the first matter of business would me for me to silence her family’s curiously. As her
husband,
it would be quite simple for me. Rather than having a random bloke allow her curiosity to run unchecked. You know how most men tend to ignore their wives…” He shrugged.

“And you’d be an image of a lovesick, doting spouse? I doubt this.”

“I never said I would be. Which is why it would be simply fine for us to remain friends! You’d never have to see her
. Unseen unless needed
. I’m quite certain that’s all she expects anyway.” He shrugged.

“You, Curtis, haven’t a clue about women, do you?” Edward responded in disbelief.

“Of course I do. I’ve been told many times that—“

“The only conversations I’d deem of any value must take place outside the bedroom,” Edward interrupted.

“How do you think I got them
in
the bedroom, my friend?” Curtis shot back, a wolfish grin on his lips.

Edward simply shook his head. “Irrespective of the bloody massacre that my marriage turned out to be, I’m still more of an expert on women than you. But if you wish to play your little game, I’ll not stop you. As much as it pains me to say it, it
would
be a blessing in disguise to keep the gossip at bay, or her curiosity, rather. Though I
am
surprised her parents allowed her to ask questions. One word from me to the right people, and I could ruin them all…”

“But you’d be opening up yourself for speculation as well. Perhaps she understands that,” Curtis added, his eyebrow raised.

“Conceivably. We’ll simply have to wait and see. In the meantime, would you mind keeping me updated on your progress with the chit? To appease my
own
morbid curiosity, you understand.” Edward relaxed slightly.

“Of course! Now, I’ll take my leave. Goodnight, Langley.”

“Goodnight, Curtis.”

Edward watched his friend leave and then relaxed in his chair. Perhaps Curtis’ idea would keep everything as it was: unknown, unspoken about.

He could only pray.

Olivia sighed as she stared at the celling, counting the coffered boxes.

“I saw that you danced with Lord Abbinguard last night.” Her mother spoke.

Olivia twisted her lips, trying to remember what he looked like. She had danced with several gentlemen, all of whom had faded into a sea of grey, uninteresting faces.

All except one.

Two actually. Mr. Sheppard was surprisingly interesting. Especially since he up and left after dancing with her.

She wasn’t
that
bad of a dancer. So it had to be her questions.

Interesting.

“I’m sorry, Mama, but can you remind me which gentleman was Lord Abbinguard?” she asked, turning her gaze to her mother.

“It’s not a small thing to have so many gentlemen ask for your attentions that you cannot keep them straight.” She clapped excitedly. “But…” She leaned forward, setting down her embroidery. “…you mustn’t let them know that you haven’t a clue as to their name.” She finished with a serious tone.

“Yes, Mama.” Olivia nodded, though she was quite certain that it was simply common sense.

“Now, Lord Abbinguard was the one with the golden curls and the more pronounced features.” She spoke with a smile. “He’s also one of the richest widowers in London.” She winked conspiratorially.

Olivia studied the ceiling once more, thinking carefully.
Golden curls?
Dear Lord, her mother sounded like she was describing a toddler. And
pronounced
features
had to be a kind way of saying the gentleman was— Oh no.

“You mean the… the one that was wearing a wig?” Olivia couldn’t imagine her mother referring to… that man.

She shuddered.

“Indeed! Though you mustn’t ever let on that you know it’s a wig, dear. When he was younger, he had the most glorious hair. I think he wishes everyone to remember his prior glory.” She sighed.

“Or simply to remember him being younger?” Olivia added under her breath. The gentleman in question was at least sixty.

“He is quite the catch, and you’d not have to suffer with his presence for long. Being as old as he is, he’d likely die off in a year or two.”

“Mama!”

“It’s true, and you’d be a rich countess. There are worse things, darling. Not to mention, he had quite the estate and breeding behind his title. I dare say he’s one of the catches of the season.” Her mother flicked imaginary lint from her skirt.

“Indeed. Some lucky woman will certainly snatch him up.” Olivia spoke with mild sarcasm.

“Don’t be insolent, dear,” her mother scolded. “We need the title, or at least the money, in order to redeem the… incident of your sister.” She sighed heavily, wearily.

“Speaking of my sister—“

“No. We will
not
speak of your sister. And don’t think I didn’t see you glance at Lord Langley. That was a wise choice to dance with his friend. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, I say.“ She shifted in her seat and began her embroidery once more.

“Indeed.” Olivia nodded, a tight smile in place. “You know, I think I’ll take a walk.” She stood, needing to leave the presence of her mother.

“Be sure to take along your maid, Polly,” her mother replied without even glancing up.

“Of course,” Olivia agreed quickly before she slipped out of the parlor and ascended the stairs quickly.

After changing into her walking dress, she met Polly at the door and fled to the less-than-fresh air of London. “What I wouldn’t give for a breath of clean air that didn’t smell of soot, or sour air.” Olivia spoke to herself.

Polly smiled softly, as if agreeing but not sure if she should voice her opinion.

Olivia made her way to Kensington Gardens and wound her way through Hyde Park. It was early, so there weren’t very many people out and about. Sighting a lonely bench beneath a copse of trees, she made her way to it and sat. Closing her eyes, she tried to think up the next part of her plan. It was blessed providence that her mother was accepting of her dance with Mr. Sheppard.
If
she could convince him to dance with her again, then maybe she’d be able to find out more information on Lord Langley. But, judging by his quick departure the last time, she wasn’t feeling too optimistic on that front. With a defeated sigh, she slumped slightly on the bench.

“You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?” a feminine voice asked.

Olivia opened her eyes and immediately straightened her lazy posture, only to find that the woman who had asked, was not waiting for an answer. Rather, she had already sat down on the bench and was glancing heavenward with an exasperated expression.

“Er, hello?” Olivia spoke, somewhat unsure.

“Hello, oh! What manners I have, or lack thereof actually. Goodness me, I haven’t introduced myself, have I? And here I simply interrupted your calm peaceful place without so much as a hello. Unforgiveable.” She shook her head, sending her hat into a skewed position.

She stopped. Glancing up, she gently nudged the hat into position. “Blasted thing.”

Olivia simply watched, blinking. The young woman was easily her age, with hair the color of lampblack and a flawless complexion. Her eyes were wide and dark, her nose small with the slightest upturned end, and a lips that were pinched as she worked with her hat.

After the hat was situated, the young lady turned once more to Olivia. “There. I’m Maria.” She extended her hand.

“Olivia.”

“Hmm… I don’t think I’ve met you.” Her green eyes narrowed slightly as if thinking. “The only Olivia
I’ve
heard of… is the one who… oh...” She colored and glanced away.

“Is what?” Olivia asked, leaning forward. If people were talking about her, then people would likely be talking about
her
sister as well. Which would undoubtedly lead to the topic of Lord Langley!

“Oh, it’s nothing I’m sure. It’s beautiful weather we’re having today.” Maria switched the subject.

“What are they saying about me? I’m terribly curious! Have they mentioned my sister?” Olivia asked.

“Er, I’m not sure—“

“Please?” Olivia pleaded.

Maria studied her. “Very well. They say that you’re trying to redeem your family’s name.”

“Oh.” Olivia rolled her eyes then a caught herself in the utterly impolite gesture.

“I’m so sorry I should have never have— Wait.” Her eyebrow rose. “
Oh?
Were you wanting to hear something different?“

Olivia waved off her bewildered expression. “Oh, well it’s just that I was hoping for a bit more information. Everyone knows I’m here to redeem my family name, though I have no idea as to how. Unless it’s marrying some wretched gentleman like Lord Abbinguard—“

“Dear me,” Maria interrupted, her face one of acute sympathy.

“Precisely, and I assure you that
that
will not be happening.” Olivia reached over and patted Maria’s hand.

“I’m glad to hear of it… even if he
is
rich…” Maria shuddered.

“My sentiments exactly. But, what I meant to say, was I was hoping to hear about the scandal with my sister.

“Pardon?”

“The scandal, I’m sure it’s being whispered about. I mean, I’m certainly not gossip-worthy, I’ve been here not even two weeks!” Olivia giggled.

“Your sister? Why, I haven’t heard anything about your sister… just that your family and her husband’s family are estranged… hmm… let me think. Oh, and that Lord Langley hasn’t danced with a woman since your sister. It’s all terribly romantic, if you ask me. Though, there’s talk from both points of view, that he misses her so dearly he can’t stand the sight of your family or the idea of remarriage, but there’s some that say that he was betrayed, and your family paid him off to keep quiet.” She immediately covered her mouth, a horrified expression in her eyes. “I can’t believe I said that to you! I—“

“Maria, don’t fret! It’s nothing I haven’t heard—“

“But to hear it again! How it must wound you! My mother is right. I simply need to keep my mouth shut at all times. I’ll simply go through life nodding or shaking my head. Maybe
then
a gentleman will glance in my direction. I’ll be the silent one. That will be my new identity, rather than the one who simply won’t stop talking—“

She hadn’t knowing Maria long, but in that small amount of time, she had certainly noticed that Maria seemed to suffer from speaking incessantly.

What luck!

“Maria?” Olivia interrupted gently, placing a hand on her arm.

“Hmm? Oh bother! I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I continue to babble—“

“Maria, it’s quite fine. I quite like that particular trait about you. That and you’re quite honest — the very traits of a true friend,” Olivia added with a gentle smile.

“Oh. Oh! Truly?” Maria asked, her face lighting up.

“Indeed! I’m not offended in the least. Rather, speaking with you has been a delight!”

“You’re too kind, Olivia! And with all I had shared about your family I—“

“You’ll cease fretting about it. Now. If we are to be friends, you must tell me about yourself.” Olivia grinned.

“There’s not much to say, I’m sure. My father is the Viscount Moray — a title he inherited from his Scottish cousin. We visit Edinburg at least once a year, after the season, of course.” She spoke seriously, as if missing the season was a crime.