The Seduction of Lady X (21 page)

“I do not want your distance!” she cried. “God help me, I know I must have it, but I do not
want
it.”

Harrison was at a complete loss. He didn’t want to keep his distance, either, but he had no choice. To be near her was to court disaster; he’d already discovered that the wall he’d built around his heart over the years was as weak as a house of cards. “Tell me what you want and I will do it, whatever it is,” he said. “I will help you in any way that I can.”

She made a sound of frustration. “If you could help me, you would have done so long ago. I am beyond help.”

The truth in that statement sliced through him, made him feel like less than a man. He could not save the one person who meant more to him than any other. Harrison shoved his fingers through his hair and desperately sought his footing. The only thing he knew was that he wanted to touch her again, to take her in his arms and into his bed.

“Do you know what I truly want?” she asked, her voice soft and breathless.

“What? Tell me, and I will give it to you,” he said earnestly.

“But I want what I can never have—I want
you,
Harrison.”

He caught his breath. It was the last thing he’d thought he would ever hear from her. A week ago, he would have rejoiced at her declaration. He would have swept her away from Everdon Court, as far away as he could take her. But now . . . now everything was different. He took her hands in his, his gaze on her slender fingers.

“I have astonished you, haven’t I?” she said. “You cannot imagine how I have come to depend on you. You have been my rock these years, Harrison. You are the one who has kept me breathing.”

His heart constricted. What a sad pair they were. He lifted her hands and kissed her knuckles. “Those words fill my heart with equal joy and despair. They are words I never dared to dream of hearing from you.”

“And today,” she said, “today, I knew a few moments of bliss. There are no words to describe how devastated I am to know that I will never feel that again.”

“If only I had known,” he said. “You must know, you must have sensed that I have adored you these many years, from the moment you first appeared at Everdon Court wearing that sunny yellow gown and pearls.”

Olivia looked up with surprise. “You remember what I wore?”

“I remember everything,” he said. “I remember the day you went riding, and you returned with twigs in your hair and your hat missing, lost when you attempted to negotiate a low-hanging limb. You laughed and called it a fool’s daring. I thought you were so vibrant.”

“Oh, Harrison.”

“I recall one summer day when you hosted a tea in the gazebo, and Miss Shields told you a tale that had you laughing so soundly that your hands were pressed against your abdomen and tears filled your eyes.”

“How can you recall that?” she asked, smiling with pleasure. “You were not there.”

“I watched you from an open window in the study. I remember the occasion of your first anniversary, and the silver gown you wore. You looked every bit a princess, and in the middle of the dancing, you caught my eye and winked.”

She smiled softly. “You seemed rather forlorn, standing to the side all alone.”

“Not forlorn,” he said, his gaze on hers. “Mesmerized. Always mesmerized.”

Olivia blushed. “By me? I have always felt so uninteresting.”

“You?” He shook his head. “Never. Do you recall a night, two or three years ago, when a heavy snow fell and we played Écarté? You soundly bested me and took three crowns from me.”

“You were so cross about it,” she said, and grinned up at him. “What else do you remember?”

Harrison’s smile faded. “I remember the joy that shone out of you like sunlight when you believed yourself to be with child, and the despair that darkened your face afterward. And I could not . . .” He swallowed. “I was helpless to remove the pain of it.”

That sober reminder caused Olivia to look away and pull her hand free. “You remember so much.”

“I remember it all, Olivia. Every moment, because I have admired you most ardently from the moment I first saw you.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“
Tell
you?” He smiled and shook his head, brushed his knuckles against her cheek as he had longed to do a thousand times. “How could I? As you say, you are a married woman. You are above me in society, in matrimony, in every way a woman can be above a man. And I esteemed you far too much to put you in jeopardy with my feelings. Until today. Today it was quite beyond my power to resist you.”

“Harrison . . . it was I who could not resist
you,
” she murmured. Her eyes began to glisten with tears. “I wish . . . I wish I could steal a moment in time. I wish I could carve out a few days of happiness, all to myself, with you. Alas,” she said, her gaze falling to his mouth, “that is not my lot in life. Or yours. It is imperative that what happened between us today never happen again.”

But her gaze belied the words she spoke. Her gaze didn’t leave his mouth, and it was heating his blood. He touched his fingers to hers, lacing them together.

“It is best for all concerned,” she said, as if trying to convince herself. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and Harrison’s pulse began to throb. It was a supreme act of self-control to keep his hands from her.

“We must endeavor to put this behind us,” she said. “We
must.
But Harrison, I cannot live without your friendship. If I don’t have that at least, I shall perish here in this drafty old house and this dark marriage. Promise me. Promise me that we shall always be friends.”

A small, hairline crack snaked its way across Harrison’s heart. Without question, he would always be her friend. The idea that he would never have more with her was cruelly disappointing. It felt a bit as if he’d run the race, but had fallen just short of the finish line. It was an unsatisfying request of a desire that had now been opened up to the heavens. But Olivia’s expression was so earnest, he said, “Not only will I be your friend, I shall always be close. And I will always hold you in my heart, Olivia.” He lifted his hand to his chest, pressed it against his breast.

“Oh dear,” she said, her smile tremulous. “How can such tender words sting so? My good and loyal friend.”

She was trying to climb above her feelings and put their regard for one another in its proper place, but Harrison did not want them there. He wanted her as his own. And he wondered how he would ever put down that desperate, soul-devouring want.

For her sake, however, he would. He smiled. He leaned in. And he let his lips brush her temple. He inhaled her scent, his mouth on her hair, her hand in his. He could feel the draw of her breath and the warmth of her sigh on his neck. It whispered through him, spreading tiny little vines through him, attaching to his veins, his bones.

He was loath to leave her, loath to leave this moment behind—but he let go of her hand and made himself walk away from the only woman he would ever love.

As he reached the door, Olivia said, “Harrison?”

His heart winged with foolish hope; he turned around.

“I already miss you.”

It took every ounce of his strength to walk out the door, to leave her standing there.
Olivia, sweet Olivia.
He walked, and he did not look back. Yet his heart was still divining, still seeking her, and he felt the acute pain of having lost her when he’d never even had her.

O
livia awoke the next morning with a start. In that state between dream and consciousness, she’d felt an invisible weight bearing down on her and had bolted up, looking around the room.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything looked just as it had when she’d turned in last night.

Olivia pressed her hand to her chest. What had awakened her, she realized, was extraordinary sorrow and anger and frustration with everyone and everything about her.

She missed Harrison more than she believed was possible.

She buried her face in her hands. She’d lain awake for a long time last night with an aching head, her thoughts on how Alexa had come round to this marriage, and had somehow embraced it completely, wanting even a wedding. It was heart-wrenching. Completely, utterly heart-wrenching.

But Olivia couldn’t fault her for it. Her own marriage had been arranged, and she’d embraced hers as well. It’s what young women in their position did—they were trained to want the best match in fortune and social standing, not the best match of affections.

Olivia lifted her head and leaned back against the pillows. At eighteen years of age, she’d been astounded when the Marquis of Everdon had expressed an interest after one supper at Everdon Court. Edward had sent Harrison Tolly to negotiate her dowry. She remembered how he’d ridden up to their home, his cloak flying out behind him. He’d leapt off his mount and swept his hat off his head and had grinned at Olivia and Alexa, who stood behind Lord Hastings on the drive.

Her stepfather had brought him into their home, had offered him tea. Harrison had sat at the small tea table, the cup looking like a toy in his large hand. “If I may, Miss Hastings,” he’d said to Olivia, “Lord Carey is a fortunate man.” Olivia could remember her blush of pleasure and the smile he had given her. She’d thought him handsome and charming. She’d believed Harrison was an omen, a portent of what was to come at Everdon Court. She’d believed her life was on the verge of opening like a rosebud, the petals of it stretching out, reaching for all the world had to offer.

Dear God, how naïve.

But Olivia supposed that Alexa must be feeling some of that, the promise of something new, the hope of a bright future, particularly after the emotional turmoil she’d suffered through.

And Olivia had no doubt that Alexa would have a bright and happy future with Harrison.

Just like she’d thought she would have with Edward.

“Fool,” she muttered under her breath and got out of bed. She walked to the windows and pulled back the drapes, looking out into the early morning light. She tried to recall the moment or the event or even the day that marked the beginning of her disillusionment. Was it when she’d discovered Edward’s thirst for whiskey? Or when she’d realized how indifferent he was toward her, even blaming her for it? Was it when he’d casually informed her that she was tedious, or when he demanded to control her, wanting to know where she was and whom she saw? Was it his utter lack of desire for her? He’d never wanted anything but to rut on her like a pig and put his seed in her, then leave.

When Olivia told her mother, Lady Hastings had begged her to be more enticing in bed. But try as she might, Olivia could never seem to entice him to anything but anger.

Was it perhaps when she’d realized that he had a mistress? Oh, how devastatingly obtuse she’d felt! They’d only been married a little over two years when they were invited to the home of the rotund Major Barrow along with a dozen couples for a long weekend of shooting. From the beginning, Olivia had felt as if there was something everyone was hiding from her. There seemed to be no end to the averted looks, or to the whispering that stopped when she entered the room. The only person who didn’t seem to whisper was Mrs. Bronson, who had come with her husband, Mr. Bronson.

Olivia rather liked Mrs. Bronson. She’d been lively in conversation, speaking of the latest fashions in London, who she had dined with, and who was expected to shine in the upcoming Season. And she’d seemed very intent on Olivia.

At last, Mrs. Barrow had taken mercy on Olivia and had pulled her aside. “My dear . . . do you not understand who Mrs. Bronson
is
?”

“Who is she?” Olivia had asked innocently.

“For heaven’s sake! She is a particular
friend
of your husband’s.”

She’d said “friend” in such a tone that Olivia had suddenly understood. She’d been humiliated. There she’d been, chatting it up with Edward’s mistress all weekend while everyone had watched.

In all these years, the one person who brought any warmth into her life was Harrison. He was always ready with a smile, a wink, a jest. He was on hand to play cards with her when there was nothing to do on long winter evenings. He was there to help her plan the social evenings she and Edward had hosted, to ensure that Everdon Court was ready when members of Edward’s family arrived for extended stays.