A Taste of Temptation (17 page)

But how would he have gotten in? She’d locked the door before lying down.

It’s his house, he would have a key.

Should she pretend to be asleep? It would serve him right, but did she want to do that?

As she contemplated what to do she heard the squeak of the door opening. Quickly she rose in the bed and turned toward the door. In the darkness she saw what looked like a man disappearing through the door as it closed. For a moment she thought perhaps Whibbs had come in, but as her mind cleared she knew he would not invade her bedroom, and the man she saw was much too tall to be the butler.

She started to call out to Andrew but something stopped her. He obviously hadn’t wanted her to know he was there.

After a few moments, she lay back down, trying to decide if she were hopeful or angry that Andrew had slipped into her room after throwing her out of his.

27239_ch01.001-297.qxd 9/19/05 6:09 PM Page 145

Eleven

8

Lord Pinkwater may have given up the ghost, but Lord Dugdale gave up his bachelorhood. An era has ended. The last of the Terrible Threesome earls has taken a bride, but is there already trouble brewing? Word has it the earl was seen at a gentlemen’s club shortly after the ceremony. And rumor has it he was there all night.

Lord Truefitt

Society’s Daily Column

O
livia slept soundly
after her midnight visitor left her room and she awakened with a sound purpose in her mind.

She had decided she was going to win her husband’s respect, if not his love, with kindness and duty. She would not feel as if she were an interloper in a house that was now her home, nor would she be sent to the countryside to live out the rest of her days in seclusion as her mother had been.

She was certain Andrew was drawn to her just as she was drawn to him by some emotional force she’d never encountered before. She had seen it in his eyes, felt it inside him that he wanted her. She’d sensed it in the tremor that shook his body when he’d held her in his arms last night.

She could only assume that because he believed she had trapped him into marriage he’d pushed her away. Her instinct told her that in time he would come to know her and realize that she wasn’t capable of such a devious act.

Olivia looked at every dress in her wardrobe before selecting a pale lilac-colored morning dress that flattered her coloring and her hair. The current style of dresses for day or evening wear was an embarrassingly low-cut neckline and high waist that amplified a woman’s breasts. None of Olivia’s dresses were an exception to that rule, so for mod-esty’s sake she added a lace fichu.

After donning the dress she arranged her hair on top of her head, added a light dusting of powder to her face, and fastened a gold chain with a large, oval amethyst around her neck before heading downstairs.

A quick peek into each room she passed showed that every cup, glass, and plate from the wedding party had been cleaned up, and the house seemed in perfect order.

Lord Dugdale obviously had an excellent staff. It didn’t look as if there was much for her to do, but surely she could make an improvement somewhere and prove her ability to manage a household.

That should please her new husband.

When she walked into the dining room she saw the butler talking to a maid who was adding hot water to a silver teapot.

“Good morning, Whibbs,” she said in a cheerful tone and with a bright smile.

“Good morning, Countess,” he said, clearly surprised to see her. “I’m sorry, we didn’t expect you down so early.

The buffet isn’t quite ready. I’ll let cook know you’re here.”

“No, please don’t on my account. I’m in no hurry. Tell me, what time does Lord Dugdale come down for his breakfast?”

“He has no set time, but he usually has coffee and reads the
Times
while his food is prepared.” Although Olivia didn’t grow up with a man in the house, perusing the paper sounded like a reasonable thing for a gentleman to do.

“I see. In that case, I think I will wait and eat with Lord Dugdale.”

“As you wish, Madame.”

Olivia looked over at the table. It was covered in a white cloth, but only one place setting had been laid and it was at the head of the table. A copy of the
London Times
was beside the plate.

Obviously Whibbs knew where her mind was going because he suddenly offered, “I assumed you would take your breakfast in bed. I was going to send one of the maids up with chocolate a little later in the morning.” She smiled at him to let him know she was not offended.

“Thank you, Whibbs, that would have been nice, but I prefer tea to chocolate in the mornings, and I never have it in bed. I’m always an early riser even when I’ve been out late the night before.”

“Yes, Madame, I’ll remember that.”

“I think I should like to have a cup of tea and walk through the garden while I wait for Lord Dugdale to come belowstairs.”

“I’ll get it right away.”

“There’s one other thing, Whibbs.”

“Yes.” He stopped.

“You and your staff take excellent care of Lord Dugdale’s home.”

“Thank you, Madame.”

“I should like to meet with all of the staff at two this afternoon. Do you think you could arrange that for me, please?”

“Of course.”

“Good. And after I meet everyone, I’d like a few minutes of your time to discuss the managing of the servants and to go over the household account. If that meets with your schedule?”

“Whenever you say, Madame, will suit me. I have everything in order for you.”

“I have no doubts on that. Our meeting should go smoothly. And one last thing. I’d like for Ellie to be kept on as my personal maid.”

His brows shot up again in surprise, though he only said, “If that is your wish, Madame.” Ellie had already admitted to Olivia that she couldn’t please Whibbs in her household duties, and by the cleanli-ness of the house it appeared Whibbs’s standard was high.

But Ellie had seemed to know exactly what Olivia needed last night. For that reason alone she wanted to give the maid a chance.

“It is,”Olivia said without further explanation. “Make any arrangements that are necessary for her to remain with us.”

“Yes, Madame, I’ll take care of it,” he said a bit stiffly, but he didn’t question her further.

Olivia gave Whibbs a genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll take that tea now.”

After receiving her cup, Olivia stepped out the back door to the garden feeling good that her first task as lady of the house had been handled and had gone quite well. She hadn’t expected any trouble with Whibbs and there hadn’t been any.

So far everything was going along nicely. She supposed it was only natural for Whibbs to be a bit surprised that she wanted to keep a servant whom he had considered dismissing.

Olivia inhaled deeply and took in the fresh morning air. It was a gloriously beautiful day. Cool but not chilling. The sky was a bright blue, scattered with patches of wispy white clouds that appeared as thin as gossamer. Warm sunshine had already dried the dew off the grass, shrubs, and flowers, leaving them washed clean to show their vibrant spring colors.

Back in Kent, their garden had been large and lush with greenery, fountains, and vistas. Tall yews had been trimmed close to form a maze of arches, nooks, and pathways that led the wanderer on a merry chase through the grounds.

The garden at her new home, though small, was as exceptionally tended as the house. Not much needed her attention.

Whibbs was a master at taking care of Lord Dugdale’s house.

It would be hard for her to impress Andrew with her skills at managing his household and staff when it was already being run proficiently. But there had to be a way to gain favor with her husband, and she was determined to find it.

A few minutes later when she walked back into the dining room, she saw Andrew sitting at the table with the
Times
in front of his face. He lowered the news print and rose when he heard her walk in. His gaze swept up and down her. It was clear he appreciated the time she’d taken with her appearance.

Olivia looked him over, too. He was completely dressed for the day, down to his waistcoat and perfectly tied neckcloth. He looked so handsome standing there watching her that her stomach felt as if it rolled over. And she couldn’t help remembering how he looked last night without his shirt. Just the thought made her tremble with expectancy.

It was almost laughable. She had taken such care with her toilet trying to impress him and gain his attention, yet just being in the same room with him filled her with pleasure.

When their gazes met, they held much longer than was necessary.

He said, “Good morning, Olivia.”

She smiled at him and said, “Good morning, Andrew. I trust you slept well after you came in last night.”

“Very well indeed.”

“Good.”

Andrew continued to stand so she said, “Please don’t let me disturb you. Sit back down and finish your reading. I’ll join you as soon as I refresh my tea.” She walked over to the buffet and placed her empty cup on top of it. She had to get control of herself. She couldn’t allow her legs to turn buttery every time she looked at him.

He sat back down and quickly gave his attention to the
Times
. Olivia took her time pouring tea into her cup, adding sugar and cream and stirring it much longer than was necessary before walking over to the table to take her seat. Andrew quickly laid the paper back down, rose, and pulled out her chair for her.

“Thank you,” she said.

He then seated himself once again and picked up the news paper.

Olivia sat quietly for a few moments sipping her tea.

She had grown up having her morning meal alone in the dining room. Agatha wouldn’t think of rising from bed before finishing her chocolate and toast. Olivia’s mother had been the same way. Spending the morning in bed was not for Olivia. She had always been too eager for the day to begin to waste a moment more than necessary lying down.

She’d never minded dining alone, either, but it hadn’t taken more than a few minutes to realize she didn’t like to be ignored across the breakfast table. Suddenly she was tapping her fingers softly on her saucer just to have something to do.

Softly clearing her throat, she looked around the formal room. A gold-leaf girandole looking glass hung over the fireplace with two brass sconces on either side of it. In the corner behind the head of the table stood a larger-than-life-size suit of armor complete with shield and pike, and against the far wall was a lovely Chippendale side board with two tall French gilt porcelain urns on it.

The only window in the room was framed with dark green velvet draperies which were pulled back on each side showing lace sheers. Bright sunshine streamed through small panes, throwing prisms of blue, yellow, and red across the white walls.

She didn’t know why Andrew’s reading the paper bothered her. But somehow being disregarded by someone present had a different feel from just being alone. It was a feeling she didn’t like.

“Andrew,” she said when she couldn’t stand the quietness any longer. “I’m sorry to disturb you again.” He lowered the paper and looked at her with a distracted expression. “Yes?”

“Perhaps you can tell me what parties you planned to attend tonight and for the rest of the Season so I can be prepared.”

“It makes no difference to me. Have Whibbs give you the invitations I’ve received and select the ones you want to grace with your presence.” And with that he went back to reading.

The way he said that raised another question. “By that statement do you mean that I should go alone?” Without looking up he said, “No, Olivia. I’ll play the dutiful husband and escort you wherever you want to go.” At least that was a start. He didn’t plan to completely ignore her and force her to stay at home alone every evening.

But was a reluctant husband any better than an absent one?

She managed to stay quiet a couple more minutes until she couldn’t bear to hear the rustling of the paper one more time.

She asked, “Why did you come into my room when you returned last night after making it quite clear you didn’t want me in your chambers?”

Again he didn’t bother to lower the paper, but in an uninterested tone he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t enter your room last night.” It surprised her that he denied it. “I beg your pardon, my lord. Although I didn’t rise and speak to you I was awake and knew you were there. You don’t need to pretend you were not.”

“I’m not pretending anything, Olivia, I’m trying to read the
Times,
” he said in an exasperated tone.

“And it’s very difficult for me to talk to you with it in front of your face.”

Andrew slowly lowered the sheets of paper to the table and stared rather oddly at her. “I’ve read my paper while having my coffee every morning for the past twelve years.

I don’t intend to stop now.”

That was as good as telling her she was intruding on his time.

She should have accepted that so she could be the kind wife she wanted to be for him; kind, dutiful, seen but not heard. She wanted to be all those things for him.

But Olivia couldn’t keep quiet.

She felt compelled to say, “Perhaps now that you are married and have someone to talk to you could take a few moments for conversation.”

“All right, talk.”

His annoyed expression told her she should have stayed quiet and she certainly shouldn’t say another word, but Olivia realized she was too accustomed to speaking her mind to slip easily into the role of a dutiful wife.

“Very well. Let’s go back to the exchange we started earlier. It was completely dark in my room last night, but I saw the back of your white shirt as you went out the door.