His Wicked Heart (27 page)

“Any sum? Saxton, you can’t pursue this
woman. Even I know from my comfortable seat in the gutter that you
can’t marry her.”

Why had Sevrin jumped to that conclusion? “I
never said anything about marrying her. I have to keep her secrets
safe for my aunt’s sake. If Holborn learns of her parentage, he’ll
cast her out as quickly and definitively as he did the last
inappropriate girl who tried to infiltrate his family.”

“So you buy off anyone who can reveal she’s
Fiona Scarlet’s daughter. Then what? Aren’t you supposed to be
courting Lady Philippa?”

He was due at her townhouse in little more
than an hour. “I am, and I will.” Right after he went to Queen
Street.

OLIVIA WALKED quickly along Piccadilly,
anxious to get home before Louisa returned from her afternoon
calls. Her trip to the Haymarket hadn’t been as successful as she’d
hoped. No one at the theatre had known Fiona Scarlet more than
twenty years ago. Olivia did, however, learn the name of an old
woman who’d dressed many of London’s actors, both at the Haymarket
and the royal theatres. She’d obtained the woman’s address and
planned to visit her as soon as possible.

“Why, good afternoon, Olivia.” The overly
sweet voice of Lady Lydia Prewitt halted Olivia mid-stride.
“Goodness, you aren’t
alone
, are you?”

Engrossed in her thoughts, Olivia hadn’t been
paying attention to her surroundings. Consequently, she’d failed to
notice Lady Lydia and Audrey Cheswick strolling toward her. With
their
chaperones
. Olivia briefly considered ignoring them
and hurrying by, but ultimately rejected this idea, figuring it
might be more detrimental than if she offered a rational excuse for
being out alone. Now if she could just think of that reason…

“Good afternoon, Lady Lydia, Audrey.” Olivia
offered her sunniest smile. It wouldn’t do to appear guilty. “I was
just out for a quick walk.”

Audrey’s brows drew together. “Don’t you live
on Queen Street? That’s rather, er, invigorating.”

“I wanted to see the reservoir in Green
Park,” Olivia improvised. Green Park was just on the other side of
Piccadilly. Hopefully they didn’t notice she hadn’t come from that
direction.

Lady Lydia shook her head. “My dear Olivia,
you must realize this isn’t Devon! You can’t simply go for a stroll
in Town by yourself. If you crave solitude, have your chaperone
walk ten paces behind you. I do.”

Indeed, two maids lingered several yards
behind the two young women. “I shall keep that in mind, thank you.”
Olivia made to continue on her way, but Lady Lydia spoke again.

“I’ve been thinking of you, actually.” Lady
Lydia regarded her with narrowed eyes.

Olivia stopped, her body suffering a chill
despite the afternoon heat. She hoped Lady Lydia’s interest didn’t
have anything to do with Lord Prewitt almost recognizing her. Had
he later informed his daughter of just who he suspected Olivia to
be?

“Oh?” was all Olivia could manage to say.

“Yes, I was thinking about the costume you
wore to the Faversham Ball. It was quite stunning. And today, your
walking dress…that coral hue does wonders for your complexion. You
must tell me the name of your modiste.”

Louisa and Olivia had discussed how to
address this very question, but it hadn’t yet been raised. They’d
agreed on a very simple, and honest, answer. “I designed the
dresses.”

Both Audrey and Lady Lydia’s eyes widened.
Audrey smiled, her expression softening to one of…admiration? “How
extraordinary.”

Ever the interrogator, Lady Lydia asked, “Who
assembled them?”

“We employ some very talented maids.” Olivia
gave a purposefully enigmatic smile.

Lady Lydia’s mouth formed a practiced pout.
“How disappointing.” She toyed with the ribbon of her bonnet for a
moment. Then her eyes lit. “Unless you have a spare design you
wouldn’t mind parting with. I’m certain my dressmaker could do the
garment justice.”

Olivia had no intention of allowing someone
else to make her designs. She tried to think of how to politely
decline.

Audrey gently elbowed her friend. “Surely
this is a hobby for Olivia. If she gave one to you, only think how
people might harass her for their own design.” She turned to
Olivia. “You’re very talented.”

“Thank you.” Olivia warmed at Audrey’s
defense and her genuine praise.

Lady Lydia’s features hardened. The reaction
was not of her typically rehearsed variety. “You’re right, Audrey.
How gauche of me to have even asked.” She flicked Olivia a look
tinged with some emotion. Jealousy perhaps?

Olivia didn’t want Lydia to take her refusal
personally. She didn’t want to share her designs with anyone,
except family, like Louisa. And Jasper. Dear Lord, when had he
become ‘family?’

Gathering herself from her wayward thoughts,
she smiled at Lydia and said, “Perhaps you can come to Queen Street
one day, and I’ll show you my drawings.”

Audrey nodded. “That would be lovely.”

“Yes, we shall,” Lady Lydia said, recovering
her usual busybody mien. “Father is always telling me to welcome
new friends into Society.”

The reference to Lady Lydia’s father only
served to remind Olivia of the dangerous game she played. Even now,
Lady Lydia could be aware of Olivia’s relationship to the notorious
Fiona Scarlet. But since she hadn’t said anything, perhaps she
didn’t know. Or, more likely, she was waiting for a prime moment
during which to share this juicy morsel. Either way, Olivia’s
patience with the interlude had expired.

“I’m afraid I must be going. You’re quite
right that I ought to have a chaperone.”

“Would you like to take my maid?” Audrey
offered.

“No,” Olivia said. “Thank you, but I haven’t
all that far to go. Being from the
country
, I’m an excellent
walker so I’ll be home in a trice.”

“Good afternoon, then!” Audrey called after
her as she continued along Piccadilly.

Determined to get to Queen Street as quickly
as possible, Olivia took long strides at double time, and was
therefore out of breath when she reached her destination.
Exhaustion slowed her ascent of the front steps. She smiled at
Bernard as he opened the door and admitted her inside.

“Good afternoon, Bernard.”

“I trust you’re feeling improved?” he
asked.

Olivia had pleaded a headache in order to
avoid joining Louisa on her calls this afternoon. Then she’d told
Dale and Bernard she thought a walk might help. “Yes, thank you.
Has Louisa returned?”

“No, but Lord Saxton is waiting in the Rose
Room.”

Olivia’s pulse—already hammering from her
walk—sped faster. What could he be doing here? With Louisa gone…
She refused to consider the possibilities. What had happened
between them couldn’t happen again.

With a nod, Olivia walked to the drawing
room.

Jasper stood in front of Merry’s painting
with his back to the door. He turned, and Olivia couldn’t stop
herself from gasping. His lower lip was swollen at the left corner
where an abrasion marked his flesh.

She walked right over to him. “You’ve been
fighting again.”

His lips pursed. “I didn’t come to discuss
that.”

His firm tone chased away her concern. “All
right. Why are you here then?”

“I saw you on Piccadilly today. Where were
you going by yourself?”

She didn’t want to tell him about her search
for her father. It was bad enough he knew she was a bastard. If he
or Louisa knew Merry may not be her father, why they might just
toss her out as Aunt Mildred had done.

“I took a walk,” she said. He opened his
mouth, but she held up her hand. “Yes, I realize I should’ve taken
a chaperone, and I shan’t make the same mistake again.”

“Very well. I’m glad you realize you’re
Somebody now. If you want to embrace this life with Louisa, you
must leave all that you were behind.”

He was right, but that didn’t mean she
appreciated his dictatorial attitude. Why was he acting so
cold?

“Are you angry with me because I went out
alone?” Or was he angry about what had happened at Benfield? She
hadn’t seen him since then, and while her insides quivered like a
Christmas jelly, he seemed cool as frost.

He shook his head and moved to the
mantelpiece, keeping his face averted from her. “I’m not angry.” He
turned, and his frigid expression had disappeared. “We need to keep
the identity of your mother secret. Who knows about her?”

Goodness, the list could be endless. “The
employees at the theatre.”

“Excellent, I can take care of them. It’s
really too bad you didn’t use an alternate surname, however.”

She smiled wryly. How many times had she
thought that same thing? “I might’ve done if I hadn’t already
introduced myself to you as Miss West.”

He arched a brow. “Yes, and keeping me from
the truth was very important.” His tone reeked of sarcasm.

“To Louisa,” she gently reminded him. While
she hated that Louisa hadn’t trusted him, she wanted him to know it
hadn’t been her preference.

He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Who
else?”

She searched her memory. “My mother died not
quite a year ago, and I lived with her most of the time during the
past seven years.”

“That long?” he asked. “How did you manage to
stay—”

“Innocent? It was difficult at times, but the
one thing my mother was good at was protecting me.” On more than
one occasion she’d provided special favors to keep Olivia out of
harm’s way. Olivia couldn’t quash a shiver of revulsion.

Jasper came toward her. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Living with Fiona
was…problematic.”

He paused before her, a bare arm’s length
away. “Tell me.”

She could at least be honest with him about
this. “I asked about your fighting because it frightens me. Several
of her lovers hit her. They liked to inflict pain.” She gave him a
piercing stare, wishing she could see all the way into his heart.
“You don’t like that, do you?”

His pale eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
“No. Did any of these men hurt you?” His hands fisted.

Just the one when she’d tried to intervene on
Fiona’s behalf, but she couldn’t tell Jasper that. Not when he
already looked so furious. She couldn’t encourage him to have
violent thoughts. “No. They hurt Fiona. The last one pushed her
down the stairs, and she died.”

He exhaled. “I’m sorry. That’s not why I
fight,” he said, the ire dissipating from his gaze. “You saw what I
did for Mrs. Reddy. I would never hurt a woman.”

She knew that, in her heart. Still, a man who
enjoyed violence unsettled her. Not that anything Jasper did should
matter—what he did had no bearing on her. Their relationship
existed for Louisa. If not for her, they would part and never speak
again.

“What do you plan to do about the theatre
employees?” she asked.

“Aren’t there more than just them? What about
your mother’s lovers?”

Olivia recalled Mr. Clifton and Lord Prewitt.
The former had been quite certain—and accurate—in his recognition,
while the latter had only supposed. Or had he? For all she knew,
he’d made the connection and was even now spreading the
on-dit
about London.

“There were so many. I don’t know if any of
them would recognize me.” Clifton didn’t circulate in the same set,
and so Olivia didn’t see the point in mentioning him, but she had
to tell Jasper about Lord Prewitt. She swallowed. “There was one
instance…”

His eyes flashed and he moved forward a half
step. “What? Tell me.”

“At the Faversham Ball, Lord Prewitt said I
looked familiar. He didn’t mention Fiona’s name, so for all I know
he could’ve thought I looked like his childhood governess.”

Jasper pressed his lips into a thin line. He
looked a bit like his father just then. “Doubtful. But you say he
didn’t seem certain?”

“It was a passing comment, and that was days
ago now. Surely we would know if he’d started a rumor?”

He nodded. “Probably. Still, I’ll need to do
a bit of investigating.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Ensure none of these people mistakenly say
you’re Fiona Scarlet’s daughter.” He turned and walked to the
windows, presenting his back to her.

“Louisa said people would believe what we
tell them, that no one would be boorish enough to contest what she
said.”

“Perhaps.” He turned. “I also wanted to ask
about your trip on the heath the other day. You never told me where
you went.”

She wanted to block that horrid visit from
her mind. “I went to see my aunt. She was my foster mother.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you lied about living
in Devon?”

“No, no,” she rushed to say. “My uncle died,
and she moved to Cheshunt to live with relatives. Since she was
close, I decided to pay a visit.”