Lady Olivia To The Rescue (8 page)

He rose to leave, but before he could speak, the butler entered again.

“Mr. Pendleton.”

“Good morning, Mr. Pendleton. Do come in and join us,” said his hostess.

Sheridan had no choice but to sit down again. With a nod, he said, “Pendleton.”

“Good morning, Miss Hepplewhite, Lord Sheridan.”

“Would you care for some tea?”

“Yes, thank you. I have just come from the solicitors. Is Lady Olivia here?”

“No, she and her henchman have gone out. I don’t expect her home for hours. Where she gets the energy, I cannot imagine. Was it something urgent?”

“Not at all. I merely wanted to tell her…” He hesitated, glancing at Drew. Then he shrugged and said, “I suppose it doesn’t matter as you were there the other day anyway. I have just signed the papers to deed over that bit of land for Lady Olivia’s school.”

“Has she the funds to build it?” asked Sheridan.

“I don’t know. I plan to give her something toward the building, and I know she always gives, too, but I have no idea where the rest of the money will come from. I only know that what Lady Olivia sets out to do, she does,” said the old man.

Just then, the doctor returned to the room. Sheridan rose. “Come and take my seat, Mr. Jenson. I really should be going.” He bowed over Amy’s hand and turned to grin up at her. She rolled her eyes heavenward but said nothing.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

“Lord Sheridan,” they said in reply. Sheridan was whistling this time as he walked along.

It was odd that the boredom that so often overtook him when in London had vanished. In its place was a sense of purpose, a sense of pleasure and expectation.

Sheridan continued his ambles, this time heading toward his tailor, Weston’s, on Conduit Street. There he ordered a new waistcoat in a daring bishop’s blue and a new riding coat, too. For a member of the
ton
, Sheridan spent remarkably little time on his wardrobe. His clothes were of excellent quality but his colour palette was invariably conservative. The blue brocade waistcoat would seem a little out of place in his cupboard.

From Weston’s, he continued on to Piccadilly. Here, he went into Hatchard’s and stopped at the front desk. His daughter, Rebekah, had asked for the latest novels, and he wanted to surprise her with a package sent to her school. On a display stand near the door was a book about steam engines. On a whim, Sheridan had the clerk wrap this up, too, for Arthur at Eton. It was just the sort of thing his bookish son would devour.

As Sheridan left the store, he stepped back to allow two giggling young ladies to enter with their maid. Tipping his hat, he was arrested by the sight of his friend Richard strolling along the pavement. The beautiful Lady Olivia was on his arm, laughing at something the rake had said.

There was nothing clandestine about the two. They were out in the open, in daylight. But he couldn’t help wondering what had brought them together. Amy Hepplewhite had said that Olivia was out for the day with her servant as a companion. There was no servant in sight. Not that there had to be for propriety’s sake—not in the middle of Piccadilly.

He had assumed she was out doing good works. He had assumed her errands were those of helping others. He had assumed entirely too much.

Sheridan turned toward home. He would write letters to his children and give the letters and the books to his secretary to post. There were several matters his secretary had asked him to look into personally so he would spend the rest of the afternoon attending to business.

Upon arriving home, he found a note from Richard. He tossed it aside then retrieved it. Opening the envelope, there was only a short message.

Sheri,

Instead of going together, meet me at Vauxhall tonight. I have a few things to do first and will be running late.

Richard

Sheridan crumbled the note. He toyed with the idea of simply forgetting their engagement. No, he would meet Richard there. What reason could he give for not going? That he had been in the doldrums over seeing his friend with Lady Olivia?

That wasn’t true, of course. He had no reason to resent Richard and Lady Olivia going out together. He had been angered only at the thought that Miss Hepplewhite had dissembled to him, had led him to believe that her niece was out on business.

And that, if he examined his motives closely, was not really true either. Sheridan, who prided himself on being truthful with others to the point of bluntness, was now lying to himself.

But he didn’t care, couldn’t care, what Lady Olivia did or did not do. And he certainly didn’t care with whom!

Sheridan bowed his head as it began to throb.

Had the world gone mad, or was he the only one?

“Hell and blast!” he muttered.

Olivia arrived home with time to spare before dressing for dinner and her evening jaunts. She discovered her aunt prostrate on her bed, a cool cloth on her head.

“I cannot go out tonight, my dear. I feel far too weak.”

“I am sorry, Aunt. I hope you are not sickening with what befell Pansy. Should I call Mr. Jenson?”

Her aunt sat bolt upright on her bed and said, “No! That is what started all this in the first place!” She fell back and the feather mattress let out a little whoosh.

“Oh? You have the headache because of Mr. Jenson?” said Olivia, her tone teasing.

“No, not because of him. Rather it was because of entertaining him and Mr. Pendleton. Do those two not realize I have other things to do than sit in the drawing room with the two of them looking daggers at each other?”

“Looking daggers? Daggers of jealousy,” said Olivia with a giggle.

Her aunt glared at her. “You are not the only one with gentlemen callers, my girl.”

“Certainly not, Aunt. I meant nothing by it. I hope you recover quickly from your indisposition.”

“I shall be fine, dear. I merely have the headache—a particularly wicked one, but only a headache.”

“Very well, I shall leave you to Jinks’s ministrations.” Olivia opened the door, but she couldn’t resist one last quip. “Unless, of course, you need me to send for the doctor.”

“Baggage!” said her aunt.

“Rest well, dearest.” Olivia blew her aunt a kiss before shutting the door.

Olivia went downstairs and wandered out to the garden. It was a lovely place to sit in solitude. Large shrubs lined the walkways, hiding her from anyone who might peer out the house windows. In the middle was an open patch of grass dotted with small flowerbeds. Here, she discovered the three-legged dog, Hasty, playing with Hawkeye. The cat raced from one flowerbed to the next, turning his head to the left so that with his one eye he could see the dog coming.

“You will have to do better than that,” she said to the dog. He paused in his play and ran up to her, wagging his stubby tail with pleasure. “Good boy, Hasty. Now, go back to entertaining our friend. Tire him out so he will not want to play with my toes under the covers tonight.”

As if he understood her, the dog trotted back to the flowerbed where Hawkeye lay in wait. Springing into the air, the cat fled behind the next bed while the dog followed, repeating the same pattern again.

Olivia sat down on a stone bench to watch. A moment later, a shadow fell across her, and she looked up to find Harold waiting patiently “Yes, Harold?”

“Mr. Witchell said to give you this letter that Mr. Pendleton left for you.”

“Thank you.” He handed her the letter and turned to go, but she stopped him. “Harold, we are going out tonight.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

“To Vauxhall.”

“Oh, m’lady, not that idea again. It’s too dangerous.”

“Not with you there. And we did rescue that one unfortunate girl.”

“But you shouldn’t be…”

“Now, Harold, would you deny others the chance to live a decent life? No, I thought not. I understand that in the dark pathways, there are any number of…ladies, looking for a…job. I plan to find those poor, wretched girls and help them.”

“Very well,” he said.

“And you may rid yourself of that hang-dog look. I need your help, Harold.”

“I still say it is too dangerous, my lady.”

Olivia, however, only nibbled her lip for a minute and then said, “True, I did find that part of it rather uncomfortable. Very well, then we will each take along a pistol. I will keep one in my reticule, and you shall carry one in your pocket. You remember how to use it, do you not?”

“Aye, Mr. Pate taught me just fine. Why don’t we take Rattle with us? Better yet, what if I take Rattle, and we see what we can do by ourselves?”

“What? No, that would never work. The only thing you and Rattle alone would get is in trouble. But it would be a good idea to take Rattle for extra protection. Yes, tell him for me and see to it that he is armed, too. Then it is all settled. My aunt is not feeling well, so tonight will be the perfect opportunity for us to find those girls in need of our help. We leave at nine.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

Dressed in black with only his snowy cravat lighting his appearance, Sheridan set out for Vauxhall to meet his friend. He made the short journey by carriage, arriving at the gates and sending the driver away. Carriages lined the street, their drivers and footmen clustered here and there as they waited for their wealthy masters and mistresses to return.

Passing a sleek landaulet, Sheridan frowned. The crest on the side looked familiar. He continued on his way trying to remember where he had seen that particular crest. Then it dawned on him. It was the same as the crest on the huge traveling carriage that had taken guests to the picnic at Pendleton’s estate. It was Lady Olivia’s carriage.

Was it only a coincidence that Richard had invited him to Vauxhall this night? And was this the reason that Richard had not been able to travel to Vauxhall with him? Perhaps Lady Olivia was the thing that had occupied his friend all afternoon.

Sheridan frowned at these theories. He was becoming entirely too concerned with Lady Olivia. What if Olivia and Richard’s meeting in the afternoon had led to an assignation this evening? It was no concern of his.

He continued on to the Rotunda, always looking for Richard. From there, he tried the walkway to the waterfall. There was still no sign of his friend.

Grumbling in frustration while his stomach grumbled with hunger, Sheridan wandered through the darkened paths. He would give Richard another thirty minutes, and then he would leave.

Giggles and a deep voice made him take another direction. Before he knew it, he was quite turned around. The orchestra in the Rotunda was little more than a whine. He stopped and listened for a moment to get his bearings.

The moon had risen. When Sheridan turned a corner, he could see the silhouettes of two people in a small clearing ahead, both females. One was clad in an elegant gown, but the other was dressed in a gown that was almost transparent in the moonlight—an odd combination. Sheridan edged closer.

“I’m not doin’ too bad fer m’self, your ladyship.”

“I’m sure you are not, Mary, but there are better ways to earn a living. I can help you.”

“’Elp me t’ live like me mum, scraping out a livin’ and dyin’ o’ starvation? No thanks, says I.”

“It will not be like that. I will see to it that you learn a skill, and while you are learning it, you will have a decent place to live.”

Sheridan stepped closer, disbelief powering his feet. It was Lady Olivia, speaking to…but that was impossible! Surely, she was not so foolish.

“Look, I have written my direction on this card. If you should change your mind, come to this address.”

“I don’t know. I…”

“What the devil is going on?” growled Sheridan, stepping into the moonlight.

With a little screech, the girl vanished, leaving Lady Olivia alone to face him.

She bent to pick up the piece of paper. Shaking it, she stormed up to him and said, “Now look what you did! I almost had her! ”

“Dash it all, woman, have you lost your senses?” he shouted.

“Dash it all yourself, sir! I am here on a mission of mercy, and you have seen fit to ruin it! There is no telling where that poor girl will ends her days, thanks to you.”

She lifted her hand to slap his face, but he caught it handily.

Bringing his face close to hers, he spat out, “You don’t want to add to your foolishness by doing that, my dear.”

“Oh!” she yelped and stomped on his foot.

He threw her away from him. “Hellcat!”

“Overbearing popinjay! ”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his chest. “Have you no sense? Do you have no idea what kind of danger you are in, wandering these dark alleys alone?”

“I am not in any danger.”

“Oh? And what is to prevent some ugly customer from doing this?”