The Elusive Wife (8 page)

“Well, whatever the solution is, I’m afraid it’s yours to discover. I have an appointment with my tailor.” Drake headed toward the door. “Will you be at the Pembroke affair tonight?”

“Yes,” Jason waved in dismissal, still studying the bills.

Chapter Eight

Olivia’s breath hitched as Jason entered the ballroom. The coming-out ball for the Pembroke’s oldest daughter, Sarah, was well underway. Hundreds packed the ballroom and dining area.

Lord and Lady Pembroke had spared no expense to provide the first of their three daughters entering society with an outstanding come-out. The full orchestra played an aria from what Olivia recognized as
Le Nozze di Figaro
by Mozart, one of her favorite operas. The room held enough of the
ton
to qualify as a “crush,” which would make Lady Pembroke extremely happy. The Pembroke girl had dressed in the traditional white, with her lovely golden curls pulled up into an intricate and sophisticated arrangement. Her beauty and grace had already taken the
ton
by storm.

Across the room, Jason passed through the receiving line and glanced around. Olivia turned her back and continued to speak with Elizabeth and the several gentlemen surrounding them, most of who maneuvered to get closer.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, making her aware the Earl of Coventry stood close. It annoyed her to know this. She wanted no connection to the man. Nevertheless, her heart sped up and she found accessing a lungful of air quite a difficult matter. Of course that was due to the amount of people crowded into the room, she assured herself. She waved her delicately painted fan in front of her heated face.

“Good evening, Lady Olivia.” The deep voice slid through her like warm liquid from her ears to her toes.

“My lord.” She turned and curtsied gracefully. Her glance rose to his eyes, a big mistake. The man could only be described as beautiful. She itched to smooth back the one black curl that continually fell on his forehead. The devastating smile he flashed should be illegal. He wore an excellent-fitting dark blue evening coat over his well-defined muscles, the crisp white intricately tied cravat contrasted with the light tan of his skin. His formal black cloth breeches encased powerful thighs, which Olivia tried very hard not to stare at.

“Dare I hope you saved a dance for me?” Jason covered her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes twinkling as he met hers.

Why did this man affect her so? She should hate him for what he did to her, but instead she melted at his touch and got lost in his eyes. “Yes, I believe I have one or two left.” She smiled, irritated at the breathless sound of her voice.

Jason reached for the small card dangling from her wrist. “A waltz, perchance?”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but all four are taken.” Heat rose from her middle to spread to her face. She fought the urge to hurry to the French doors and gulp in air.

He turned the card over. “Lord Carstairs won’t be able to take his waltz, so you may put my name in his place.” He flashed her a lazy smile he most likely had perfected to get his own way since he was in the cradle. Bowing slightly, he left her and headed toward the gaming room.

Olivia studied her card. Lord Carstairs had secured the supper waltz. She fanned her face furiously.

Blast Jason’s high-handed methods. He’d not only forgotten her, but apparently the fact that he was married. Or had Lord Arrogant expected to have a typical
ton
marriage where no one looked askance at men who took lovers and mistresses? She drew herself up and squared her shoulders. After witnessing the love between her parents, it went against the grain to have that type of marriage.

And what type do you have now?

At this point she had to deal with Jason holding her in his arms and then sharing supper together. How would she handle it? Good thing she wasn’t hungry because the knot in her stomach would prevent anything settling there.

“What did Lord Coventry want?” Elizabeth returned from her dance with Mr. Sayer.

“He wanted a dance.” She spoke quietly, to avoid the interested ears of the young men surrounding her who had witnessed the exchange.

“And? You look perplexed.” Elizabeth slid her arm through hers and they strolled the room before the next dance started.

“Because he usurped Lord Carstairs to take the supper waltz.” Brows furrowed, she continued to fan herself.

Elizabeth threw her a sharp glance. “Hmmm. This whole thing has taken quite an interesting turn.”

“It certainly has, but I’m becoming more and more uncomfortable with the deception.” Olivia lowered her voice as she nodded to several acquaintances.

Something had to be done soon, for she did not possess the temperament to carry out a charade for long. The entire conundrum disquieted her. Even though very drunk at their wedding, it had never occurred to her she’d made such an insignificant impression on the man that he didn’t remember her at all.

“Yes, this situation can’t continue indefinitely,” Elizabeth broke into Olivia’s thoughts.

“Indeed.”

…

Jason surveyed the gaming room. Tables crowded the space, various games of whist and vingt-et-un in progress. Footmen circled the players with drinks—real whiskey, not the light wines of the ballroom.

Jason sauntered to a table set against the back window. Four players concentrated on a game of faro. He took a chair and watched the play for a while.

“Care to join us, Coventry?” The Earl of Dartmouth glanced in his direction as they finished up the hand.

“Maybe later.” Jason nodded at the young man gathering up his winnings. “A word, Carstairs?”

Lord Carstairs had recently come into his title by way of his two elder brothers’ unexpected deaths. Never having anticipated this state of affairs, he gambled too much, drank excessively, and thought of himself as a man about town. All in all not a bad sort, just needed time to grow into his title.

“What can I do for you, Coventry?” the young pup said.

“You can forget the supper waltz with Lady Olivia, as I will be taking your place.”

Carstairs flushed a deep red. “Now see here.” His jaw tightened. “I’ve been trying to get a supper waltz with the lady for the last three balls. Why should I give it up to you?”

Jason stared at the young man with a look he usually reserved for regarding an opponent over a dueling pistol. “You should give it up to me because I asked.”

“Deuce take it, Coventry, that isn’t a good enough reason. I find the lady most interesting, and I plan to pursue her.”

“To what end, man?” He chuckled. “You’re still wet behind the ears. Now do me this favor, and I will be in your debt.”

Jason watched the young man argue with himself. Apparently coming to the conclusion having the Earl of Coventry in his debt could be beneficial, he inclined his head. “’Tis yours.”

Jason gave a curt nod and continued on his way around the game room. Spotting Drake at a table on the far side, he headed in that direction. In the middle of a game of loo, his friend never glanced up, his lips tight in concentration. After observing for a while, Jason joined the game.

Noting the time, Jason gathered his winnings. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the men still at the table and left. It didn’t take him overlong to find Lady Olivia, almost as if an invisible cord connected the two of them. He wandered over and joined the small crowd surrounding her. Busy conversing with Elizabeth, it appeared she tried her best to ignore him.

“My lord.” Elizabeth curtsied.

At least
she
hadn’t ignored him.

“Lady Lansdowne, a pleasure as always.” An uneasy feeling of missing something always settled over him when in the presence of these two ladies. Before he had time to dwell on it, the musicians began the first few strands of the supper waltz.

“My lady.” Jason turned to Olivia.

She curtsied and he extended his arm. It pleased him to feel the tremble in her hand as she touched him. Lady Olivia continued to stare at a small spot on the intricately tied cravat at his throat when he gathered her in his arms. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his when he placed a finger under her chin, and tilted her face up. He smiled at her reluctance and swirled them into the dance.

Holding her was torture. No matter how much he felt the attraction to Lady Olivia, with a wife floating somewhere around London he needed to rein himself in. If only he’d met Lady Olivia before his sire had selected a wife and left him no way to avoid the dictate.

He frowned at the light scent of lavender that emanated from her hair. The same scent he’d discovered still lingering in his wife’s bedroom at Coventry. No doubt a popular fragrance with the ladies.

“Are you enjoying the Season, my lady?” He guided her past a couple of dancers they were about to crash into as they made their way around the ballroom.

“Yes, my lord, I find it fascinating.” Her perfect white teeth glowed in the candlelight as she smiled.

“Then I’m to assume this is your first?” He shifted them to avoid another collision with Lord and Lady Townshend, who glared daggers at each other. A reminder why arranged marriages had never held an appeal.

“Yes, it is my first Season.” Olivia soft voice drew him from his musings.

“Where have you been hiding yourself, that we have not had the pleasure of your company until now?”

She still trembled, and a definite blush crept up her neck as she chewed on her lip. “I have been traveling with my father.”

“Really? And where have your travels taken you?”

She slid her gaze from his, appearing uncomfortable with the question. “Here and there, my lord. My father was a scholar.” Smiling brightly, she added, “I assume you have seen many Seasons.”

He hesitated and chuckled at her attempt to re-direct the conversation. “Yes, more than I care to count.” Silence fell as they continued around the room. He found it difficult to control his body when around this woman. The feel of her soft skin, the light scent of lavender, and the wisps of curls blowing softly around her face in the candlelight mesmerized him.

It had been a long time since a woman had affected him so. Why did he have to meet the one woman he could possibly fall in love with, after his father had pulled his stunt? The need to find his missing wife and get her consent to an annulment became paramount.

The dance ended and Jason slipped her arm in his. After a bit of searching, he found them a seat near the French doors.

As Lady Olivia settled herself, he bent and spoke close to her ear. “See if you can secure two glasses of champagne.”

Jason headed to the buffet where he filled dinner plates with cold pheasant pie, curried rabbit, wild duck and quails. On two smaller plates, he placed dried fruit, cherry tarts and a lemon custard.

“I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I brought a little of everything.” He set the plates on the table and took his seat.

In between bites, he studied her as she pushed the food around her plate. Her heightened color and shaking hands told him what he’d suspected. Lady Olivia was definitely nervous.

He reached over and placed his warm palm on her cold hand. “Do I make you nervous, my lady?”

She glanced at him, her eyes wary.

Is that panic in her eyes?

“Not at all, my lord. Why would you say so?” She licked her lips, and Jason’s loins tightened. He could think of so many uses for those lush lips. They could start with a kiss, then move down to his chest, his waist…He shifted at the discomfort in his trousers.

Jason lifted one eyebrow. “I have the distinct impression you are uncomfortable in my presence.”

She shook her head furiously and gazed at his chest.

Yes, definitely nervous
.

He removed his hand and they finished their meal in strained silence. Drake joined them, along with his sister, Abigail. Just out last year, the young girl had received offers, but being an indulgent father, His Grace had allowed her to decline them all. The Melbourne children, having observed their parent’s love match up close, were determined to have the same for themselves.

“Lady Olivia.” Abigail curtsied to her. “Are you enjoying your first season?”

“Yes, I am. I understand this is your second.”

Abigail nodded. “Yes. I’m enjoying it all so much, I may never accept an offer.”

“’M’sire wouldn’t be too happy about that, I’m afraid.” Drake regarded his sister fondly.

“I don’t understand why men can go year after year without selecting a wife, but ladies are expected to accept an offer within a year or two. It doesn’t seem quite fair.” She directed her comments to Olivia, who nodded her agreement.

“You’re fortunate the pater allowed you to finish last Season without accepting an offer. The Duke is swimming in modiste bills,” Drake said.

Abigail wrinkled her nose at her brother. “And what of your gambling debts? And your tailor bills?”

“I am the heir.” Drake regarded her with raised eyebrows as if that declaration said it all.

Jason stood and pulled out Olivia’s chair. “I suggest we return to the ballroom where you two can continue to compare the Duke’s receipts.”

“Coventry, darling, there you are. I haven’t seen you in absolutely ages.” Lady Sheridan wrapped her arm around his, and stroked his chest in an intimate manner.

“My dear, I thought you were out of town.” He disentangled himself from her hold.

“No, silly man, I told you
Sheridan
was going out of town. And anyway, that was simply ages ago.” Suffering Jason’s rebuff, she latched onto Drake’s arm and directing her comments to Jason, coolly assessed Olivia. “I saved the last waltz for you, darling. I know how much you enjoy waltzing.”

“That was very kind of you, my lady, but I’m afraid I was about to take my leave.”

“Another
appointment
, Jason?” She pouted.

“You might say that.” He bowed slightly. Turning his attention to Olivia, he said, “It’s been a pleasure, Lady Olivia. Lady Sheridan,” he added, kissing his former mistress’s hand. “My regards to your husband.”

“My lord.” Lady Sheridan inclined her head.

“Lord Melbourne, you must introduce me to this
charming
lady.” Selena’s voice trilled behind Coventry as he made his exit.

…

Olivia bid a good night to her maid and climbed into bed. There were many things to be said about a London Season, and not all of them good. Already weary with the undercurrent of nastiness at almost every event she had attended so far, tonight’s introduction to the beautiful Lady Sheridan had rattled her. The woman had glared at her in such a manner Olivia had felt the need to step back when she made her acquaintance. She would have dismissed the entire encounter if it hadn’t been for the conversation she’d overheard later in the evening while in the ladies’ retiring room.