The Forsaken Love of a Lord (2 page)

“Blast you, Curtis.”

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment, simply assuring myself that you see my brilliant point.”

“You are vexing beyond words,” Edward muttered.

“I’ve been told I’m many things beyond words… however, most of those comments are from the lady population.” He grinned.

“Only you could find some way to make me actually
want
to discuss your sordid love life in efforts to escape the previous topic of conversation. How do you do it?” Edward asked in a wry tone.

“I’m far more brilliant than you give me credit for. It’s the looks. Most people take one look at me and think
,
‘Ah! All beauty, no brains.’
For honestly, it isn’t fair that I have a lion’s share of both.” Curtis sighed as if pained by it.

“And humility, scads of that as well.” Edward shook his head.

“I’m quite proud of that particular virtue, yes.” Curtis laughed. “Now, I’m going to attend the Bridgeton rout tomorrow. A certain someone will be there. Alaina…” He let the name linger.

Edward glanced heavenward, praying for deliverance to a God he wasn’t sure cared about him anymore.

At one time he had been so sure.

Now he was quite the opposite.

“Alaina?” Edward repeated.

“Yes, goddess of beauty herself.”

“And voice of a minion.”

“Do not say such things! Her voice is delightful… unique,” he added with a flourish of his hand.

“Annoying, not unique… annoying. I swear, I would rather listen to the screeching of fighting tomcats rather than hear her speak in that high-pitched, nasal tone.”

“You hide your true opinions so well,” Curtis replied dryly.

Edward scowled.

“At least I know I’ll have no competition from you. She’ll be mine for the taking.” He rubbed his hands together.

“I’d not dare stand in the way of true love,” Edward mocked.

Curtis shook his head and chuckled. “At least love for the moment.”

“One day, you’ll find some lady that will turn your head in such a way you’ll not even be enticed by another… and I predict that very lady will not give you the time of day. God’s way of punishing you for your many sins.” Edward spoke clearly as he strode to the wide chair behind his desk.

“Love advice? From you? My, it is a night of miracles,” Curtis replied with a mocking grin.

“Insolent—“

“Don’t be irritated at my keen observation and ability to articulate it so clearly. Now, back to the Bridgeton rout. You’ll attend, of course.” Curtis brushed some lint from his fine coat.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll not repeat myself.”

“Yes, you’ll attend! You gave your word two weeks ago. I knew you’d try to back out of our agreement since the arrival of Pierce family, but I shall not let you. I’ve been working on sweet Alaina for some time now. This is my chance.” He smacked his knee and stood. “You know I need you to attend if I’m to be allowed entrance.”

“Bloody hell, why in the world do you wish to be part of the
ton
? Have you met any of them? Vipers, the lot of them.”

“I’ve met you,” Curtis shot back.

Edward rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“You attended the Blackwood party without me—“

“But that was far less exclusive than the Bridgeton event. You know this.” Curtis all but whined.

Edward frowned.

He hated that his friend had a point. While Curtis was wealthier than Croesus, his money was made in trade, not inherited from an age-old title.

And his father, being the independent type, had refused to try and purchase a title on the sly, so their family was, while wealthy, still part of the blue-collar variety. And being part of that class eliminated them from receiving invitations from the exclusive parties of the
ton
.

Lucky blackguard.

So unless Edward brought him along, he’d not be able to attend. And as much as he wished it weren’t true, he
had
said he’d attend.

“I loathe you,” Edward ground out in defeat.

“It’s perfectly alright. I
adore
you enough for the both of us.” Curtis fanned himself like a lady.

Edward snorted.

Curtis grinned. “The lengths you push me to in order to lift your spirits. I’d think you be wise to thank the good Lord for such a friend as I.” Curtis nodded. Taking a moment to drain his brandy, he released a satisfied sigh and stood. “I’ll see you on the morrow. And… do try to smile. We wouldn’t want to frighten anyone,” he replied with a smirk and left.

Edward shook his head and stood to go and study the fire once more.

But even for the warm heat from the fire’s soft glow, his heart chilled, knowing that tomorrow, he’d have to face the very people he never want to see again.

Damn it all.

CHAPTER TWO

O
LIVIA BLINKED AS SHE
studied herself in the vanity mirror. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath she took, yet the rhythmic cadence didn’t settle her swirling emotions, her anxiety.

Why, oh
why
had they needed to come back to London? It had been so perfectly pleasant in Sussex with the wild wood behind the manor and the freedom to ride each day. It had been a dream.

And like a dream, had a distinct end.

She felt as if she were awakening from a cocoon of peace and thrown into a typhoon of activity and expectations — none of which she accomplished with grace. They had arrived a full week ago, and in that time her mother had packed their lives with more activity than the four previous years combined.

The modiste, the haberdasher, the modiste again, tea with old friends, those same old friends visiting and gossiping.

Oh, dear Lord, the gossip.

If she heard any more about Lady Woolworth’s out-of-fashion wig, or last season’s blue that was foolishly worn by some unfortunate spinster, she would scream.

Loudly.

Why were people so petty? Why did they even
care?
If those old clucking hens had nothing else to do other than chip away at others, then their opinions shouldn’t matter.

It wasn’t as if they were doing anything of value with
their
lives.

She’d mentioned as much to her mother.

Her mother had paused midstride. A second later, she spun then speared her with an icy glare. “You’ll never say such things out loud, again.
Understood
? You have a reputation to create. You have your name, your father’s title, the rest is up to you and you
will
make us proud.” She’d taken a step toward Olivia, her cold gaze narrowing. “Have I made myself utterly clear?” She’d articulated with lethal grace.

Olivia couldn’t find her voice. Never before had she seen such ice in her mother’s tone.

Unless someone mentioned Marybelle’s name.

Or Lord Langley’s.

But that was beside the point.

In that moment, her mother had been a stranger; rather, she’d looked just like those old biddies that Olivia had been speaking of.

It had been a chilling awakening; one she hadn’t quite recovered from. And she was beginning to realize that this whole return to London had one goal: she was a lamb to the slaughter. Already her mother had given her a
list,
of all things, naming the appropriate gentlemen for her to marry.

Marry, and she hadn’t been to one ball yet.

Wasn’t that all a bit premature?

It wasn’t as if she
had
to marry immediately. Why was her mother pushing her?

She dared not ask, not after the ice that chilled her from the first question. Though she hadn’t ever been particularly close to her mother, the separation in their relationship only seemed to grow as time went on… especially now.

A calculating glint in her mother’s eye caused a chill to prickle Olivia’s flesh whenever they were in company. And for that reason she had avoided her mother as much as possible.

“Are you ready, Olivia?” her mother’s refined voice asked coolly as she began to twist the knob leading to the bedroom.

“Yes,” Olivia answered, because it was pointless to be anything but honest.

Her mother strode into the room, her eyes immediately assessing Olivia. “Oh, my! You’re breathtaking! Surely all the gentlemen will flock to your side in efforts to secure a dance!” She clapped her hands. “Hmm.” She paused and walked around Olivia, studying her closely. Her eyes narrowed slightly, causing a
V
to form in her forehead. Tugging at the fabric on her bodice, she shifted the neckline of the dress slightly, lowering it.

Olivia was quite sure it had already been too low.

“That’s better. We need you to draw everyone’s eye.”

Apparently those eyes weren’t to be focused on her face.

“Now, chin up, give a dazzling smile to each person who approaches you, and remember, under no circumstances—“

“Am I to speak to Lord Langley,” Olivia finished, though her tone was more exasperated than anything else.

“Yes. Now, I’ll wait for you downstairs. Your father has already ordered the carriage to be brought around front. Don’t dally.” Her mother nodded once and left in a flurry of emerald-green silk.

Olivia sighed in relief when her mother’s form disappeared from the room. Taking a deep breath, she glanced once again to the mirror. Would people compare her to Marybelle? She hoped not. Although, it helped that she looked quite different. Everything about Marybelle was rich, from the color of her lush crown of sable hair to her dark cinnamon eyes. Olivia took after her father’s side. Her slightly wavy hair was the color of butter — or so her mother had once said — and her eyes were a light blue. Where Marybelle had been soft and rounded, Olivia was more petite in stature and in form.

Olivia turned and evaluated herself once more, it was going to be such a bother tonight, to smile and play the pretty and ignorant debutant, especially when all she wanted to do was leave the sure-to-be-stuffy ballroom.

But there was one secret hope she harbored. Though she knew she was forbidden to speak with Lord Langley, there was no rule about
looking
at him. How she hoped he’d attend tonight. It was the one bright spot in the evening. Would he look the same? Would he remember her? Would his memories be of the innocent and playful variety before everything happened with Marybelle? Or would he look at her and simply see her sister and all the pain she had caused? It seemed as if the man he had
become
overshadowed the man he
was
, the man she remembered. Others saw his hardened heart, the reclusive exterior, but Olivia remembered the man she knew hid within.

While the rumor — which she’d learned from the aforementioned old clucking hens — was that he was after revenge. Olivia had made the decision to pursue something far more dangerous.

His heart.

“Olivia!” her mother’s voice called.

“I’m on my way,” Olivia called back and strode to the door. Pausing, she grasped the top of her dress and pulled it up, higher than it was before her mother had
adjusted
it. “Much better,” she mumbled and left.

“Here we are.” Curtis rubbed his gloved hands together, the stark white of their soft leather in bright contrast with his evening kit.

“Indeed. Please allow a moment for my heart to recover from its delighted racing,” Edward replied with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Curtis ignored him; already his eyes were scanning the sea of men and women, searching for Alaina.

“Why her? I’ve never understood… I’m assuming it’s a passing fancy,” Edward asked quietly.

“Of course it’s a passing fancy! She’s a widow, she’s wealthy, and she has no need for any strings to support her…” Curtis wagged his eyebrows.

“Rake.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I wasn’t saying it as a compliment.”

“Oh, I’ll still pretend you did.” He shrugged and returned to his search.

“Delude yourself all you wish,” Edward mumbled back.

Curtis gasped and smacked Edward’s chest. “Please tell me that angel that just walked in with Lord Pierce is
not
Marybelle’s sister. Lie, if you must.”

Edward was watching Curtis’ expression.

Bloody hell.

Curtis had the far-off, lovesick-swain appearance of one besotted.

He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to think. All he wanted to do was turn around and walk back out the door and drink himself stupid at White’s.

Because he was quite sure it
was
her.

But he was curious… damn it all. So with a fortifying breath, he followed Curtis’ fixed gaze.

It sure as hell was Olivia, Marybelle’s young half-sister. As a child, she had been adorable, sweet, and kind — truthfully, everything that Marybelle hadn’t been. Though in his defense, he hadn’t known it. Olivia had grown from that adorable little girl to a diamond of the first water. Her golden hair glittered like a halo as she walked gracefully into the room. The soft lavender pigment of her dress somehow highlighted the creamy hue of her skin. He couldn’t see her eyes from this distance, but he was sure they’d be a sparkling blue, just as he remembered them. Her body was petite, yet perfectly proportioned; her gown accented the fact far too clearly. Edward cleared his throat and glanced away. His eyes scanned the room, searching for distraction. “I think I see Alaina,” he remarked in a tight tone.