The Seduction of Lady X (14 page)

The blood drained from Alexa’s face. “It is not my wish—”

“Yes, you have made it crystal clear that it is not your wish. Do you think it is Mr. Tolly’s wish? Or
mine?
Have you not considered that perhaps Mr. Tolly made the offer because he knows that the alternative for you was so much
worse
?”

Alexa pressed her lips together. “I beg your pardon. Of course I know what you mean, but please understand that this has all been quite difficult for me. And I do not want to impose on Mr. Tolly, as he has professed his esteem for Lady X, and he’s also inherited, and I do not wish to be a burden.”

Inherited!
What did that mean? Olivia’s head was beginning to ache.

“Good God, Alexa, that is not your affair!” Mr. Tolly said.

Olivia was suddenly exhausted. “Please go, Alexa. Go and lie down or something,” she said, waving her hand to the door.

Alexa blinked at her. “But I—”

“No. I cannot bear to hear any more from you today. You have imposed on our relationship and Mr. Tolly’s generosity without a thought and have shown yourself to be utterly selfish.”

Alexa gasped. Tears filled her eyes. “Livi, how could you?” she asked weakly, but Olivia waved her hand at the door again. She could not tolerate her impossible, imprudent sister another moment.

With a wide-eyed look of hurt, Alexa left without another word.

Olivia didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Mr. Tolly. But when she did at last, his gaze was intent on her.

“You didn’t have to tell us about your . . . mother,” she said uneasily.

He smiled at her discomfort. “I have nothing to hide, madam. And I think she needed to hear it. She will eventually accept the truth. At present, I suspect she is full of fear and uncertainty about the rest of her life.”

He was right. “Thank you,” Olivia said gratefully. “I know that must have been difficult.”

He shrugged.

She swallowed and looked at her hand. “You have inherited. I was not aware.” She glanced up.

He hesitated, then said, “I think the circumstances are questionable. And it has no bearing on this.”

“It has every bearing on this.” Her heart felt as if it were shrinking. “Will you be leaving us?”
Please say no, say no . . .

“No,” he said quickly. But then he looked down and amended, “That is to say, I don’t know.” He suddenly turned about. “There are many uncertainties, madam, but I think the most pressing issue is the problem of your sister. I shall go straightaway and make some inquiries, if I have your leave?”

Olivia could not think. It felt as if the earth were cracking beneath this house, preparing to swallow them up.

“Madam?”

“Yes,” she said, and glanced to the window. Air. She needed air. “Thank you, Mr. Tolly. As always, thank you.”

She heard him go out of the room, and she remained standing, her body stiff, her breath shallow.

What would she do without him? How would she bear it?

A
lexa Hastings was a petulant, inconsiderate, disagreeable child. Harrison had alternated between wanting to shake some sense into her and sending her off to nap. How in heaven would he ever help the chit find a proper situation? And what exactly
was
a proper situation? Marriage? He prayed that acquaintances of the Carey family kindly forgot their arithmetic when the child was born, but he had no hope of that. It amazed him how dangerously inept some members of the Quality could be when balancing their own books, but how accurate they were in calculating the point of conception.

A governess? He snorted. Even she should have known that was impossible with a growing belly. No parent would care to explain to their children why their governess’s belly grew without a husband about.

Companion? That was perhaps his only hope—to foist her on some lace-capped doddering old widow in need of someone to keep her company while she warmed her feet at the hearth. Harrison wracked his brain. He had to think of at least one widow because he could
not
marry Alexa Hastings.

But he knew he would, if no other solution could be found. He would because he had to protect that unborn child from the life that he had experienced.

As Harrison rode into Everdon, he methodically examined every conceivable angle, dismissing them all as either too public or too cruel. He couldn’t bear to see Lady Carey distraught. But he couldn’t bear to think of her with another bruise, and like her, he feared that if the situation with her sister was not quickly resolved, Lord Carey’s ire would grow. Harrison no longer knew what the man was capable of doing. The drink seemed to have washed away his senses.

He arrived at the Cock and Sparrow to seek the counsel of Robert Broadbent, his closest friend. Robert was a blond-haired, brown-eyed bachelor squire who had a reputation for seducing widows and young ladies alike. He was the master of a small estate, an excellent hunter and gambler, full of personal ambition and a zest for living. Harrison had been hunting woods and public houses around Everdon Court with Robert for more than ten years.

The proprietor of the public house greeted Harrison when he strolled inside. Benny was as thin as a weed, and his wife was built like a barrel. “Mr. Tolly!” Sue said as she wiped up some spilled ale from a table. “We’d wondered where you’d gotten off to.”

“Did you miss me, then?” he asked, and grabbed her chapped hand to kiss her knuckles.

“You know I did. I always miss you when you don’t come round, love.” Sue smiled coyly.

Harrison laughed and winked. He turned around and came face-to-face with Fran, a serving girl. “Did you miss me?” she asked as her gaze wandered the length of him.

“My days were incomplete without you,” Harrison said, and stepped around her.

“Perhaps you missed me enough to pay a call, then, eh, Mr. Tolly?”

“Never.” This from Robert. He was seated at his usual table in the common room, from where he held court most days for an hour or two, receiving his friends and dining on watery stew. “If Mr. Tolly pays a call to any woman, it is to Lady X,” he said, grinning.

“Lady
X,
” Fran said, looking half intrigued and half jealous.

Harrison laughed. “Do not give up hope, Franny. There is no Lady X.”

“The hell there isn’t.” Robert held up two fingers to Fran. “A pair of ales, lass, and be quick.”

“I’ve got them just here,” Benny said, appearing at Robert’s side. He placed two tankards of warm ale before Harrison, who slid one across to Robert.

“Where’ve you been, then?” Robert asked, and drank from the tankard. “What madness has the marquis frothing at the mouth this week?”

“He does not froth,” Harrison said easily. “He’s to London for a fortnight.”

“A full fortnight? Without you?” Robert said, waggling his brows. “Your Lady X must be all atwitter. How long’s it been since you’ve had time to steal away to the lady’s boudoir?”

Robert would be shocked if he knew how long it had been since Harrison had been inside a boudoir. “A while,” he said with a sigh. On occasion, when he was in London, Harrison called upon a house tucked away near Regent Street to relieve his lust. But he’d found it impossible to forge any romantic attachment with any woman, given his feelings for Lady Carey. He could think of no one else.

Robert grinned at him. “A while, is it? And here you sit with a pint. You’re mad, lad. Go on with you then, go and see your ladylove. Tell me where she is and I’ll see you there.”

Harrison chuckled and drank his ale.

“Bloody tight-lipped rooster you are,” Robert said, eyeing him shrewdly. “I’ll discover her identity, you know,” he said, and tapped his pint against Harrison’s. “Why are you here when you’ve got a bit of freedom?”

“Because I’ve a bit of a problem for which I need your help.”

“Me?” Robert asked. “The advice usually flows the other way between us, aye? What help?”

Harrison pushed aside his pint. He’d shared very few things about his work with Robert through the years, as his discretion was one of the most important aspects of his occupation. This problem was doubly painful, as it was embarrassing for the Careys and brought to mind the difficulties Harrison had experienced in his own life. Difficulties he had managed to put behind him. But now, he recalled the first time he’d realized what it meant to be fatherless in this world, when three older boys had fallen on him as he returned from market, beating him as they labeled him a dirty bastard. Or when his mother’s lover had given Harrison a tutor, but had told his mother in front of Harrison that he would not put him in school for fear of being associated with the by-blow.

Harrison swallowed down those old hurts and said, “May I speak openly?”

“Aye, you know that you can, Harry.”

He glanced around to assure himself that no one was listening in. “It has to do with her ladyship’s younger sister, Miss Hastings. You’ve met her, have you not?”

Robert nodded. “Wee thing, with hair the color of honey.”

Harrison relayed to Robert what had happened, including today’s debate. He trusted Robert, and told him everything . . . except that he’d so rashly stepped in and offered to marry the impudent girl. That omission was a matter of pride—he did not want Robert to know just how foolish he was.

When he’d finished, Robert drained his pint and put it aside. “This is a sad but common tale, lad. I suspect a convent in Ireland is no worse than what the lass might experience in society, given the marquis’s determination to banish her.”

“She deserves better than that,” Harrison said curtly. “Give me a solution, Robert. Tell me what might save this bloody little fool and keep her close to her sister.”

“Harry, lad,” Robert said sympathetically as he leaned back in his chair and propped his boot against the wall. “You do not need me to tell you there is no better option for her, unless you magically produce someone who will marry her. Even then, I suspect Carey would disown her outright and save himself a deepening scandal. If she were to marry very quickly, she might spare them a bit of scandal, yet still . . .” He shook his head. “What gentleman would give his name to a bastard child? Not I.”

Harrison knew better than anyone that gentlemen did not freely give their names to bastard children. “I had hoped you might know of a situation where we could at least send her for the term of her confinement.”

Robert snorted. “You know very well that I do not, on principle, acquaint myself with the sort of decent folks who would take a lass in.”

“Aye, but you do acquaint yourself with widows,” Harrison pressed. “Perhaps you know of one in need of a companion?”

“I only keep company with young, comely widows, and not one of them would entertain it. Come to think of it, I haven’t been with a young widow in an age. Bess Walls was the last I—”

“Old widows, then,” Harrison said impatiently, before Robert began enumerating his conquests.

“No,” Robert said.

It was as Harrison had guessed—there was nothing to be done for Miss Hastings. Or for himself, for that matter. He’d been confident that he’d find a solution when he’d intervened yesterday and had offered to marry Alexa; finding solutions to seemingly insurmountable problems was his gift. But his bag of tricks now felt woefully light. He had succumbed to the look of terror on Lady Carey’s face that afternoon in the marquis’s study and had opened his foolish mouth, and now he would have to live up to his word.

“For you, Harry, I shall do my best to uncover someone that will assist.” He smiled. “Cheer up, lad.”

“Thank you Robert,” Harrison said. “Any help you might offer is greatly appreciated. And I needn’t tell you that time is of the essence.”

Harrison finished his pint and talked about other things before riding dejectedly back to Everdon Court and the dowager house. He wasn’t giving up, not yet. He decided he should have a talk with Miss Hastings out of Lady Carey’s earshot. A talk in which he would lay down the rules of their association and impress on her that he would not tolerate her bad behavior.

Rue was inside the small foyer, polishing a brass planter, when Harrison walked in. “Good afternoon, Mr. Tolly!” She continued to rub the planter.