TuesdayNights (16 page)

Chapter 22

Ruination on a Tuesday

April 11, 1815

Michael awoke with a start, his heart hammering in his chest. Glancing around, he wondered what brought him awake so quickly when the remnants of his dream had him relaxing back into the mattress.

Olivia!

Tonight would be the night, he realized, a bit of sadness mixing with the anxiousness he felt. Did every potential groom go through this agony when they knew they were about to marry? About to marry because they had done something to require a wedding to take place?

Tonight was also the night he was expected at the Ship. A soirée had been scheduled in honor of the latest business venture.

He would have to see to Olivia after he returned from the inn. A fitting place to be, he supposed, since he had saved her from ruination there and would be ruining her in her own bedchamber within an hour of his return to her home.

Would Olivia ever forgive him for what he was about to do? Even if she never wanted anything to do with him, he had certainly harbored feelings for her since that day they had met at the Ship.

Perhaps someday she would allow him into her bedchamber, or she would come to his. And if she ever submitted to him, he would take care to make their first time together as painless as possible. Then he would make love to her as he had imagined doing in his daydreams.

He was sure Olivia would not be shy about her body – not like Eloisa seemed to be. Olivia was so poised, so comfortable at conversation, and so very smart. She would challenge him, to be sure, but wasn’t that part of why he was so attracted to her?

Michael shook himself a bit, annoyed that he’d allowed his thoughts to run away from him again.

He was even more annoyed that his cock was quite hard.

Concentrate
, he thought.
Meetings
. He would be spending the day in a meeting with Harold. At some point, he would have to tell the man of his intentions. Until then, there was business to discuss.

Getting out of bed, Michael shaved, dressed and made his way to the breakfast parlor to join the Waterfords for their morning meal. “Good morning,” he said as he entered the room, giving a bow to Louisa. Harold and George were also seated and just starting to eat as Michael helped himself to coffee at the sideboard.

The lady of the house grinned and offered a nod in return. “Good morning, Mr. Cunningham. And how are you on this fine day?” she wondered, indicating the window with a wave of her hand.

Michael glanced out the window, surprised to see clear skies. “I am well, thank you. And you?” he replied, wishing he really did feel fine.

Louisa gave a wan smile. “I admit, I would feel better if my daughter wasn’t about to leave us. I suppose Harold feels the same, although he won’t be the one to tell you,” she said with a quirk as she indicated her husband. Harold was mostly hidden behind the latest issue of
The Times.

“Will Miss Waterford be joining us?” he wondered, thinking it was unlike Olivia to be absent from breakfast.

Harold looked up from the newspaper. “She’s already eaten and left for Shipley.”

Alarmed, Michael hesitated at taking a seat. “Is that ... safe?” he wondered, thinking of the Shipley Gang. He was prepared to run after her, insist that he walk with her to provide protection.

“Mr. White took her in the carriage,” Harold said, holding up a hand as if to stay Michael’s sudden urge to leave the table. “She said she has to purchase a few things for her trip to Wiltshire,” he added, giving his guest an arched eyebrow that suggested he was annoyed by the idea of Olivia becoming a governess.

Relaxing a bit, Michael turned his attention to his plate of eggs and kippers. “You would really let her go?” he asked,
sotto voce
.

Harold gave a one shoulder shrug. “She is of age. There’s apparently nothing for her here,” he replied sadly. “And that’s the extent of what I’ll say on the matter.”

Michael realized the man was annoyed with him.
And he has every right to be,
he thought. He would have to tell Harold what he intended to do. Before the day ended, he would have to ensure that Olivia would marry him.

Eloisa arrived at Waterford Hall later that afternoon, her sudden appearance unexpected by even her mother. “I took the postal coach,” she said as she hugged Louisa and Olivia. “And I don’t have to return to London for several days.”

Her happiness at seeing her family was infectious, making the evening a lively affair for the entire family.

“Do you ever see one another in London?” Louisa asked of her eldest daughter and Mr. Cunningham. They were having walnuts and coffee before dinner. “On your daily walks or whilst shopping, I mean, of course,” she added as Eloisa’s face turned a pleasant shade of pink.

“Yes, actually,” Mr. Cunningham replied with a casual nod. “Once a week, I suppose,” he added as he caught Eloisa’s eye and then explained with a most innocent tone, “Her townhouse is very near to my own.”

Louisa tittered and seemed happy that her Eloisa knew someone in the city besides the few relatives they could claim.

Michael noticed how differently Olivia and Eloisa behaved with one another compared to the time before Eloisa moved to London.
Mature young women
, he thought, noticing how they seemed to appreciate one another more, as if they no longer felt a need to compete with one another for his attention.

Twice during the meal, though, he was aware of Eloisa trying to do just that. He gave her a nod to indicate he understood, wondering why she seemed eager to meet with him privately.

He found out shortly after he and Harold finished their port and cheroots in the library. Michael stayed behind, pretending to look for a book to take to his bedchamber. Eloisa entered the room and quickly shut the door behind her.

Standing before Michael, she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “You do not have to be my protector any longer, Mr. Cunningham. Arthur has asked if he can court me.” She said the words with such grace, Michael was left wondering if she thought he would refuse to allow the match.

But her words were a huge relief.

Michael smiled, of course, feeling relief for himself and happiness for Arthur. And for Eloisa, too, of course.

“Have you told your family?” he wondered, thinking her good news would be a welcome counter to what he was about to do to Olivia.

“No,” she replied as she shook her head. “I will speak with Olivia. In the event Mr. Huntington and I marry, I am hoping she will stand with me at my wedding,” she explained. “But, I fear she will already be in Wiltshire before that happens.”

Michael shook his head. “I have reason to believe she won’t be,” he replied carefully. “But, if so, I am sure her new employer will allow her a trip to London for the nuptials,” he offered. “I can claim the Duke of Somerset a close friend,” he added by way of an explanation.

Eloisa gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you, Mr. Cunningham. For everything you have done for me,” she said quietly.

“You’re welcome, Miss Waterford.” He took Eloisa’s hands in his, wished her happy and then kissed her on the forehead. At the risk of being discovered alone with her, he stepped away and gave her a bow before leaving the library.

A few minutes later, Michael excused himself from the Waterford home. Having received an invitation to a soirée at the Ship, he made his way to the village. On the way there, he realized he hadn’t seen Olivia by herself all day. There was a point at which he thought if he had, he would simply pull her aside and propose. Perhaps she would agree to marry him without the benefit of a courtship and a planned wedding.

Michael was on his first pint of ale with Angus MacFadyen when they began sharing anecdotes about their childhood. Both from Horsham, the two knew one another from their youth, and several of the men in attendance were also familiar to him. Others he had met during his frequent visits to the Waterfords.

There was talk of the waning iron smelting industry and the jobs that would be lost if the newest ventures did not pan out. There was talk of Harold Waterford and his involvement. And there was talk of Waterford’s daughters.

What of Eloisa? they wondered.

Angus seemed to ignore the question, but the barkeep watched Michael as he told them the story of her husband’s early death in the war and explained that her mourning period was ending. Apparently, Harold hadn’t told anyone but Angus about his eldest being married at one time. A couple of the patrons took that to mean that Waterford didn’t think much of his daughter’s husband, so it was just as well she was a widow now.

Michael regarded Angus with a frown. “Did you ever court Miss Waterford?” he wondered, remembering a time when the barkeep seemed to favor the young woman.

Shaking his head, Angus considered how to reply. “Except for the occasion when she asked me to kiss her, I have had nothing to do with the chit,” he answered simply.

His eyebrows raised in surprised, Michael was about to ask for more details when he a group of patrons captured his attention.

When will you be claiming the second daughter as your wife?

Surprised, Michael wondered why they thought he had a claim to Olivia. He didn’t think he’d been overt about his affection for the younger daughter. He doubted Harold Waterford had told the villagers that a deal had been struck where he could marry Olivia if he was still without a wife on the eve of his twenty-eighth birthday.

The man hadn’t even told his daughter.

If he had, she probably wouldn’t have applied to be a governess for his sister.

At least, he hoped not.

“Waterford’s warned off every other suitor,” Angus stated, leaning in to give him a punch on the shoulder. “Says you made your intentions very clear when she wasn’t yet old enough. Figures you were first, so you get the gel,” he added with a wink.

Michael grinned, thinking at first the barkeep was joking. But as the evening went on and the story was corroborated by other patrons, Michael reddened with embarrassment. He wondered how many of those in the Shipley area knew of Waterford’s declaration.

If Olivia Waterford was to be his wife, then so be it, he decided as he ordered his second pint. He had considered her the lone candidate for the position for several years. He wasn’t impressed by any of the other young ladies he’d been introduced to over the years. His mother was desperate for a daughter-in-law. And there was the promise he’d made to her, and his own sister’s suggestion on how he could have Olivia without courting her.

And, in the middle of his second pint of ale, Angus MacFadyen became the third person to remind him he was about to be twenty-eight. In fact, wasn’t his twenty-eighth birthday just over a week away?

Michael felt a bit of panic on hearing the reminder again. But now that Arthur Huntington had asked to court Eloisa, he was sure those two would marry. He was nearly free of his obligation to Eloisa.

Now he could concentrate on his own wedding. He could concentrate on Olivia. He could concentrate on how he was going to make her his wife.

He remembered how he had awakened that morning, his only thoughts about Olivia. All his dreams about Olivia.

Olivia was the only woman he had ever felt any kind of ...

Damnation! he realized as he set down his tankard and stared into the mirror behind the bar.
I have been such a fool!
he thought suddenly. I love her. I probably have since that day I rescued her from that kid who tried to kiss her in the inn’s yard.

This inn’s yard.

Michael was still staring at his reflection in the mirror when Harold Waterford showed up at the Ship and took a seat next to him. Before Michael could properly greet the man that would be his father-in-law, he stated, “I need to marry your daughter before a week come Friday.”

Michael would never forget the look on the older man’s face – the perplexed but then very pleased expression topped by a set of bushy eyebrows that danced a bit before Waterford sat up straighter and finally replied, “Forgot your twenty-eighth birthday was this year, huh?”

Michael cocked his head to one side and gave the man an apologetic nod. “I lost track of time,” he admitted sadly.

“Then you’d best get to it, son.”

It was as if the man was giving him permission to simply take his daughter. There was no negotiation, no promises to be kept, no conditions.

At least, not that night.

And what was the quickest way to win a wife but to ruin a young lady’s reputation? And be sure there were witnesses to attest to his overt behavior?

I am a rake! he thought suddenly. How can do I this?

Returning to Waterford Hall with Harold, Michael gave the man a heartfelt apology before making his way up the stairs. Pausing in front of the door to Olivia’s room, he pressed an ear against the wood and listened, wondering what he would do if she were awake. When he heard no sounds, he unlatched the door and simply marched into her room, removed most of his clothing, and climbed into her bed.

Olivia was on her side, facing the wall, her breaths coming in soft sighs he barely heard. Michael enveloped her body with his, soothed by the feel of the smooth linen of the night rail that covered her. The scent of roses in her hair filled his nostrils. Hair like silk, he thought as his fingers gingerly stroked it.

He wrapped one arm over her arm, his hand cupping her breast as he pressed the front of his body against her back, his thighs cradling the back of hers. His arousal was suddenly apparent behind his smalls as his manhood tried to find the space between her thighs. In a voice almost too husky to understand, he said, “My beautiful Olivia, please be mine.”

‘Please, don’t scream,’ might have been a better choice of words, but then they wouldn’t be discovered by her forewarned father and three unknowing servants.

Olivia’s body suddenly stiffened. He heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her hand atop the one covering her breast, her fingers gingerly rubbing his knuckles before her panicked yell for help filled the room and the hall beyond. Michael held her more closely, kissed the back of her head, and allowed his nose to take in the scent of all of her until the door flew open and he was discovered.