“Why?” he asked.
“Because,” Olivia said. “It is the type of thing a wife should know.”
Again, he laughed. “Oh, do you feel like a wife now?”
She blushed furiously then stared at him and said, “Of course. Now, what is it? Not something strange I hope. Surely not Aubrey, or Zebedia.”
He chuckled, pleased to learn she had retained her sense of humor.
“No, James, My father’s name.”
Olivia smiled softly then said, “James, yes, that makes sense. A good name.”
He turned to leave then turned back to look at her, draped with a sheet, her bare shoulders exposed, her long legs hanging over the side of his bed. Her hair disheveled, her face flush with a night of making love. Yes, a true treasure.
“I will not return until late this evening. If there is anything you need to accomplish before we leave town, I suggest doing it today. Tomorrow’s preparations and packing will fill the day.” He told her.
She unconsciously gave him that little pout of hers. Something new from Olivia. He hadn’t believed the woman had it in her to pout. But she did it so well.
A burning need to join her filled him. A strong desire to toss aside all of his obligations and return to partake once again of the heaven that he would find in her arms.
No. That way lay ruination. Instead, he sighed heavily. “I will have them send up a bath,” he added as he gave her one last look, a quick smile and left. All the while, his soul fought with itself. Berating his idiocy for turning from such pleasure.
As he drew away from the room, he slowly came to realize just how difficult his plan was going to be. The concept of making Olivia fall in love with him. Surrender herself to him was never going to be easy. But suddenly, he realized just how dangerous his course was to be.
.o0o.
Olivia felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she watched her husband leave. He hadn’t mentioned anything about their liaison. No indication as to whether he had enjoyed it. Nothing. Just a quick smile and a promise of a bath.
Damn the man, damn him to hell. He hadn’t even stirred the fire for her.
Wrapping the sheet around her she scurried across the cold floor to throw two logs onto the fire. What now? she wondered. What was expected of her?
Gritting her teeth, she punched at the fire with the iron until it caught and burst into flames. Damn him, she thought again. Not one word. No sweet endearments, no compliments. Nothing. She felt used and put aside.
Yet, wasn’t that what she had asked for? A simple liaison. A cold and distant relationship. Yet, now it felt wrong. She sighed heavily as she heard Mary stirring in the next room, probably preparing her bath. Once again, a wave of unhappiness washed over her as she realized what she had lost.
Bradford had been so much more than she had expected. Tender, fierce, attentive to her needs yet commanding. So many things wrapped up in one very handsome package. The night had been a marvel. Yet, now the morning called and her real life must begin.
Why had she made that silly condition that he would bed her only at her request? What a fool she had been. He had maneuvered her into a trap. It seemed impossible to imagine asking him to take her to his bed. Too humiliating. It would be admitting that she desired him. That she needed him. No, she could not give him such power. Besides, the shame would surely kill her.
Taking a deep breath she poked her head into her room to ensure Mary was alone. Her maid looked up from the bath and flashed her a quick smile. Once she recognized that her mistress was not in distress, the smile grew even wider.
“It is almost ready My Lady,” Mary said, “I had them warming the water for hours, I assumed you would want one.”
Olivia returned the smile the best she could. Accept the wonderfulness of the night and accept that such nights would be few and far between because heaven could return to earth before she begged James Bradford to take her to his bed.
Damn the man.
.o0o.
Bradford found Warwick at Brooks, residing at their normal table. The Lord looked up, surprised to see Bradford approaching.
“I didn’t expect you today,” Lord Warwick said. “Your wife has finished with you already? I am surprised.” The strange look he shot Bradford made his stomach tighten into a firm clench. He really was worried about him.
Bradford frowned as he slipped several banknotes across the table. “These are yours I believe.”
Lord Warwick took the notes and smiled. “It is so much fun taking money from you and Nathanial. Knowing that you can afford it so easily does not diminish the pleasure one bit.”
Bradford chuckled and signaled for a drink.
“Really,” Warwick said. “I expected you to follow Nathanial’s example. We rarely see him here now that he is married. I was rather sure of myself that you would follow the same pattern.”
Bradford scoffed. “Nathanial is in love with his wife. She controls his life. Mine is a marriage of convenience. Remember?”
Warwick paused for a second as he examined his friend. Bradford felt uncomfortable under his friend’s perusal. Warwick started to say something, but changed his mind and shifted in his chair.
“I have word of Lady Bradford’s kidnappers.”
“Really,” Bradford said as he leaned forward. That was quick work.
“Yes, we believe the leader has returned to London,” Lord Warwick told him. “One of Jocko’s contacts recognized the painting of the dead man and placed him with a John Cooper of Chelsea. He is known in the seamier parts of town.”
Bradford’s heart jumped with anticipation. “Should I delay our departure? We are to Basingstoke the day after tomorrow.”
Warwick shook his head. “No, it may take weeks to run down this man. Do not worry. Once we find him I will send you word. You can be back in a day. We won’t let him slip through our fingers. I promise.”
Bradford nodded. He was glad, he realized. He wanted to get Olivia away from London. At least until these kidnappers had been dealt with. He had Evans hire extra footmen for the house and for the estate in Basingstoke. Once he had her there he would be able to relax, ensured of her safety.
“I wondered if the man behind this might be Brookstone,” Bradford said, referring to the man who had tried to take Lady Alice. “I still can’t believe that the Lords let him live.”
Warwick shook his head, “They were not so kind. His titles and lands were stripped and he has been exiled. For a man like Brookstone, there could be no worse punishment.”
“Still,” Bradford said, desperate to find the perpetrator and deal with him.
Warwick continued to shake his head. “No, he was the first I thought of as well. But I am informed that he is currently in Canada, working as an Inn Keeper. No, believe me. It is not Brookstone.
Bradford sighed heavily. He had hoped his search would be easy. And this time, the Lords would not be given the chance to free Olivia’s attacker.
“You know Bradford,” Warwick said as he tilted his head to study his friend, “something is different about you this morning.”
Bradford swallowed hard and shrugged his shoulders. Nothing was different. Nothing had changed.
Then Warwick smiled and slowly shook his head.
“What?” Bradford demanded.
Warwick grinned as he said, “It must be the love bite on your neck. It marks you as a newly married man.”
Bradford’s hand shot to his neck. Olivia had been more amorous than he had anticipated. Fighting to hold back a blush, he finished his drink and got up to leave.
“Be sure to get me word when you find our man. I will not have Nathanial or Jocko dealing with what is my responsibility.”
“Of course,” Warwick said with a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of coming between you and your duty.”
Bradford felt as if Warwick were talking about two different things but shifted it out of his mind. He had several more calls to make this day. Best he got on with it. The sooner he was
done, the sooner he could return home to Olivia.
The thought surprised him and sent a cold shiver down his spine. No. that way lay failure for sure. Putting aside the feeling building inside of him, he nodded to Warwick and left.
If he had turned he knew he would see Warwick studying him with a knowing look. A look that said he saw more than Bradford would ever acknowledge.
Chapter Fifteen
Olivia welcomed her friend Amanda with a quick hug then asked Evans to send in some tea.
Her friend stepped back from her hug and furrowed her brow as she studied her.
“Are you all right?” Amanda asked.
“Of course,” Olivia replied with a casual wave of her hand. “Why wouldn’t I be.”
Amanda laughed. “It is the day after your wedding. The day after your wedding night. I honestly did not expect to hear from you so soon. Yet this morning, a note arrived saying you wished to see me. I must say, it is other than normal.”
Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “We are going to Basingstoke the day after tomorrow and Bradford said if I needed to deal with anything I should do it today because tomorrow will be so busy. I am leaving town and wanted to see my best friend one last time before I left. That is all.”
Amanda bit back a smile and slowly shook her head. “Olivia you really are the worst teller of tales.”
Olivia slumped in her seat. “That’s what Bradford said.”
“What happened? Really, are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
“Who Bradford,” Olivia exclaimed. “Never, no.”
“Then what?” Amanda said. “I know you, Olivia, you wouldn’t have sent for me if it wasn’t something you couldn’t deal with. And I have always found those things to be very few. So, what is the problem?”
Olivia studied her hands and slowly shook her head. Suddenly she couldn’t look her friend in the face.
“Tell me, Olivia. Was it … Was the experience so shocking.”
Olivia remained quiet for a moment as she tried to organize in her own mind exactly what bothered her. Bradford had done nothing wrong. No, far from it. Yet still, she was troubled.
Amanda sighed slightly. “Tell me, Olivia. Remember, I will never marry. So, I am living vicariously through you. What happened?”
Studying her hands, Olivia looked up at her friend and smiled. “What where you and Lord Warwick discussing so intently at our wedding feast?”
A small hint of pink flashed across Amanda’s cheeks as she shrugged. “Nothing important. Double entry bookkeeping if you must know.”
Olivia laughed. “Oh Amanda, that is so you. One of the most eligible bachelors in England. And you are discussing bookkeeping.”
“He asked,” she replied defensively. “And his supposed eligibility is in serious question. I don’t know if I like the idea of an English Lord having such intimate contacts with smugglers. You don’t know what I learned during your … absence… The man is intimately familiar with the less than honorable smugglers up and down the English coast.”
Fighting to stop herself from laughing, Olivia gently shook her head. “Think about it, Amanda. Why would an English Lord, a good friend of the Regent, a trusted advisor to the Prime Minister, during a time of war? Why would such a man be in close contact with smugglers? What could he possibly desire to introduce or remove from our nearest enemy?”
Amanda’s mouth dropped open as the realization sank in. “Spies? He deals with spies? Spies working for our government, I hope?”
Olivia smiled reassuringly. “I believe so. Also, I know of at least one time that he slipped into France himself to retrieve information. I know this because Nathanial and Jocko helped him. They won’t tell me, but I can put two and two together.”
“But he would have been hung if he had been caught,” Amanda said with disbelief.
“Or worse,” Olivia replied.
Amanda’s face slowly turned white as the ramifications became real to her. Everything she had thought about the man was wrong. Olivia gave her time to adjust to this new reality.
Amanda continued to study her lap for a long moment then she looked up and smiled slightly. “Very good Olivia. You changed the subject. We haven’t dealt with your problem. And I refuse to leave until you tell me everything about last night. Was it really terrible?”
Olivia laughed, “No, unfortunately, it was not. It would be easier if it were.”
“Then what?” Amanda asked with exasperation.
“I don’t know how I can explain,” Olivia said.
Amanda simply raised an eyebrow as she waited for her friend to continue.
Olivia sighed heavily. Perhaps by expressing her feelings, she could determine what was bothering her so much about the evening with Bradford.
“It was wonderful. More wonderful than I could ever have known.”
Amanda rocked back in her chair, surprised. “And that is a problem because?”
Olivia swallowed, “Because, I foolishly made demands. Demands before I realized what I was dealing with.”
“And they were?” Amanda asked, her eyes big with expectation.
Olivia sighed. “I demanded that all future … liaisons only occur when I request them. That I would be in charge of when and where.”
Amanda’s lips pursed as she took in her friend's statement. “Very well. Again, that is a problem why? I thought you preferred to be in control. Doesn’t this fit with your desires?”
Olivia fought to hold back a tear that was forming at the corner of her eye. “Don’t you see,” she said in frustration. Amanda shook her head, obviously lost.
Olivia looked down as she said the words that she had been terrified to say. “Don’t you see. I can’t ask him to my bed. I would be admitting that I need him. That I want his attention. Don’t you see, it will mean that he has won.”
Amanda looked shocked for a second then a wide grin broke out on her face. “So, let me see if I have understood this correctly. Your rich, powerful, very handsome husband makes you feel … wonderful in bed.”
Olivia nodded, as Amanda held up a hand to stop her from interrupting.
“And to experience this feeling, again and again. All you need to do is ask him.”
Again, Olivia nodded.
Amanda laughed, “And the idea of asking him is terrifying. Is that correct?
Olivia’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Her friend had expressed the issue perfectly.
“Well then,” Amanda continued, “it is obvious that you have made a fatal error.”
“What? Where?” Olivia asked, desperate to find the problem and fix it.
Amanda laughed. “You, Lady Bradford, have fallen in love with your husband. Which if I am being honest is not surprising because I believe you have been in love with the man since you fell out of that apple tree seven years ago.”
Olivia reeled back in shock as a sudden wave of fear washed over her. No, it was impossible.
Amanda just sat there, a large smile on her face. A smile that made Olivia angry, how dare her friend bask in her misery.
“Don’t worry Olivia,” Amanda said, “I wouldn’t worry, I am sure it won’t last.”
Olivia sighed thankfully. “Really?”
“Oh, I am sure. I would say forty, perhaps fifty years from now and you might be over it.”
Her friend’s laughter sent a bolt of pure terror through Olivia’s heart. Her friend was right. She had fallen in love with Bradford. As to when, that was beside the point. What was critical was the fact that she was trapped in a marriage to a man she desperately loved who did not love her in return.
Could there ever be a worse torture? Surely not.
Chapter Sixteen
Olivia studied Bradford from under her brow as the coach rocked back and forth. The man had barely spoken four words to her since leaving her side the other morning. Granted he had been busy and when he had communicated with her he had been courteous.
But yet, it was not what she wanted to hear.
; Sighing internally, she glanced out the window. Don’t obsess she told herself or he will surely learn the truth and that was something she was determined he never discover. Her very sanity might depend upon him never knowing how she felt about him.
She could well imagine the self-satisfied smug smile he would flash if he learned the truth. That insufferable look he could give when he had bested her. No, she would never give him the satisfaction.
No, if he could be cold and formal. She could as well. Heaven knew, there was nothing Bradford could do that she couldn’t.
As she turned back to study him, she marveled at how handsome he was. Black frock coat, crisply starched cravat, pressed pantaloons. It seemed as if he grew more handsome every day. Everything about him was fascinating. His long fingers, those wide shoulders. The way his hair touched the top of his ears. Everything drew her to him.
No, she chastised herself. Do not become lost in thoughts that could not be satisfied. Yet, the memory of their night together was never far from her mind. She would catch a hint of his sandalwood scent and she was instantly transported back to their bed.
Or, he would look at her sometimes. Their eyes would meet, and she knew instantly that he too was thinking of their time together. Yet he said nothing about it. Made no indication that it was of any significance.
Damn the man, she thought again. A saying that she was using way too often. But the man was infuriating.
“Tell me, Bradford,” she began, determined to shift her thoughts to something else, “you don’t keep two separate staffs. One for Basingstoke and one for London? The second carriage has Evans, Mrs. Webb, and several others.”
He shrugged, obviously not caring what she or anyone else thought about the matter. “Evans and the others understand my needs. It is so much easier and efficient if they transfer to Basingstoke each year. I spend the summer and perhaps a few weeks in the winter at my estates. The rest of the time I am in London. So…”
She nodded, it did make sense, and was so typical of Bradford. Where others might worry about what people thought. Sharing a staff between two residences. Bradford didn’t care. All he worried about was what worked best for him.
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