by Mandy Goff
“Mother must have broken the window before she did…it. She wanted us to think she’d been murdered. It was easier than the stigma of her suicide. I thought it would be easier for you, too.” He kneeled down in front of her, his eyes beseeching, asking for forgiveness.
But she had nothing to forgive him for. It was herself she was most upset with. For years, she had carried a lonely burden that her brother had apparently shouldered in silence as well. Had she but had the faith in him to confess the truth, all of her pain could have been avoided.
When she thought about it, the situation was so absurd she feared she might start laughing and never stop.
“Olivia,” Marcus asked again, “are you feeling unwell? You’re beginning to frighten me.”
“Mother didn’t care enough to hide her intentions. I made it look like someone had broken in and killed her,” she said almost soundlessly. “Yet everything I did to protect you was worthless—you already knew.”
“You…?” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.
“When Finley told me he had the letter, I looked.” She turned to him with beseeching eyes. “You have to believe me. I would never have agreed to his scheme if I had known the truth.”
“Slow down,” her brother’s voice was urgent. “What are you talking about?”
She turned her own eyes to him, eyes holding years of secrets and shame. “When Finley asked me to marry him, I said no. But then he told me he had the letter. He said he would make it public—would ruin our reputations—if I refused to be his wife. So I said yes. Even though I knew the match would upset you, I said yes—so I could protect you. And instead, I just made things worse.”
Her brother seemed to be struggling to absorb what she’d just told him.
But she couldn’t give him the time to come to it gently. Now that she had revealed the truth, the words tumbled out of her mouth without any stopping.
“It is I who must apologize to you. I’ve lied for so long, any time I thought about telling the truth, the situation seemed too far gone to know where to begin.”
Marcus raised himself off the floor, reaching out and enveloping her in a hug as she stood. He squeezed her tighter than he ever had, and while the hold bordered on the verge of being painful, she didn’t say a word.
“We were both foolishly trying to protect the other,” he said. “There is nothing to forgive.”
A new, sudden, sickening thought occurred to her. She’d destroyed her chance at marriage with the one person in the world she loved all for the sake of an unnecessary lie. The truth of it staggered her.
“I need to sit,” she gasped.
“Olivia?” But Marcus’s voice suddenly sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. The edges of her vision were blurring black as well.
“Olivia?” The pitch was higher, but the sound was farther away.
Then she heard nothing.
For the first time in her life, she’d fainted.
Marcus carried Olivia to her old bedchamber, called a servant to watch over her and barricaded himself in his study. The revelations of the morning were still swimming in his mind, making him feel as though he was no longer in touch with reality.
How had he not known what Finley was planning?
When the baron had approached him at Westin Park asking for Olivia’s hand, Marcus should have seen through Finley’s anger at being denied. Marcus had, of course, suspected Finley’s finances were not what he wanted everyone to believe they were, but he’d never imagined Finley possessing the gall to blackmail his sister.
To blackmail her with something he didn’t even possess.
How foolish had Marcus been not to anticipate the threat, or to see through Olivia’s sudden fascination with someone so unscrupulous?
Marcus’s first reaction was to head straight for London…and pummel Finley. Yet while that might have been instantly gratifying, Olivia’s well-being had to be his primary concern.
And Marcus knew just who could help his sister.
Hours later, Marcus, dusty from a breakneck horse ride, marched up the steps to the Marquess of Huntsford’s country estate. He said a prayer of thanksgiving that Nick had sent a message to let him know he would also be retiring to the country. London was too far away to make it in time. But as it was, Marcus had only to travel a short distance to find and retrieve his friend.
After three raps, the butler warily pulled open the door.
“My lord,” the man greeted.
“I’m here to see Huntsford,” Marcus said curtly.
The butler looked torn by indecision. “I’m not certain he is available…” But he let the sentence die as Marcus narrowed his eyes.
“See if you can’t make him available.” Marcus had to be careful to rein in his temper. Unleashing his fury at Finley on his innocent friend would make matters worse and upset Olivia when she found out.
Well, she was going to be upset enough after she found out he had come to play the mediator. There was no need to give her extra impetus to be angry with him.
Mathis disappeared, leaving the front door open but without having invited Marcus in. But Marcus took the lack of a closed door as an invitation to enter anyway. He stood rather awkwardly in the front hall, wondering what excuse Nick was going to give as to why he couldn’t see him. Not that an excuse would matter much to Marcus; he planned on having his say whether Huntsford was inclined to listen or not.
“His lordship will see you in his study,” Mathis said as he descended the stairs.
Marcus was in such haste he didn’t stop to thank the butler. He took the stairs two at a time, suddenly eager to help the soon-to-be-wedded pair mend their lives together.
Nick wondered what Marcus’s visit meant. Was he here to berate him for what had happened with Olivia? Or to offer unsolicited counsel? In truth, Nick didn’t feel like entertaining guests, but he could hardly turn his oldest friend away. That was why, against his better judgment, he’d told Mathis to send him up. And if it was a lecture he was coming to deliver, Nick would rather get it over with.
There was no knock at the door, no pretense of asking permission to enter. Marcus looked like a man sent on a holy crusade, solemn and determined to overcome any obstacle in the path of his mission.
“You look awful,” Marcus said without preamble.
Nick could feel the stirrings of a laugh in his chest, but he restrained the urge. “I’m sure you will forgive me if I don’t thank you for the observation.”
“I’m not here to flatter you, anyway,” Marcus returned brusquely.
“Why are you here then?”
“I’ve got something of yours I think you might want back.”
“What would that be?” Nick asked, interested in spite of himself.
“Your fiancée.”
Nick tried to ignore the sudden furious pounding of his heart. Of course, Olivia was with her brother. He didn’t think she’d run to Finley. Right?
“Last I checked,” Nick began, “we were no longer betrothed.”
“Don’t you want to mend things?”
“I don’t think it much matters if I would like her to come back. She has to make her own choices.”
Marcus appeared to ponder before delivering his own verdict. “Stop acting like an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, Olivia has some things to tell you. I won’t take that right and obligation away from her. The fact is she needs to be the one to say them, and you need to hear them from her. But both of you need to stop acting like idiots in order to clear things between you.”
“Should I assume you have given her a similar lecture?”
“Not precisely. Not yet,” Marcus smiled sheepishly. “I’ve no wish to lose any more of my artifacts, especially not over my own head.”
Nick thought this through. He loved Olivia. That seemed to be the only thing he could say with any certainty. But just because you loved someone didn’t mean she automatically returned the sentiment. Th
e poets heralded the pain of unrequited love, and Nick could understand now what the fuss was all about.
The question was, did he want to fight for her? He felt God had groomed him to be Olivia’s other half, and he knew God had ordained a marriage to be a lasting commitment. He also knew that as a husband he was to love his wife and be willing to sacrifice anything for her. But all of his desires and wishes would pale in comparison to whether she wanted to give him a chance to prove his loyalty and devotion to her.
But he had to try.
“She’s your sister,” Nick began slowly, wondering how his request for information would turn out. “What do you suggest I do to make things right?”
Marcus’s smile was swift and mischievous. “How are you at wooing?”
In that moment, the camaraderie between the two men seemed to be at once perfect and unbroken. “I’ve never had to woo a former fiancée before, but I suppose it shouldn’t be too far outside the realm of my capabilities.”
“Excellent,” Marcus decreed. “I’ll wait here while you gather your things to leave.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Olivia,” Marcus called softly, sticking his head inside her private sitting room.
She looked up from her position on the couch, where she had been, while not quite sleeping, at least resting. After her uncharacteristic fainting spell, the servants seemed unwilling to let her do anything but walk to a place to sit down. Which she had done for the whole day. And she still had yet to be released and given freedom.
“Where have you been?” she asked in genuine curiosity.
“I’ve been out getting you a present.”
“A present?” she echoed.
“Would you like to see it?” he asked, and she wondered over the obvious laughter in his voice.
“I think so,” she said slowly. Surely this wouldn’t be like the presents he had given her when they were children, which included dead rodents, bugs and, once, a particularly fearsome-looking garden snake.
“All right. I’ll send it in, and I will leave you alone,” Marcus continued. Truly, this was growing more unusual by the second. “Oh! I’ll be downstairs should you need me.”
And with the cryptic offer, he disappeared from the doorway. Olivia started to rise, rife with curiosity and eager to see what Marcus had acquired that was making him act so strange.
Nick entered the room.
“I’m afraid I’m not much of a present,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.
Olivia was speechless. She stepped backward until she could feel the couch against her legs, and then sat rather indecorously.
“Is your silence a joyous one?” he asked hesitantly.
If there were words needing to be said at that moment, Olivia could scarcely think of what they might be. All she knew was her heart seemed to be thrumming with more passion, more strength than it had for the past several days.
Nick was muttering under his breath, and Olivia had the absurd impression he was scolding himself, over what she didn’t know.
“Let me start over,” he said, coming closer to her. And when he kneeled before her, Olivia had to remind herself to breathe.
“I’ve missed you.” His words were soft, gentle and nothing like the tirade she had expected when they finally saw one another. He should be enraged! She’d broken the engagement. But there were no recriminations in his manner, no anger toward her.
“Have you?” she asked with wonder, hating the way her voice sounded so quiet, so hopeful.
He nodded. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“I thought you might like to be rid of me,” she said. The words were a test, and she held her breath, waiting anxiously for what he would say. “Never.”
She exhaled. And hope—something fragile and tenuous—budded within her.
Could it really be? Could it be that Nick, the man whom she had scorned, had treated so badly, wanted her back in his life?
“I—” she began.
“Did—” he started at the same time. A pause followed where neither one wanted to interrupt the other, so they just sat there. “You go ahead. There is plenty of time for me to say what I would like to tell you.”
“I haven’t been honest with you,” she said shakily. Could she really do it? Could she trust someone else with the information she was about to share?
Nick nodded encouragingly.
His open, honest expression gave her the resolve she needed. If she ever wanted any kind of future with this man, ever wanted to mend the bridges she had single-handedly destroyed, she had to say it.
“In fact, I’ve been lying from the moment I met you.”
Still there was no condemnation in his eyes. No shock. No horror.
Perhaps he would forgive her yet.
Olivia looked down then, not able to face him when she made the startling pronouncement. Perhaps it was cowardice, but if she didn’t have to look at his face, the words would be easier to say.
“I haven’t meant to hurt you,” she began again. “I haven’t meant to hurt anyone. And while my lies are by no means justified, you have to understand I lied to protect those I love. Everyone I love,” she emphasized. The cowardice had been defeated by a strain of bravery.
“It doesn’t make it right. And I can’t undo what I have done, but I want you to know my goal was to…” She took a ragged breath. Articulating her motivation was more difficult than she’d imagined. How could one put into words all of the pain she had endured alone in order to safeguard others from the ugly truth of reality?
Nick took her hands, and while still kneeling at her feet, he brought the two, cold hands to his lips, kissing them softly. “Perhaps it would help if you tell me what you did,” he suggested with so much softness and understanding, she thought she might weep. “I know your reasons were pure.”
“I don’t love Finley.” The words were so quiet she wasn’t sure she had spoken them aloud. Were it not for his gentle murmur of encouragement, she would have sworn she’d merely thought the truth. “I never loved him.”
She chanced a glance at Nick’s face. His eyes were bright and smiling.
“Marriage to him was the last thing I ever wanted.” She thought over those words. “Nearly the last thing I ever wanted. I agreed to his arrangement because I feared what he would do if I did otherwise.”
Confusion warred with dread in Nick’s face.
“Finley knew my mother wasn’t killed by an intruder.” This was the confession that had the potential to unravel everything she had worked so hard to disguise. Lord, give me the strength to speak the truth. “She killed herself.”
She paused then, giving him a moment to absorb the full impact of her words. He’d announced his engagement to someone whose mother had committed the most grievous of sins.
And his reaction was as startling as she had imagined it might be…but for another reason. He rose from his crouched position and sat beside her. In one swift move, she was cradled in his strong arms.
“My darling,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry.”
Unshed tears threatened to blind her, and the sobs she’d kept in for so long clawed and grasped to break free. “I made it look like a robbery,” she confessed. Listening to the steady pounding of his heart imbued her with a strength she had not thought herself capable of. “I thought no one knew. I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want anyone to ever have the vision of her I still…” She shuddered. She broke off, horrified by the memory.
“There was so much blood. So much blood. I couldn’t get it out of my dress later. I had to throw the gown away. But no one questioned. Not even Marcus. I thought my job had been thorough and convincing.”
He smoothed her hair, rubbing the errant strands back from her face. “You are very brave,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not,” she argued. Never, never did she want any one, especially Nick, to think her actions were born out of some courage she didn’t possess. The truth was much uglier. She had p
retended and lied because she was so afraid of anyone finding out the truth.
“I would disagree. You shouldered this burden all alone. For years, you’ve sacrificed yourself so no one would have to know.”
She turned her face into his shoulder, not wanting him to see the tears that had slipped through.
He pressed her tighter to him. “You’ve had to carry this all by yourself for so long,” he soothed. “You must be so tired.”
The simple observation, something that was so obvious and true, caused the floodgates to open. Years’ worth of tears and grief poured out from her very soul and soaked his shirt.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat cradled in the arms of the one person she was afraid would have rejected her. And while she didn’t want to be premature, it didn’t seem as though he was going to hold the revelation against her.
After some time, she raised her head to look at him. “I never wanted to be with Finley.” Her voice held all the fervency that had been building inside her. “Never. But I couldn’t allow myself to imagine a life with you was possible. He swore he had proof of my mother’s crime. He said if I didn’t marry him he would expose her shame.”
Nick’s arms tightened again, and Olivia could tell from the ragged intake of his breath that he was angry. Very angry.
Nick said nothing for a long time. And the fear Olivia had allowed to rule her life began to creep back. Perhaps she had imagined his understanding. They had been betrothed after all; perhaps he felt it was his duty to comfort her.
“Do you hate me?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Do I hate you?” he repeated. He sounded stunned. “Out of everything you’ve told me today, that is the one thought I can’t abide you having.” He grasped her by the shoulders, pulling her firmly around to face him. “I could never hate you. I could never—not when I love you so much.”
“You love me?” The incredulousness and wonder in her tone were hard to miss, and she didn’t bother trying to disguise her awe. She felt like someone who had been given a too precious gift and was afraid it might disappear at any moment.
