A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4)

by Chasity Bowlin

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice brusque and clearly perturbed.

  The woman’s tone was sharp and the fact that she did not use Olympia’s title indicated just how little regard she had for her as the new lady of the house. Telling the terrifying housekeeper that she was searching for the source of the cries she’d heard in the night was clearly not an option. So, Olympia lied. “I’m quite lost, I fear. I must have turned the wrong way when I left my chamber.”

  “Then might I suggest you turn around and go the other direction,” the housekeeper snapped.

  “What is through that door?” Olympia persisted.

  “That wing of the house is closed, madam.”

  “Really? Why were you coming and going from it then?” she demanded. She would have a straight answer from the woman.

  The housekeeper’s jaw tensed and her already pinched face became positively hollowed by it. “Inventory, my lady. The rooms are closed off because they are never used, but there are still many valuable objects. It is my duty to ensure that no one in this house abuses his lordship’s trust!”

  It was a pat answer, one that had the woman not been so thoroughly contemptuous of his lordship and herself that Olympia might have been able to believe. Clearly, Mrs. Webster had little use for either of them.

  “And is this something you do routinely?” she asked.

  The woman bristled further. “Would you like an accounting of how I spend the hours of my day, then?”

  “No, Mrs. Webster. But if I am to be mistress of this household, the running of it should be familiar to me. Don’t you agree?” Olympia felt a mild victory there, for she’d left the woman with no other option but to agree with her. To do otherwise would clearly see her fired.

  The thrill of victory was short-lived. Mrs. Webster smiled coolly, a mocking expression. “You will never run this house, my lady. As every Viscountess Darke before you, your position here will be purely ornamental. I run this house. Just as my mother did and my grandmother before her. If you feel so inclined, ask his lordship. He will tell you precisely how secure my position is here and precisely how little you will be involved with the day to day routine of Darkwood Hall.”

  She’d never had a servant speak to her so boldly in her life. Olympia was livid. “You overstep, Mrs. Webster!”

  The woman moved closer, and while she was thin, she towered over Olympia. As she leaned in, her voice dropped to no more than a whisper, but there was no mistaking the malice in it. “No, madam. You have overstepped. A new bride… but not yet a wife. I know where his lordship slept last night. I also know he never intends to make you his wife in the true sense of the word. Your place here is precarious at best. I would not make sweeping demands were I you.”

  Olympia said nothing. In truth there was no response for that. The housekeeper had said nothing that was untrue, though how she’d gleaned such information was a mystery. It was clear that the woman was ruthless enough to use it to her advantage, however. Without the protection of her station and with her tenuous position in the house, Olympia was left with little recourse. A sinking feeling settled into her stomach. Things were far more wrong at Darkwood than she had realized.

  ***

  Griffin rubbed his eyes. He was beyond tired. Spending half the night in the conservatory and another portion of it in the small room he’d converted into a laboratory, exhaustion was quickly claiming him. But exhaustion would be the only possible inducement for sleep. Even then, he was well aware that he would likely be plagued with dreams of her.

  His wife was not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and yet, he’d never felt such an instantaneous desire for any woman. Without even attempting to do so, she’d inflamed him to the point of idiocy.

  It didn’t help that he’d been isolated from society for a very long time because of his situation. It had been years since he’d been in the company of a woman that was neither relative nor employee. To now find himself in such close proximity to a woman that he found immensely attractive but that also, in the legal sense, had every right to desire, was a particular kind of torment.

  Picking up the small vial that contained what he could only hope would be a solution, Griffin tucked it into his hand before making his way to the breakfast room. He would give the new potion to Mrs. Webster. It was too late to use it for the morning, but he’d ask her to substitute it in the afternoon. Perhaps it would allow for a quieter evening, one that wouldn’t send his new bride in search of answers.

  There were decisions to be made. Did he continue the farce of a marriage or did he instruct Swindon to being the process of annulment? He’d given up any hope of maintaining a platonic relationship, a marriage in name only. He’d known from the very moment he set eyes on Olympia that would be impossible, but he had not foreseen how quickly his will would succumb to temptation. If she was to remain untouched, she would have to leave Darkwood Hall immediately and forever.

  Entering the small dining room that was traditionally reserved for breakfast, but that he’d taken to using for all of his meals, he stopped short inside the door. Olympia was already there. The cascade of dark hair falling over her shoulders, hanging almost to her waist, fueled a dozen fantasies as he envisioned it spread out over the pillow, tangled about them as he took her, or wrapped in his fist as her mouth moved on him. They were fantasies, he reminded himself, and nothing more. What he wanted from her and what he could have were entirely different things.

  She turned, as if sensing his perusal, and offered a cordial smile and a murmured ‘good morning’ as she took her seat. With her hair down and in a simple braid she looked young enough to make his thoughts even more shameful, yet that did nothing to stop them. The feeling of her body pressed against him, of the sweetness of her lips beneath his own, were still ever present in his mind. Even now, taking in the porcelain perfection of her skin, the soft curves of her face and the temptation of her full lips, he was hard pressed not to give in to his more base desires. The longing, the desire he felt for her, was instantaneous. It roared to life with the ferocity and speed of an inferno.

  At his lack of response to her greeting, she simply smiled brighter and carried the burden of conversation by asking softly, “Did you sleep well?”

  “As well as I deserve,” he replied evasively as he moved to the sideboard to fill a plate. He needed space between them, distance. And he needed to not be facing her when the evidence of her effect on him was clearly visible.

  “I am glad to have a moment to speak with you,” she said.

  “Oh? Do I need to be scolded for something else? Taken to task for my lack of morals or accused of some other perfidy?” he asked. While his tone was conversational, the words held bite.

  She ignored that. “We are in an unusual situation, my lord. You needed a bride, and I needed to establish a home for myself where I would not be dependent on the charity of my relatives. Regardless of anything else that has occurred between us or our perceptions of one another, those circumstances have not changed.”

  Griffin had already surmised that he would not be able to annul the marriage. Legally, it was within his right as it had not been consummated. But his response to the mere suggestion was visceral. She belonged to him already, whether either of them wished to admit it. Still, he allowed her to make her case. “That is true enough,” he agreed.

  “My lord, my suggestion is that we reside here together for one month. If at that time, you still wish to send me away, then do so as your wife. We can live separately if you desire and my needs are quite modest.”

  “I should remain married to you, set you up in your own home, and leave you to your own devices,” he surmised.

  She flushed but her jaw hardened with determination as she continued. “Only if it is your wish, my lord. I will be quite content to remain here at Darkwood Hall.”

  That prompted his eyebrows to raise in disbelief. “No one is ever content at Darkwood Hall. I daresay the rocks would march from the field
s to flee it were they able.”

  She sighed heavily. “Then I shall not say I will be content. I shall simply offer the truth with all that is left of my pride… I have nowhere else to go.”

  The admission had cost her dearly. He could see it in the slight deflation of her previously squared shoulders and in the way she avoided his gaze. Pity was not something she would ever accept, and in truth, was not something he would offer. But he was not without feeling and it saddened him for her that her lot in life had become such that her only option had been marriage sight unseen to a man she did not know the first thing about.

  He’d goaded her thoughtlessly, and in doing so, he’d hurt her in ways she would not be quick to forgive. “Whatever occurs, you will always have a home and always be provided for,” he offered. “That is all I can promise at this time.”

  “It is enough,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

  Griffin nodded. His appetite was gone entirely. Food held no appeal for him and the one thing he hungered for was completely off limits. “I am going for a ride. I will see you at dinner,” he said and quickly moved to escape the damning pleasure he took in her presence. She was dangerous to him in ways he had not envisioned and he would need to proceed cautiously.

  Five

  Olympia had been staring down at the table, but when she looked up, she pinned him with a sharp and direct gaze. It was clear that she had something on her mind, and he undoubtedly would be put on the spot.

  “I understand that you have not had time to make a decision on whether or not I am to remain here with you, my lord, but do you have some notion of how long a time will be required for you to decide?”

  He had. From the moment he’d walked into that room, there was simply no turning back. It was a foolhardy decision, one that they would both come to regret he was certain, but having her and keeping her were inevitable. Since their soul scorching kiss, she’d become as necessary to him as breathing. Her presence had invaded his home, invaded his mind. His awareness of her had continued to grow. Where she was, what she was doing, how she was being treated in his strange and not entirely welcoming home—all of those things had consumed his thoughts. And in seeing to her comfort, in doing the things that a husband would do, it cemented that relationship even further in his mind.

  To deny it was futile. “For better or worse, Olympia, you will remain here. But there are rules to follow if this is to work… and once you hear them, it may be your wish to leave.”

  She put down her fork and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Very well.”

  Griffin turned to the door and the footmen standing there. “Leave us.” They looked at one another before doing his bidding. Undoubtedly they were off to report to Mrs. Webster. The woman was out of control. Something would have to be done. Moving toward the table, he took a seat across from Olympia, one that would allow them to converse more easily than if he’d sat at the head of the table as usual.

  “Your rules, my lord?”

  He smiled slightly. “The first one is to stop ‘my lording’ me every time we speak. You will call me Griffin. I prefer it. I have not held the title for very long and find I am not accustomed to it yet.”

  She frowned at that. “Were you not anticipating becoming Viscount Darke, then?”

  “No,” he replied. “The title was initially my uncle’s, and it should have gone to my cousin or his younger brother, but he… there was a tragedy,” he finished lamely. “Suffice to say, I had not expected the title and find myself acclimating slowly.” His tone made it quite clear that he intended to say no more on the subject and he only hoped she would not press him. The lurid tale was not fit for her ears.

  “I see. And your second rule?”

  This one would be more difficult. “There are areas of the house that are unsafe. I will give you a tour later and show you where you may and may not go within these walls… Also, the moors are dangerous, incredibly so. The grass grows so tall that it conceals deep crevices in the earth and prevents you from being able to tell whether the earth beneath is firm or simply a well concealed bog. You should not go out alone.”

  The tension emanating from her was palpable. Her shoulders squared and her chin came up while her eyes hardened as if ready for battle. She was extraordinary, he thought.

  “Am I to be a prisoner here, then?” she demanded.

  “Not at all. If you wish to go out, you may, I would only ask that you alert someone to where you are going and take a servant with you who is familiar with the area,” he replied in an attempt to reassure her. “But I should warn you, we are not well received in the village.”

  “Why?”

  “The tragedy,” he replied coolly. “Small minds give rise to great rumors. If you must go there, pay them no heed… that is a suggestion, not a rule.”

  “I feel I should be making notes,” she responded.

  “There is only one other rule, but I suppose it falls more under the heading of a demand,” he answered.

  “Do go on. I find myself on tenterhooks,” she replied with complete sarcasm.

  “I admit to my own foolishness in even considering the possibility that I could have a marriage in name only with a woman I find so wholly appealing. But regardless of whether or not our marriage is consummated, Olympia, precautions will be taken… We will have no children.”

  Six

  She’d been told not to wander, but as the source of her instruction had been Mrs. Webster, Olympia felt fully justified in ignoring the edict. A housekeeper had no jurisdiction over her, she reasoned.

  The brief exchange with Lord Darke over breakfast had offered her some peace of mind. Of course, trusting him to keep his word might be an awful mistake, but it was all she had to cling to at the moment. Even a false sense of security was better than living in terror of being turned out into the streets.

  Not even Collins knew what she was about. In truth, it wasn’t a proud moment for her. But she needed a strategic advantage and that meant doing a little spying on her own. Slipping along the same corridor where she’d had her earlier confrontation with Mrs. Webster, Olympia ducked into an alcove to keep watch and observe her new household.

  After what seemed like hours, the door at the end of the hall opened. Olympia held her breath as the housekeeper moved past her, the black bombazine of her gown swishing with her brisk steps. Peeking around the corner, Olympia quickly shrank back when the woman paused and glanced over her shoulder.

  Fearing she’d been caught, Olympia braced for battle, but instead Mrs. Webster simply walked over to a marquetry table in the hall. She ran her fingers over the top of it, grimaced at the dust there and then went on her way.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Olympia immediately dashed out toward the door the woman had recently exited. It was unlocked, which surprised her, but also worried her. Would Mrs. Webster come back to check? It was a risk she would have to take.

  Ducking through the door, she closed it firmly behind her. She leaned against it for a brief moment to catch her breath and still her racing heart. Clearly a life of crime was not in her future as just sneaking into a forbidden area of the house had her on the verge of apoplexy.

  The corridor stretched before her. Dust covered the floor and cobwebs draped from the ceiling. But in the center of the hallway, there was a wide swath of floor free of any dust at all. It was marked with the occasional footprint that strayed from the path. Staring at those footprints, Olympia recognized that one would clearly have to be Mrs. Webster’s. The other, much larger and clearly belonging to a man, could only be her husband’s.

  Making her way as stealthily as possible, Olympia tried the first door on the left. It opened easily enough. Peering inside, she saw nothing but furniture draped in Holland cloths. Closing the door, she moved along the corridor, investigating each one. It wasn’t until she neared the end that she found what she was looking for. The room was stacked high with trunks and books. Personal items were interspersed amongst everything else. It was th
e haphazard lot of a household hastily moved into storage.

  Stepping carefully over the threshold to avoid leaving visible prints in front of the door in the hallway, Olympia stepped into the room and closed the door. The quiet immediately set her on edge. There was no sound of bustling servants. None of the general liveliness of a house well occupied. That room was as silent as a tomb.

  “And if Mrs. Webster comes back and locks the door, it could well be your tomb,” she told herself. To that end, Olympia began her search. She went through each stack of books, looking for anything of a personal nature. When they failed to yield anything, she moved onto the trunks. She’d just searched the third one when the wailing began.

  It was much louder, and so much clearer this close to the source. Olympia longed to go to her, whoever she was, and offer some comfort, but it would surely not end well for her. Without a doubt, those cries would bring Mrs. Webster rushing back, which meant her time was limited. Dusting off her skirts, she rose, but her recently injured ankle betrayed her. She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the trunk and the lining ripped beneath her hand. A small packet of letters fell out.

  Olympia picked them up carefully and then examined the torn lining. Hidden behind it was also a slim book, clearly a journal. Satisfied with her haul for the moment, she tidied up behind her. Just as she reached for the door, and opened it just a crack, she heard footsteps in the hall.

  Terrified to move or even breathe, she stood there with her face pressed to that tiny opening. The housekeeper rushed past, halting at another closed door at the end of the corridor. As Olympia watched, she removed the ring of keys at her waist and unlocked the door. A flight of stairs was visible as she opened the door and disappeared inside.