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

by Chasity Bowlin

  Collins shuddered delicately. “They won’t like it, m’lady. Not at all. I think it’ll only make them more dangerous.”

  The maid was more than likely correct. “We’ll be cautious. Both of us.”

  “Yes, m’lady… and I’d avoid her today at all costs, if possible. Seems one of the newer footmen spurned her advances last night and she’s in rare form. Broke everything in her chamber she could lift to throw.”

  Which meant she’d be out for blood, and she already had a taste for Olympia’s. “Thank you, Collins… I’ll try to avoid her.”

  “Won’t be possible, my lady,” Collins said smartly as she laid out the new gown she’d been working tirelessly to complete. “Not in this house. I’ve a word of advice, and you can take it or you can sack me for it… That woman is not to be trusted. I’d have her out of this house as soon as I could if I were you. And to be even bolder, if you mean to press his lordship to do what you ask, now would be the time. Also, Mrs. Webster has asked to see you.”

  Olympia grimaced at that. “Tell her I’m indisposed.”

  Collins shook her head vigorously. “No, m’lady. I’ll not do it. You show her any hint of weakness and she’ll chew you up and spit you out.

  Her maid was right. Any hint of cowardice would only make things more difficult later on. She had to face her, whether she wanted to or not.

  Olympia nodded and lifted the cover from her breakfast tray. The aroma of fresh kippers and eggs had her mouth watering. “Fine. Have a bath prepared for me, Collins, while I enjoy my breakfast.”

  “Yes, m’lady. I imagine you’ve quite the appetite this morning,” the young woman offered with a cheeky grin as she left the room.

  After Collins left, and Olympia’s blush had faded to a reasonable degree, she made short work of the food. Climbing from the bed, she donned her wrapper and crossed the room to the connecting door between her chamber and Griffin’s. She knocked softly, and he called out for her to enter.

  Olympia stepped through the door and paused. He was naked, fresh from the bath. Water still glistened on his dark skin. Her gaze focused on one lone droplet that hovered at the base of his throat and then slid down, winding over his chest in a way that made her want to press her lips to his skin and trace each droplet with her tongue.

  Even as she thought it, her eyes traveled lower. His body hardened beneath her gaze, his shaft growing thicker and longer. “I had wanted to speak to you about Lady Florence,” she finally managed to choke out.

  “Well, that would effectively wither any man,” he said sharply.

  Olympia’s gaze remained fixed on his member. “It seems to have no effect on you.”

  “It’s counteracted completely by your alluring presence,” he replied. “But I imagine that you are not here to aid me with my morning affliction.”

  “No,” she said, though her tone was less than certain. “Collins informed me that she’s in high dudgeon. Rejected by a footman and having a tantrum, to put it bluntly. I think we should send her to the dower house. I do not trust her, Griffin, and I fear she means to do you irreparable harm.”

  He sighed wearily and dropped the towel he’d been using as he reached for his small clothes. “Olympia, I will gladly send her to the dower house once it is habitable, but you must stop seeing plots and machinations where none exist. No, Florence is not to be trusted, but do not give her more credit than she deserves. The woman is obsessed with clothes and handsome footmen. As long as those needs are met, she’ll be no trouble at all.”

  “If I give her too much credit, you give her too little… That woman is a viper and if you do not see it, you’ve willfully blinded yourself.”

  He pulled his breeches on, his movements agitated and clearly annoyed with the topic. “I cannot toss her out without her having a place to go and, at this time, the dower house is not an option. The roof is leaking and the place hasn’t been cleaned in more than a year!”

  As she looked at him, Olympia realized that he was utterly exhausted. He’d spent the evening making love to her, and had continued well into the night. She’d woken up in the wee hours of the morning to the sounds of awful screams filtering down the hallway. She’d seen him slipping out of her chamber to attend his sister.

  His present mood had nothing to do with their current disagreement. It wasn’t Florence. It wasn’t even her. It wasn’t even that he was beyond physically and mentally exhausted. It was frustration, because he was running out of options and time. The new medication he’d prepared for her had worked for some time, but was already losing its potency. The wailing and screaming had grown in intensity throughout the night until dawn when it had abruptly halted. All of those things had mixed and mingled to form his current dark mood, and she wasn’t helping him. At the moment she was only adding to his already overwhelming problems.

  “I didn’t say it had to be immediate! But we both know that there will be no peace in this house while she is here!”

  “Fine,” he agreed. “I will send workman to the dower house to begin repairs as soon as the roads have cleared and I will inform Florence that we mean to send her there. But if you expect that to bring us any peace at all, you are sadly mistaken.”

  In the course of their conversation, he’d dressed entirely, save for his neckcloth which most of the time he eschewed anyway. He struggled into his boots and then left without a backward glance.

  Turning on her heel, Olympia retreated to her own room. She’d won the battle but there had been a cost.

  “That could have gone better,” Collins said. She’d apparently returned during their discussion and overheard everything. Olympia gave her a baleful stare as the maid added rose scented oil to the freshly drawn bath. Two other maids entered, each one baring a bucket of steaming water which was added to the tub. When they left and only Collins remained, Olympia removed her wrapper and climbed into the tub.

  It was pointless to correct Collins’ behavior or to try and treat her as simply a maid. They were conspirators, in plain point of fact. Between them, they shared the dark and ugly secret that had prompted Olympia’s hasty withdrawal from London, her reason for willingly accepting marriage sight unseen to a man she’d never even heard of. They were, in all likelihood, murderers as there was little possibility that her uncle would have survived, much less completely recover from the blows to the head that the two of them had delivered. She was quickly learning that the best way to deal with much of Collins’ inappropriate behavior was to simply refrain from acknowledging it at all.

  Olympia sank deeper into the heated water and bit back a sigh of relief. Keeping Florence and her machinations out of their lives was the most important thing. And Mrs. Webster would have to follow, she decided. Whatever it took, that woman was another viper and her strange hold over the house needed to be abolished.

  When her bath was completed, Olympia sat on the small ottoman before the fire as Collins combed out her hair. The heat from the fire, would help it to dry quicker.

  “I’ve no hand for the curling tongs, m’lady, but mayhap if we braid your hair and let it dry we can get a nice wave to it.”

  “That would be fine, Collins. Thank you.”

  When the task was complete, her damp hair arranged in a series of braids and then pinned up in a simple coronet, she dressed in the new gown that Collins had created for her. The green wool fit her to perfection, though the neckline was a bit deeper than she was typically comfortable with.

  “Perhaps a fichu?”

  “No,” Collins said. “You want his lordship to be in a better mood, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Olympia replied.

  “Then showing a bit of bosom is a good way to start,” the maid said of matter-of-factly.

  Curiosity warred with common sense and Olympia felt compelled to ask. “Tell me the truth about your past employers, Collins, before you came to my aunt and uncle. I know you were never a lady’s maid and if memory serves me correctly, you were not a very good scullery maid, either.�
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  The woman’s thin face scrunched as she considered her options. “Very well, m’lady. My mother worked as a wardrobe mistress for a theater… but not a fancy sort of theater where respectable folk would go. It was… well most would call it indecent. And rightly so, I reckon.”

  “How indecent?” Olympia asked.

  “Most of the women what worked there were more light skirt than dancer or actress,” the maid admitted.

  “And you made clothes for them… Costumes?”

  Collins raised an eyebrow. “Yes, m’lady. Well, helped my mother with them. As she got older, her hands stiffened up and her eyes weren’t what they used to be. Helping her turned into just doing the work m’self. Though the gowns I made were hardly anything that would be fitting for you. ”

  “I don’t mean to wear it to dinner, Collins,” she said, thoughtfully. “But… I imagine you could fashion me something suitable to wear for my husband in the privacy of our chamber?”

  The maid smiled. “Aye, m’lady. I can. His eyes will fair pop out and I daresay you’ll get anything you ask for.”

  A peaceful home with him, free from the influence of people who intended to harm either of them. That was all she wanted. To feel safe again, she realized. It was something she hadn’t experienced since before her parents’ deaths. Griffin hadn’t either, she was certain, though the difficulties they had faced were very different.

  With her morning toilette completed, Olympia braced herself for the coming confrontation with Mrs. Webster. Leaving her room, she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She found the housekeeper in the hall just at top of the stairs.

  “I see you’ve finally decided to leave your bed. And his,” the housekeeper said disapprovingly.

  “You overstep, Mrs. Webster,” Olympia snapped. “What occurs between my husband and myself in the privacy of our chambers is none of your concern.”

  Mrs. Webster smiled coolly. “You may think that you’ve won… that by seducing him you’ve gained the upper hand, but rest assured, m’lady, the things I know about this family he will never want made public.”

  Cold fury washed through her. “Do not threaten me, Mrs. Webster. And do not threaten my husband. You are in his employ but that can change at any time!”

  Mrs. Webster’s smile faded into a gruesome snarl. “Mr. Swindon might have had the final choice in bride for his lordship, but I made certain that he gathered enough information about you to keep you well in hand! I know about your uncle! I know why your aunt was so eager to have you married off and out of her home!”

  Cold dread washed through her. She hadn’t told Griffin about her uncle’s advances, about the lengths she’d had to go to in order to avoid being ruined by him. The shame of it was something she’d hoped never to share with anyone. She hadn’t told Mr. Swindon about the final night, the night when her desperate attempts to save her virtue had resulted in grave injury to him. Had it not been for Collins, her uncle would have raped and murdered her that night. Mrs. Webster couldn’t possibly know everything, but she possessed enough information to get to the truth if she chose.

  “I have nothing to hide, Mrs. Webster. You will not rule in this house forever,” Olympia brazened. She would be certain of it. “And if you think to use his sister against him—.”

  The woman grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully as she dragged her toward one of the unoccupied chambers. “What do you know of Cassandra?” Mrs. Webster demanded.

  Olympia yanked her wrist free of the other woman’s grasp. “He took me to her room last night. I know about her condition and I know that you’ve helped him to care for her! But that doesn’t excuse what you’ve done here, and if you ever manhandle me in such a way again, I will be certain that you regret it!”

  “You know nothing,” the woman sneered at her. “You don’t know the hell I’ve endured in this house… that my mother and grandmother endured in this house as we nursed one member of this family after another through madness! We’ve covered up their atrocities, we’ve lied for them, protected them, and yet he brought you here! This is my house. It will always be my house!”

  “Oh, la! What a party I’ve missed!”

  Olympia would have groaned at the sound of Lady Florence’s voice but she wouldn’t take her eyes off Mrs. Webster. Any distraction from the woman in front of her could prove disastrous. Griffin feared he was going mad, but in surveying Mrs. Webster, Olympia realized he was not the one who should fear it. The housekeeper was nigh to insane herself, paranoid and dangerous.

  “I’m returning to my room, Mrs. Webster. Do not summon me again. And I will be speaking to my husband about this,” Olympia warned softly and then backed away from her before she cleared the door and fled.

  ***

  Florence lounged against the drawing room door and smirked at the dour housekeeper. “You’ve overplayed your hand, Mrs. Webster. You should have allowed me to guide you in this.”

  “And what would you have done?” the housekeeper demanded.

  “You have access to the perfect weapon, Mrs. Webster,” Florence offered mildly. “Someone who could easily rid us both of our troublesome new viscountess… Griffin would be consumed with guilt and therefore easily led. All you have to do… is leave the door unlocked.”

  “She might hurt someone else,” the housekeeper protested.

  “She might,” Florence agreed. “But it won’t be us. We’ll be safely behind locked doors. Whether it’s a housemaid, a footman, or his lovely new viscountess, he will still blame himself. And he will blame her… because she’s distracted him from his true purpose of curing his sister. We win, either way.”

  “And if Cassandra is hurt?”

  Florence’s eyes widened. “You do truly care for her, don’t you?”

  “She was a sweet child, until she came here. Until your husband got his hands on her!”

  “We were all sweet children until that happened,” Florence replied bitterly. “Do it, Mrs. Webster. It’s the only way.”

  The housekeeper wavered for a moment, before squaring her shoulders. “No. Not yet. I will consider it, and if things become dire, then I shall. But when I mentioned her family in London, she was nervous. Scared even.”

  Florence considered that. “Fine. I’ll start there and see what else I can find… Get one of the maids to cozy up to that stick like harridan she has with her. The least likely lady’s maid I’ve ever encountered!”

  Mrs. Webster nodded her assent. “Yes, my lady. I will let you know what I find. I don’t wish to jeopardize Cassandra anymore than necessary. She’s far more fragile than you realize.”

  “We cannot afford to take too much time, Mrs. Webster. The longer she has with him, the more likely he is to fall under her sway. Never underestimate the power a wife holds over a husband… Griffin is a romantic at heart. He will fall in love with her because that is simply his nature. And when that happens, neither of us will hold any power in this house.”

  Florence exited the room with a swish of her skirts. The housekeeper would consider it, but eventually, she would relent. It was only a matter of time.

  Seventeen

  A headache had been Olympia’s convenient excuse to avoid the dining room that evening. It wasn’t the room’s bloody history that bothered her. She simply wished to avoid another skirmish with either Mrs. Webster or Lady Florence.

  Seated at her dressing table, she waited patiently as Collins as slowly and meticulous removed each pin from her hair. They really would have to do something about her lack of knowledge as a hairdresser.

  The connecting door opened and Griffin stood there. He’d dressed for dinner but upon his return had discarded his cravat and coat. His waistcoat was undone and his shirt was open at the neck. He looked disreputable, even a bit rakish, and far more appealing than he should for her peace of mind.

  “You may leave us, Collins,” he said. “If her ladyship requires any further assistance, I will provide it.”

  The maid blushed, bobbed
a curtsy, and fled the room as if being chased by a hellhound. In the mirror, Olympia gave him a baleful glance as the door slammed behind the departing figure of her maid. “You terrify her!”

  “Do I terrify you?” he asked.

  “Hardly,” she replied.

  “Even when I’m in a ghastly, foul mood and take it out on you?” The question was posed as he stepped deeper into the room. He held a piece of cloth in his hand, tied up to form a pouch.

  “What do you have there?” she asked curiously.

  He placed it on the dressing table before her. “A bribe… I’m hoping to buy my way back into your good graces.”

  Olympia untied the knotted ends of what appeared to be a napkin. When it fell open, her mouth watered instantly. Claiming illness had offered Mrs. Webster the perfect revenge. She’d sent up a tray bearing thin, greasy gruel and stale bread for her dinner, claiming that it was what she needed to recover from her illness. Griffin had purloined slices of ham and cheese, as well as fresh, crusty bread. There was even a sliced apple.

  “You were never out of my good graces,” she replied evenly. “Though if you were, this is precisely how to get back into them.”

  Olympia was too busy eating to see his answering smile. If she had looked at him, she would have noted that he stared at her not just with passion but with a tenderness that would have surprised them both.

  “I was in a foul mood this morning,” he offered. “I wished to apologize for the manner in which I spoke to you. It was wrong. You did not deserve it and I will endeavor to do better in the future.”

  She glanced up again, her mouth full of the delicious and forbidden treats he’d brought. When she finally managed to swallow, she said, “I knew you’d been up all hours of the night. It was the wrong time to press you about such matters.”

  He settled onto the edge of her bed. “I want you to understand, Olympia that I would send them both away if I could… Mrs. Webster and Lady Florence. I know they are thick as thieves and hatching plots. But they both have access to information about me, about this family, and about the house that could ruin us forever. And if we are ruined, it will have far reaching consequences.”