Passion Regency Style

by Wendy Vella

  “Men do not like to be challenged by women, especially not in something like the Derby.”

  She made a little huffing sound.

  “Men have all the appearance of strength, my lord, yet the male ego is a fragile thing, I fear.”

  He laughed at her despondent tone.

  “Cheer up, Livvy. Not all of us mind a woman dominating them.”

  She turned to face him then, and he was subjected to a thorough inspection while he did the same. Her cinnamon eyes seemed almost black out here and her face pale in the moonlight. He wondered if she was cold with so much of her lush bosom exposed. His hands itched to stroke the creamy flesh.

  “I feel your words have a deeper meaning, my lord, yet I have no wish to delve into what that is; therefore, I shall ask you to escort me back inside.”

  “Wise as well as beautiful, Olivia.”

  She had been about to turn away yet stopped, once again looking up at him.

  “There is no need for empty flattery between us, Lord Ryder. Therefore, save your compliments for the women who seek them.”

  Interesting, Will thought. She didn’t like his compliments and he wondered why. “My words to you are never empty flattery, Olivia. I hope you will always remember that fact,” Will said. Giving in to his need to touch her, he ran a finger down the line between her eyes. “You’re frowning again.”

  She stilled as his finger touched her mouth and then traced her bottom lip.

  “The book of beauty, Miss Olivia Langley, should have been written about you. The curve of your cheek and softness of your lips tempt a man to forget he is a gentleman.” Her eyes fixed on him as Will lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. “The color of your hair resembles my favorite time of day and the depths of your cinnamon eyes urge a man to delve into the secrets you hide deep inside.”

  “Please, Lord Ryder, you must stop this.”

  “Never forget that you are beautiful, Olivia.” Will cupped her face between his hands. “Now, tell me why you felt the need to be churlish and rude to me.”

  “Please don’t ask me any more questions, my lord.”

  “Will.” He lowered his head. “You once called me Will,” he said against her lips.

  “Will,” she whispered.

  “Why must I ask you no more questions, Olivia?”

  She blinked, her long lashes resting briefly on her cheeks before once again looking at him.

  “Because I have no wish to tell you lies.”

  “Is the truth so hard to speak?” Will tilted her face up as he spoke.

  “Yes.”

  Unable to resist the lure of her lips, he kissed her. Olivia Langley had always made his head reel and even though only their mouths touched, his body was a furnace in seconds. Sliding one hand down her back, he pulled her in close and the feel of her lush curves pressed against him was sweet torture. The sensual pull tugged him deeper and Will knew that he should stop, aware that at any moment someone could walk through the door and see them. But the need inside him drove him on. She was his, always had been, and now he wanted her to know it, too.

  “No!”

  “Livvy.” He reached for her as she wrenched from his arms.

  “I must go, my lord,” she whispered, staggering backwards. “Th—thank you once again, Lord Ryder, for coming to the aid of a… an acquaintance.”

  She bobbed a quick curtsy and Will then watched her hasten back through the doors. She was using the term acquaintance to put some distance between them, but it would not work. He wanted Olivia Langley, and she wanted him. The insipid term acquaintance had never been further from his mind.

  Livvy managed to slip back inside unnoticed. Searching the room, she found Phoebe at the supper table surrounded by admirers. Joining her, she offered the group a tight smile and then squeezed into the only seat left. Chivalry, it seemed, was long dead, as not one man had bothered to move to accommodate her.

  “Try these almond things, Livvy, they’re rather good,” Phoebe said, waving a small square of cake in her face.

  “Thank you,” Livvy said, taking it and nibbling on one corner. At least if she was eating she wouldn’t have to converse and she could think about the fact that Will thought the curve of her cheek and softness of her lips could tempt a man to forget he is a gentleman.

  “Mr. Rutledge has just been telling me he intends to write an ode to my hands, Livvy.”

  “Wonderful,” Livvy said, wondering what game Will was playing, if any. Was he really interested in her or just sharpening his skills before going to London to attend the season. After all, he had been in India for five years, and while Livvy understood they did have civilized company, she didn’t think it was quite at the standard that he would find in London.

  “Apparently, my hands are like silken doves that flutter gracefully when I speak in melodious tones.”

  “Melodious tones… you?” Livvy looked at her sister. “You don’t have a melodious bone in your body.”

  “Oh, I must protest to that, Miss Langley!” Mr. Rutledge declared, turning his whole body to look at her because his ridiculously high shirt points would not let him turn his neck. “Her every word sounds like the twinkling of a thousand melodious bells.”

  Livvy looked at the man. His eyes certainly seemed clear enough so he wasn’t inebriated. Perhaps he was mad?

  “A bullfrog is melodious compared to my sister,” Livvy muttered and then crammed the rest of the cake in her mouth because this conversation was ridiculous and she no longer wished to be part of it.

  “I’m wounded to the depths of my soul, Mr. Rutledge, that my sister should say such unjust things about me!” Phoebe cried. Livvy, however, merely chewed her food and turned to look at the dancers and there he was.

  She sighed. Well, really, who wouldn’t when faced with such a man. He was as beautiful to her as he had declared she was to him. He moved with elegance that was solely his, an unconscious grace that drew the eye of every woman. He was partnering the giggling Miss Chillervy, who was doing her best to show him everything she had on offer and Livvy had to admit they looked good together.

  “As pale as a dove’s wings, her fingers flutter as though made of silk.”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Livvy tried to shut out Mr. Rutledge’s exuberant prose. Miss Chillervy laughed, showing two perfectly-placed dimples as she twirled around Will. Livvy told herself that jealousy was beneath her and just because he had kissed her, that did not mean anything other than a mild flirtation.

  “Skin like dew drops and voice as sweet as… a…”

  “A babbling brook?” Livvy offered, her eyes still on Miss Chillervy.

  “See, gentlemen, she does love me!” Phoebe declared.

  Stealing another cake off her sister’s plate, Livvy went back to her thoughts. Had Will ever promised her anything? Thinking back, she realized that he had not; in fact, before that kiss they had shared, they had been friends who had enjoyed the occasional light-hearted flirtation. The infatuation had been all on her side. She had fallen in love with him, not he with her. Everything seemed awfully clear to Livvy suddenly. She had thought the sun rose and set with Lord William Ryder and the fault for that had been hers alone.

  “May I have this dance, Miss Langley?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Oakley,” Livvy said, brushing the crumbs from her hands as she reluctantly climbed to her feet. She would have to think some more about William Ryder, but she would leave that until she climbed into bed later.

  Blowing out the candle at midnight, Livvy pulled back the covers and fell onto the mattress, exhausted. She had danced the remainder of the evening away and laughed and chatted with the people of Twoaks. Closing her eyes, her last thoughts were for Will. He had danced with her once more. They had not uttered a word between them, yet his eyes had been on her constantly and left her even more confused as to his intentions. Yawning, she pulled the blankets up to her chin. She really needed to stay away from him, yet how was that possible when everywhere sh
e went, he seemed to be there also? She couldn’t allow herself to be lured close to him again, especially considering that she was a highwaywoman and her family were living a lie, because one thing Livvy knew was that if anyone was to see through her, it would be William Ryder. Closing her eyes, she began to drift off to sleep with the memory of their kiss still lingering on her lips.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I would venture out if I did not fear that I would be found frozen in an undignified position by a handsome stranger passing by,” Phoebe said, scowling at the windows.

  “Yes, because that happens frequently.” Livvy looked up from the letter she was writing.

  “Have you no romance or adventure in your sturdy soul, Olivia Langley.”

  “One wonders how it would be romantic, being found in an undignified position by the man of your dreams.”

  “It’s called extending your mind.” Phoebe snapped. “It’s what forward-thinking people do.”

  “Oh, that’s where I’m going wrong then,” Livvy muttered. “My mind is already extended to its fullest.”

  Phoebe flounced out of the chair she was currently lounging in, huffing loudly. She then came to look over Bella’s shoulder to see what she was reading.

  “I’m forward thinking. Why, just this morning I discussed having boiled mutton or mutton pie with Jenny.” Livvy was subjected to a glower from Phoebe as she finished speaking.

  “The real problem is, Phoebe, that you have not been showered in compliments and badly-worded prose for days, and you are missing the adulation.”

  “I suspect you’re right.” Phoebe sighed, not the least put out that her sister had called her, in a roundabout way, shallow.

  It had snowed for five days since the Twoaks Assembly when Will had told Livvy that her hair reminded him of his favorite time of the day, and she had thought of him endlessly. In fact, she was sick of him popping into her head when nothing else was occupying it.

  “I would even find Mrs. Popplehinge’s company stimulating at the moment,” Phoebe added.

  The Langley sisters had been inside for most of those five days and nights and were heartily sick of each other’s company. This morning, Livvy had thrown her hairbrush at Phoebe who had come into her room with the sole purpose of irritating her, simply because she was bored.

  “I have linens that need mending.”

  Snorting, Phoebe said something vile beneath her breath. “At least it will keep me busy, I suppose.”

  The sound of the front door opening had the sisters rushing out to the hall in time to see Jenny stomping inside followed by a flurry of snow and blast of cold air.

  “I wish you hadn’t insisted on going outside in this weather, Jenny.” Livvy hurried forward to take the bag Jenny handed her.

  “My boy took me up on his horse and it’s only a short trip to the village.”

  “But now you’re frozen to your toes,” Bella said, coming forward to take Jenny’s cloak.

  “Nevermind about that. A letter has arrived for you from London.”

  The three sisters watched as Jenny pulled it from her bodice and handed it to Livvy.

  “Now you go along into the warm and read it and I’ll get the tea going.”

  “It must be from our cousin,” Phoebe said, following Livvy up the stairs and back in to the parlor.

  Tearing it open, Livvy quickly read the words. “Dear God!” Stumbling to a chair, she fell into it seconds later.

  “What is it?” Phoebe appeared before her.

  Livvy handed her sister the letter. “Read it out loud so Bella can hear.”

  Shooting Livvy a worried glance, Phoebe lifted the missive.

  “Dear Cousin,” she began. “Please forgive my tardiness in replying to your request for monetary assistance and the possibility of lodging with me during the season. It is with regret that I must decline both of your requests and also inform you that your free tenure at Willow Hall will cease at the end of January as I have need of the lodgings for my own use. I shall visit with you for Christmas to discuss the little secret you are holding and check on the progress of your departure. Your devoted cousin, Lord Timothy Loftus Langley.”

  The sisters sat in silence for several seconds. Somewhere in the house, Jenny banged a door and the clock in the hall chimed the hour.

  “What secret does he think we hold, Livvy?” Phoebe questioned.

  Livvy had only two secrets of any value; the first that the Langleys were poor and taking great pains to hide it, and the second only she and a dead man shared. Surely, her cousin could not mean that one?

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “What are we to do, Livvy?”

  It was Bella’s desperate words that finally broke through the shock of her cousin’s letter. Livvy quickly stood and hugged her sisters as her mind searched frantically for the reassuring words she needed to say.

  “This must be an error on his part. Surely, he does not mean to throw us out,” Livvy said. “He cannot be that cruel.”

  “He is a horrid beast of a man to treat his cousins this way.” Bella sniffed, close to tears. “How can he be the same man who attended father’s funeral? He talked to me many times and told me that everything would be all right and I was not to worry.”

  “I loathed him,” Phoebe declared. “He was a braggart and a fool and I gave him no time when he sought me out.”

  “None of that matters now,” Livvy said. “I must go to London on the next stage and talk with him. All shall be resolved by the time I return.”

  “I shall accompany you.”

  “No, Phoebe, you must stay here with Bella. Besides, we do not want to waste money on two fares to London when I can go alone.”

  “No, Livvy, you can’t go alone. It is too dangerous. And besides, where would you stay?”

  “I shall seek lodgings in a small inn when I arrive. Don’t fret. It shall be the adventure I have always wanted,” Livvy said, feeling sick inside. Lord, she was going to London on her own; it was a terrifying prospect.

  “No, I will not allow it, Livvy. We shall both go or not at all and I’m afraid in this I am standing firm,” Phoebe declared.

  “But what about Bella? She will need someone to care for her.” Livvy was torn between wanting Phoebe with her and worry for her little sister.

  “Jenny can care for me.”

  “Two women alone at Willow Hall? What if something went wrong and Jenny had to visit the village?”

  “Go and find Jenny at once, Bella. Bring her here and we shall sort this out now.”

  “Yes, Phoebe.”

  Livvy took the note back and sat again as the door closed behind Bella. Reading the words, she could not fathom why he had sent them this letter. Surely, he was not so cruel that he would throw them out of their home if they had no other place to go? It was all a misunderstanding, it had to be. Did he really know her secret?

  “I don’t like our cousin, Livvy, and I don’t trust this note. I never said anything when he was here, but he tried to comfort me when I was crying once and his hand grabbed my breast.”

  “Phoebe! Why didn’t you tell me?” Livvy cried.

  There was nothing sweet about Phoebe’s smile.

  “I made him see the error of his ways.”

  Livvy’s laugh turned into a sob as she took her sisters hand. “Dear lord, what do you think this letter is about?”

  “I don’t know, but we shall face whatever it is together.”

  Livvy wiped her eyes as the door opened again and Bella appeared.

  “Mr. Blake has arrived, Livvy, and is asking for you. He is in the kitchen.”

  “Now?” Livvy didn’t want to speak to anyone, not when her family was in turmoil.

  “Yes, now.”

  “Tell him we will be there shortly, Bella,” Phoebe said, urging her sister from the room again.

  “We must see him, Livvy. If we do not, he will wonder why and then he will tell Lord Ryder and the Duke that we refused and then they will
wonder why, too.”

  “I know.” Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dress, Livvy drew in a deep breath and then left the room with Phoebe on her heels.

  “Mr. Blake, how lovely to see you again,” Phoebe said, moving forward to greet him as the sisters entered the room. “

  “And it is wonderful to see you also, Miss Langely.”

  “What has brought you out in this weather? Surely you should be tucked safely inside Rossetter.” Livvy forced a smile onto her face, which she was sure looked as stiff as it felt.

  “I have brought you a gift from Lord Ryder, Miss Langley,” Mr. Blake said, bowing deeply.

  “A gift, Mr. Blake?”

  “Is something wrong, Miss Langley?” he said, his face now concerned as he looked at Olivia’s red eyes and pale cheeks.

  “These are tears of laughter, Mr. Blake, I assure you,” Livvy said quickly. “We have just been telling each other funny stories, and Phoebe has been making me laugh.”

  “I see. Well, that is a relief.” Livvy knew he did not believe her but was too polite to push for the truth.

  “Firewood, Livvy. Lord Ryder has sent us a pile of chopped wood and Luke and another footman from Rossetter are stacking it for us now,” Bella said. “So we will not need to cut any more for a while.”

  Aware that she was being studied thoroughly, Livvy kept smiling. Firewood, Will had sent her firewood, and she wanted desperately to cry and not just because her nefarious cousin may know her secret. No, because Will had sent her a gift that really meant something to her. How had he known? And then she remembered that day at the church. He had asked how she got the callous on her finger and she had told him that she received it chopping firewood.

  “Please offer Luke and the other man some refreshment for their efforts when they finish, Jenny,” Livvy said quickly. “Mr. Blake, will you stay and take tea with us?” She hoped he didn’t take up her offer yet manners demanded she ask him.

  “I would be delighted. Thank you, Miss Langley, and would offer my services to Mrs. Bell if she will let me assist her with the preparations.”