He smiled. “One can never have too many friends.”
“Excellent.” She nodded. “Now then, as I cannot expect you to do this simply out of the goodness of your heart, I propose to offer you compensation.”
“Compensation?” He drew his brows together. “Absolutely not. I owe you my help. This is the least I can do. I consider this a debt long overdue. An obligation I am only too pleased to meet.”
“Nonetheless, you should receive something for your trouble.”
“I absolutely will not hear of—”
“You don’t think I was offering to pay for your help did you?” Amusement danced in her eyes. He ignored it.
“I did think something like that,” he said under his breath.
“You needn’t look so insulted.”
“It did sound suspiciously like an insult.”
“Nonsense. You completely misunderstood. I know you would never accept any sort of payment, and, frankly, if I had the funds to do so, I would not have to undertake this quest at all.” She met his gaze. “Once I have my inheritance, I plan to donate or sell each and every one of my late husband’s collections and give a sizable percentage to charitable endeavors. I propose that fully half of those donations will be made in your family’s name. Does that sound fair to you?”
He nodded slowly. “It’s not necessary, but yes, it sounds more than fair.”
“Very well then, we are agreed.”
“As to terms yes but what of specifics?”
“I have asked my late husband’s solicitor to call on me tomorrow. I intend to tell him that I will pursue the items necessary to fulfill the terms of the will. I anticipate he will then present me with information as to the first object. I would appreciate your presence at that meeting.” She thought for a moment. “Would it be possible for Nathanial and Miss Montini to accompany you as well? As she has spent some time with the collections, her expertise might be beneficial in determining where we might find the article in question.”
He nodded. “Excellent idea.”
“Very well then, I shall see you tomorrow,” she said, obviously dismissing him. “I do appreciate your willingness to help me in this matter, Sterling. I hope you do not regret it.” She extended her hand to him.
He took her hand to shake it but instead held it, warm and soft and small within his. “Of all the regrets I may have, I cannot imagine this being one of them.”
She raised a brow. “There is that arrogance again.”
“I suspect arrogance is a beneficial quality in an endeavor such as this. One wouldn’t want anything less than complete confidence in a partner.” He raised her hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “Or a friend.”
“And as you say, one can never have too many friends.” She smiled. “Do keep in mind I am most serious about the limits of that friendship.” She pulled her hand from his. “I want—I expect—nothing more from you than your assistance.”
“And I shall offer nothing more,” he said smoothly, and smiled. “I shall return tomorrow then.” He turned and started toward the door.
“Oh and Sterling.”
He turned back to her. “Yes?”
“When I insult you . . .” She grinned and it struck him as genuine and rarely used. “There will not be a doubt in your mind.”
He laughed, nodded, and took his leave.
A few minutes later he was settled in his carriage, headed for home. This evening had not been at all what he’d expected even if he’d had few expectations upon his arrival. He’d had no idea why she’d asked him to call, but he had never imagined this.
She’d turned to him for help. His heart lightened. She’d turned to him once before, and he’d failed her. He would not fail her now. And in the process, somehow, they would find again what they’d once had.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened but somewhere, in the course of their conversation or perhaps it was simply being with her again, he’d accepted what he’d been fighting from the moment he had learned the truth from her father. Everything was different, yet nothing had changed. He had never put Olivia—Livy—behind him. Never truly gone on with his life. Oh, certainly he had been an excellent husband to Alice and would be still if she hadn’t died. He had cared deeply for her, but the affection he had felt for his wife paled in comparison with what he had felt—still felt—for Livy.
Now he had a second chance, not that he deserved it. He had been a fool. But he’d also been young and proud and far too inexperienced to know that there are some things in life worth fighting for. Some things that are rare and valuable and only come once. Some things a man would—should—be willing to give his very life for.
Right now, she was only offering friendship, but it was an excellent place to start. He smiled to himself. Yes, friendship was a first step, and he had time. Who knew long it might take to find the items to complete the late viscount’s collections?
Not that it would be easy to recapture what they’d lost. He had no illusions on that score. In spite of her words about starting anew, there were too many betrayals on his part for her to forget easily or forgive. He would still have to earn her forgiveness, then he would win her heart. And this time, he would not give up.
He couldn’t change the past, but the future was in his hands. Olivia Rathbourne was the one true love of his life, and he would do whatever was necessary to make certain she stayed in his life for the rest of their days.
She needed him, and for the moment it was enough. But he now realized he needed her as well. He always had. Resolve throbbed in his blood. He would win her back. And he would do everything in his power to help her find the items needed to gain the inheritance that should, by rights, already be hers.
And he absolutely refused to consider what might happen when they succeeded. When she no longer needed him.
Five
Follow my heart.
From the secret list of desires of Olivia Rathbourne
“In many ways, Lady Rathbourne.” Mr. Hollis peered at her in a disapproving manner. “While your decision does not come as a complete surprise, the haste with which you have reached it is distressing. I had hoped for a somewhat more considered response from you.”
“I have given this a great deal of consideration, Mr. Hollis. Indeed, I have thought of little else,” Olivia said coolly, addressing the solicitor, who was seated in front of her desk. Olivia had taken the chair behind the desk before Hollis could do so. She refused to be in the subservient position she’d had at their last meeting. Sterling stood close at hand near the fireplace, and even if she did not wish to admit it aloud, his very presence strengthened her resolve and bolstered her courage. Nathanial and Gabriella sat discreetly at the far end of the library along with a young man Mr. Hollis had introduced as Josiah Cadwallender, another solicitor, silent witnesses to the discussion. “It is nothing less than my duty to comply with my late husband’s wishes.”
“And yet I cannot imagine the late viscount, or any rational husband, truly expecting you to do so.”
“Then he should not have placed such stipulations in his will.” She cast the solicitor a serene smile. The man really did deserve to be strangled or perhaps simply whipped thoroughly. Each was a delightful thought. “And perhaps you should have done more to dissuade him.”
Mr. Hollis ignored her. “And for you to attempt to complete his collections with assistance”—his gaze slid to Sterling then back to her—“from a gentleman who is not a relation is nothing short of scandalous.”
“I am a longtime friend of Lady Rathbourne’s family,” Sterling said smoothly.
“Who has graciously offered his assistance in this endeavor.” Olivia shrugged. “The appearance of scandal does not concern me. My concern is only to fulfill my late husband’s final request. As any dutiful wife would,” she added in a prim manner.
Sterling coughed, then smiled apologetically.
“Even so, Lady Rathbourne.” The solicitor’s brow furrowed, and he again gla
nced at Sterling. “This is most improper, and I cannot approve.”
Sterling glanced at her. “Is his approval necessary?”
“Not to my knowledge.” She fixed Mr. Hollis with a firm look. “Is there something in the will regarding the manner in which I acquire these items? Something prohibiting me from accepting help?”
“No.” Mr. Hollis sputtered. “Still, it is most improper.”
“Propriety is no more a concern than scandal.” She narrowed her eyes. “You cannot have it both ways, Mr. Hollis. You cannot bemoan the fact, as you did at our last meeting, that I had no male present for guidance, and now complain that the gentleman in attendance is unsuitable.”
Sterling’s brow rose. “I can’t recall ever being regarded as unsuitable.”
A faint snort of laughter sounded from the back of the room, obviously from Sterling’s brother. Mr. Cadwallender had scarce said a word other than a polite murmured greeting.
“Oh no, my lord, I mean nothing of the sort,” Mr. Hollis said quickly, obviously aware of the implications of insulting the Earl of Wyldewood. The earl was a man of power and wealth who could engage Mr. Hollis’s firm in the future. Or ruin it. Mr. Hollis turned to Sterling. “My apologies, my lord. I mean no insult.”
Sterling nodded.
“It is simply my responsibility to ensure that Lord—Lady Rathbourne’s interests are protected. As well as the interests of the estate.” Mr. Hollis raised his chin. “Surely you can understand my concern?”
“Absolutely, and your concern is commendable,” Sterling said in what could only be called his best Earl of Wyldewood manner. It was most impressive. “You may rest assured on that score. I fully intend to make certain Lady Rathbourne’s interests are indeed protected. And Lady Rathbourne is your client now, is she not?”
“Yes, of course, my lord. As she is, I would advise strongly against this undertaking.” He turned his attention to Olivia. “Lady Rathbourne, as I said yesterday, your life can continue in the comfortable manner it always has. There is no need—”
“There is every need, Mr. Hollis,” she said in a calm tone that belied the frustration churning within her. “I have no desire to continue my life in the manner I have lived it thus far. I am now a widow and still young enough to wish to have more out of the rest of my days than a comfortable existence. My late husband has set me a challenge, and I shall rise to it.”
“Very well then.” Mr. Hollis stood and gathered his papers. “I shall take my leave. Mr. Cadwallender will remain to inform you of the first item to be acquired. In addition, he will accompany you in your pursuit of the items.”
“He will what?” Olivia rose and leveled an annoyed look at the solicitor. “Why? To what purpose?”
“To ensure that your interests and the interests of the estate are protected,” Mr. Hollis said.
“As well as the interests of your firm,” Sterling pointed out.
“Without question, my lord.” Mr. Hollis met the earl’s gaze directly. “Lord Rathbourne’s estate is sizable.”
“As is the income you derive from its administration no doubt.” Sterling smiled a noncommittal sort of smile that nonetheless spoke volumes.
“Quite right, my lord.” Mr. Hollis squared his shoulders. “And I would be remiss in my responsibilities to my firm, as well as to his late lordship’s estate, if I failed to provide a witness and documentation as to Lady Rathbourne’s efforts. While there is nothing regarding how she acquires these items, it clearly states in the will that the administrators of the estate are to make certain in whatever manner they deem necessary that there will be a concise accounting of the methods employed to complete the collections.” He glanced at Olivia. “As I am certain her ladyship noted in her perusal of the copy of that document and the others I left for her yesterday.”
“Yes, of course,” Olive said blithely. She’d been far too busy coming up with a way to meet the terms of the blasted will to do more than skim it. “It simply slipped my mind.”
“His expenses, within reason, will be paid by the firm. In addition he will be able to provide legal counsel should it be required. He is unmarried and unencumbered and, in spite of his youth, has a good head on his shoulders. He will represent the interests of the firm well. Good day, my lord.” Mr. Hollis nodded at Sterling, then at Olivia. “Lady Rathbourne. I do hope, should you be successful that you continue to allow this firm to be of service—”
“Yes, yes.” She tried and failed to hide the impatience in her voice. “In the manner in which you served Lord Rathbourne.”
“And, I might add, served him well,” Mr. Hollis pointed out. “Good day, Lady Rathbourne.” With that, the solicitor took his leave.
Sterling chuckled softly. “The man has no idea does he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Olivia said in a lofty manner.
Sterling leaned closer, and said under his breath, “I’m talking about the fact that, should we succeed, it would take the power of heaven itself to convince you to retain his firm.”
“It scarcely matters at the moment as I am not in a position to employ or dismiss him.” Still, Sterling was right, and it was most annoying. She stared at him. “Do not think you know me, Sterling Harrington. I am not the same girl I was.”
He smiled a slow knowing smile, and she resisted the urge to smack him. “Some things never change, my dear.”
She ignored him and turned to the trio at the back of the library. “Mr. Cadwallender, Nathanial, Gabriella would you join us?”
Sterling’s brother and his fiancée approached the desk. The solicitor was a step behind, well-worn valise in hand.
“Mr. Cadwallender,” Olivia began, “no doubt you heard the bulk of the conversation.”
“Not at all, my lady. I tried very hard not to hear a word.” the young man said stiffly. Dear Lord. In spite of his handsome face and admirable form, the solicitor was following in the footsteps of the eminently stuffy Mr. Hollis.
“I heard.” Nathanial grinned. “Not everything but enough to know what’s going on.”
“Sterling acquainted us with the details of the viscount’s will.” Gabriella’s gaze met Olivia’s. Gabriella’s work cataloguing Olivia’s late husband’s antiquities would have led to her appointment as curator of a museum of the viscount’s collections. Olivia knew nothing of his plan until after his death. Nor did she care. She had never seen his treasures and had no interest in them. “How can we be of help?”
“I don’t know that you can, yet.” Olivia looked at Mr. Cadwallender. “It all depends on what Mr. Cadwallender has to say.”
“Yes, of course.” Mr. Cadwallender drew out an envelope from his valise, presenting it to Olivia with a vague hint of a flourish. Perhaps there was hope for the young man after all.
Olivia tore open the envelope, unfolded the single page, and stared at the few lines of precise writing. Her stomach lurched slightly at the recognition of her late husband’s hand. “I have no idea what this is.”
She passed the page to Sterling, who glanced at it and handed it to his brother. Nathanial read it and exhaled a long breath. “Well, this will not be easy. The first item is the canopic jar of Aashet bearing the head of Imsety.”
Olivia frowned. “A what?”
“Ancient Egyptians placed the organs of a body in canopic jars during mummification,” Nathanial said. “There were usually four jars, each often with a stopper carved in the shape of a different head. A human, a baboon, a jackal, and a falcon, representing protective spirits if you will. The jar with the human head represented Imsety.”
“Dare I ask what that jar would have held?” Sterling winced.
“The liver, I think.” Nathanial looked at Gabriella for confirmation, and she nodded.
“Aashet was believed to have been a concubine or perhaps a lesser wife of Tuthmosis III, ruling, oh, more than three thousand years ago,” Gabriella said.
“I see.” Olivia thought for a moment. “Well, if we need one jar
to complete a collection presumably, my late husband had the other three.”
All eyes turned to Gabriella. “I really can’t say,” she said in an apologetic manner. “There is a great deal here that remains to be catalogued. I suggest we look.”
“That’s a bit of a problem.” Olivia blew an annoyed breath. “As you know, the viscount kept his collections in a specially built room.” She turned toward Sterling. “A vault really, but he referred to it as a treasure room.” She glanced around the library. “I know the entrance is in here, but as I have never seen it, I neither know exactly where it is nor do I know how it’s opened. I assumed I would have the walls demolished to reach it.” And indeed, had relished the idea of destroying the house wall by wall.
“We know where it is.” Nathanial stepped to a book shelf, pulled off a handful of volumes to reveal a lever mounted on the back wall of the shelf. “The viscount showed us on Gabriella’s first visit. This opens the door to the room. The lever is released by a combination lock.”
Sterling raised a brow. “And that is located where?”
Gabriella shook her head. “I don’t know. The few times I was here . . .” Gabriella’s gaze strayed to the French doors that opened to a small garden. No doubt the poor girl was remembering the day when she had found Olivia’s late husband propped on a garden seat in a pool of blood. “Lord Rathbourne always dialed the combination before my arrival.”
“I believe I can help.” Cadwallender rummaged in his valise and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Mr. Hollis provided me with copies of everything he left for you.” His gaze shifted to Olivia, without so much as a glimmer of chastisement in his eyes. “The combination lock is behind a three-volume set of Mr. Dickens’s Great Expectations.”
At once, the group turned toward the bookshelves. “Here.” Sterling pulled out the books to reveal a combination lock resembling that on a fair-sized safe. “I assume, Cadwallender, you have the combination as well.”
Desires of a Perfect Lady Page 6
