Desires of a Perfect Lady

by Victoria Alexander

  “I do not grovel.” Sterling sniffed. Still, he would crawl on his hands and knees if it came to that. Which was, no doubt, the very definition of groveling.

  “Perhaps this particular situation calls for a certain amount of groveling.” Josiah paused. “I care for her a lot, you know.”

  Sterling raised a brow. “I hope you don’t think our estrangement will increase your chances.”

  Josiah shook his head. “I have lost her. Or rather, lost any chance with her if I ever had one. I know that. Regardless, I would not want to see her unhappy.” He sighed. “And I think her happiness lies with you. Therefore”—he straightened his shoulders as if accepting the inevitable—“I shall assist you by whatever means necessary.”

  Sterling smiled. “Your offer is most appreciated, and I shall certainly call on you if need be. I think her happiness lies with me too. I know mine lies with her.” Sterling directed his gaze back toward the water. “Now, I just have to make her realize it as well.”

  This was absurd.

  During their last two voyages, Olivia had discovered just how much she loved being on the water. And she was not about to spend one more day alone in her cabin. If she ran into Sterling, so be it. She would be polite but distant. Pleasant but not especially friendly.

  She left her cabin and made her way to the deck. Sterling was nowhere in sight. She breathed a sigh of relief and ignored the tiniest twinge of disappointment. As long as she could avoid him, she could avoid everything. The past as well as the future. And she certainly could not make rational decisions when every time she looked at him, she ached to be in his arms.

  She leaned against the railing and gazed out at the sea. She simply didn’t know what to do. The words they’d exchanged had made her think long and hard. Not merely about the past or how much they had both changed but about what she truly wanted now. Wanting the life she had once planned with Sterling seemed somehow a betrayal of what she had wanted for the last ten years. A betrayal of herself. Was she truly ready to go from being the possession of one man to being the possession of another? Not that Sterling was anything like her late husband. Still, regardless of the man in question, a wife in this world was little more than property. And hadn’t she spent the last decade longing for freedom and independence? For control of her own life?

  “I wondered if you were going to make an appearance again.” Josiah joined her at the railing. “Or stay in your cabin for the duration of the voyage.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were lying in wait for me.”

  The young man chuckled. “I was.” He paused, no doubt to gather his courage, then plunged ahead. “Are you still angry at Lord Wyldewood?”

  “Are you hoping that might further your position?” She cast him a teasing smile to take any sting out of the words.

  “Oh, no, absolutely not. I would never,” he said staunchly. “Indeed, I have already conceded to Lord Wyldewood that I have lost our wager.” His eyes widened in horror.

  She arched a brow. “And what wager is that?”

  “Nothing really,” he said quickly. “It’s of no significance. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I . . .” Sheer remorse colored his face.

  “But as you have mentioned it.”

  “Um, well, I don’t . . . that is . . .” The poor boy looked miserable.

  “Go on.”

  “It was a wager as to who would win your hand.” He winced.

  “How interesting.” She studied him curiously. “And you have conceded defeat?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because it is obvious to me, even if not to you, that he has your heart.”

  “I see.”

  He considered her in a cautious manner. “You’re not angry?”

  “I should be, I suppose. To have been the subject of a wager like a piece of property.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that at all! It was more . . .” He shrugged helplessly.

  “It seems to me . . .” She chose her word with care. “Any woman who has two dashing men hoping to win her favor should be flattered rather than angry. After all, I was not the prize. The loser was not to hand me over to the winner. Was he?”

  “No, no, it was nothing like that.” He shook his head. “If you agreed to marry me, he was going to employ my firm to ensure me a better income.” He glanced at her. “To better support you.”

  “How very generous of him,” she murmured. “And if he won my hand?”

  “Then he would offer me a position on my own, perhaps help me establish my own firm.”

  She considered him thoughtfully. Regardless of whether Sterling won or lost, the arrangements were such that Josiah, and she, would be better off. It was . . . quite wonderful of him.

  “He’s a very generous man,” Josiah said.

  “And far too clever not to employ someone with your skills and intelligence.”

  “And I shall need employment.” He blew a long breath. “I fully intend to resign my position when your estate is settled.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do. You should have been told about the stipulations regarding time before you decided to accept the viscount’s challenge.”

  “As I recall, I asked Mr. Hollis about time constraints and was told there were none.” Her tone hardened. She should have strangled the man when the thought first occurred to her. “He lied to me.”

  “I would prefer to think that, as he never expected you to take up this challenge at all, let alone so quickly, you took him unawares and the time clause slipped his mind.” He blew a long breath. “But, in truth, I don’t know, and it scarcely matters whether the omission was a mistake or deliberate. That you were not informed might well cost you everything. I cannot work for employers who are less than honorable. For men I cannot respect.” He shook his head. “I could not respect myself if I did.”

  “You are a good man, Josiah Cadwallender. And I am honored to count you among my few friends.” She took his hand and adopted a teasing tone. “So you have given up? On me that is?”

  His expression brightened. “Not if there’s hope?”

  She favored him with an affectionate smile and withdrew her hand. “I’m afraid not.”

  “And you are not angry about the wager?”

  “No.”

  “Then you should know, I have offered to help Lord Wyldewood in any manner he may need in his effort to win your hand.”

  She laughed. “He is a lucky man to have earned your loyalty.”

  “Are you still angry with him?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”

  “Yet you continue to avoid him.”

  “We still have the final collection left to complete. I think we should concentrate our thoughts on that rather than questions of a more personal nature. Avoiding him seems best at the moment.” She shrugged. “Until all is resolved, and I know my own mind.”

  He smiled. “I thought you already did.”

  “Then I present a façade that is something less than accurate.” She shook her head. “There is much for me to consider. My life, the future.”

  “As well as what you truly want.” He was silent for a long moment. “And, I suppose, what you are willing to sacrifice to get it.”

  Twenty-two

  Breathe.

  From the secret list of desires of Olivia Rathbourne

  The moment Olivia stepped over the threshold, into the house that had never been her home, her throat tightened.

  It was not that she had forgotten how dark and oppressive it was. How even the bright late-afternoon sun scarcely penetrated the gloom. How the walls seemed to close in around her. Indeed, she hadn’t given the house a second thought since she walked out and headed toward Egypt. She’d hated this house—this prison—from the first moment she’d entered it. If she was not successful, she would be in it for the rest of her days. Dependent on a minimal allowance, her finances controlled by her late husband’
s solicitors, unable to live. Unable to breathe.

  She swayed slightly on her feet, and Sterling grabbed her arm to steady her.

  Concern creased his forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She cast him a grateful smile.

  Somewhere between Italy and England, they had come to an unspoken understanding, a truce of sorts, about what could be discussed and what could not. They had managed to resume the companionship they’d had before the past had exploded between them. Still, it was Great-aunt Wilomena’s portrait once again. Even when not looked at directly, it was always there. “I just . . . for a moment.” She shuddered. “I have never liked this house.”

  Giddings and the rest of her staff assembled in the entry hall to greet them. He stepped forward. “Lady Rathbourne, I trust your journey was successful.”

  “Very much so.” She had felt it necessary to explain to Giddings why she was going off with Sterling. After all, she hadn’t wanted to shock a new butler with unexplained improper behavior. No doubt by now, the rest of the staff knew as well, and the story had probably spread to the servants of other houses and from them to their employers. She would be surprised if most of London didn’t know about the quest her late husband had sent her on. Not that it mattered. She had no concern over what people might say about her behavior, and she didn’t mind being considered eccentric. She had every intention of behaving precisely as she wished. She had earned the right to do so.

  “Then all is well?” Giddings asked, a cautious note of optimism in his voice.

  “Not yet, but it will be,” she said firmly.

  Giddings gestured to a footman, Terrance, or perhaps Joseph, she couldn’t recall, to take her bags; but the moment the servant picked up her things the walls closed in on her again.

  “No. Wait.” She shook her head. “I can’t stay here.” She pulled a deep breath. “I shall go to a hotel for the time being. Claridge’s perhaps, or—”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Sterling said firmly. “You shall stay at Harrington House.”

  “I couldn’t possibly—”

  He raised a brow, and at once she realized what he hadn’t said. He had paid all her expenses. She had no money for Claridge’s or anywhere else.

  She nodded. “Very well. Giddings.” She turned to the butler. “A Mr. Josiah Cadwallender has been traveling with us and has been most helpful. He went to his offices while we came directly here, but he was to meet us here.”

  Giddings nodded. “I shall direct him to Harrington House, my lady.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Lady Rathbourne.” The butler leaned closer and lowered his voice for her and Sterling’s ears alone. “We are all praying for your success.”

  “Thank you, Giddings.” The most remarkable feeling washed through her. These were all people she or Giddings had hired, and she barely knew any of them. But they were her people and were loyal to her. The number of servants in the house had never been excessive, so even if she failed, they would retain their positions. But the fact that they wished her well . . . a lump rose in her throat.

  “Most appreciated, Giddings,” Sterling said with genuine warmth. “Most appreciated.”

  The butler was too well trained to show undue emotion, but surprise flashed through his eyes. Obviously, he recognized that this was not the same Earl of Wyldewood he’d met previously.

  A few minutes later, they were in a cab headed toward Sterling’s house. A smiled quirked the corners of his mouth.

  “What do you find so amusing?”

  Sterling chuckled. “Your butler.”

  “He’s a very good butler.”

  “No doubt.” Sterling’s smile widened. “He seemed surprised by my manner.”

  “You are not the same man who started out on this journey.”

  “No, I daresay I’m not.”

  She considered him thoughtfully. “Now that we are back, do you think you will become your old self?”

  “Stiff, stodgy, and dull? Good God, I hope not.” He grinned, then sobered. “No, I doubt I will ever be the same. I have tasted adventure, minor really compared to my brothers, but more than I’ve ever experienced. I have seen parts of the world I never thought I would and, in truth, never really cared to see. Travel has never appealed to me, Now . . .”

  “Now?”

  “Now, I wish to see more. I wish to do more. I fear I shall be too restless to resume my old ways, which might well make me a better man. If I am wise enough . . .” He fell silent for a long moment. “Since the death of my father, I have done little more than attend to my responsibilities. I have long prided myself that I have done so well or at least to the best of my abilities. But it’s been years since I have had . . . dreams, I think, if that is the right word. Years since I opened myself to the possibilities presented by life. It was as though I was marking time, waiting for something to happen. Now I know life is too fleeting to waste. I feel, I don’t know, different.” He paused again. “Alive.”

  “So then you do not regret accompanying me?”

  He met her gaze directly, and her breath caught. He took her hand. “I wouldn’t have missed this for all the riches of the world.”

  Neither would I. The thought struck her abruptly. In spite of the stakes involved, what had brought them both to this point, all the questions and fears and concerns, and regardless of how it might end, neither would she.

  And she did not pull her hand away.

  A wave of nostalgia passed over her the moment she stepped through the door of Harrington House. This was how a house should feel. Warm, welcoming, and not entirely perfect. And full of life.

  The family’s butler greeted them. “My lord, we did not expect you today.”

  “The road is full of unexpected twists and turns, Andrews,” Sterling said in a jovial manner.

  The butler’s eyes widened slightly as if he was afraid Sterling would slap him on the back at any minute. Olivia bit back a smile.

  “Where is everyone, Andrews? My brothers, my sister, Aunt Elise?”

  “I have sent Elise home.” Millicent swept down the stairs, a welcoming smile on her face. “And where on earth have you been? We have already been back for several days. I thought we would find you here when we arrived.”

  She moved to her son and angled her face for a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he enfolded her in his arms and hugged her. When he released her, she eyed him curiously. “Are you all right?”

  “I am excellent, Mother. In fact, I daresay I have never been more excellent.”

  “That is . . . excellent.” She stared at him for another moment, then turned to Olivia, holding her hands out to the younger woman. “And how are you, my dear? How goes the quest?”

  “Excellent as well.” Olivia smiled and took her hands. “We have acquired the second item.”

  “That is . . .” Millicent beamed. “Excellent indeed. I wish to hear all about it.”

  “I thought you had planned to stay in Egypt?” Olivia said.

  “I preferred to return home.” Millicent smiled. “I saw the pyramids, rode on a camel, and decided I had had quite enough of heat and sand fleas.”

  “Where is everyone, Mother?” Sterling glanced around as if expecting the rest of the family to flood into the entry at any moment and greet him. And looking a shade disappointed that no one did.

  “Nathanial is with Gabriella and her family discussing wedding plans. Or perhaps they are somewhere avoiding the discussion of wedding plans. Possibly at a museum or . . .” She shook her head. “I really have no idea. Quinton escorted Reggie to Lady Williston’s garden party.”

  “Quinton?” A skeptical note sounded in Sterling’s voice. “My brother Quinton?”

  “The very one. Acting in your stead, of course. I would have gone but . . .” Millicent forced a feeble cough. “I am feeling a bit under the weather.”

  Sterling laughed. “You just don’t like Lady Williston.”

  She ignored him. “Quinton has taken
his responsibilities as temporary head of the family quite seriously.” Mother beamed. “I am very proud of him, but I never doubted that he would. And Sir Lawrence is visiting with some of his colleagues.”

  “Sir Lawrence is here?” Sterling’s brow rose.

  Millicent’s eyes widened innocently. “Where else would he be?”

  “I don’t know. Egypt? A hotel?”

  “Nonsense.” She sniffed. “He extended the hospitality of his home to us in Cairo. We can do no less in London. Besides . . .” She directed a firm look at her son. “Although I have not yet made up my mind, I may well decide to marry him.”

  Olivia hugged the older woman. “How lovely for you.”

  “Well, I haven’t decided yet. He has asked. Several times, in fact. Now that you are home, I suspect I will give him my answer soon. Well?” She narrowed her gaze and studied her son. “Don’t you have a comment to make?”

  “Frankly, Mother,” he said slowly, “I’m rather surprised you’re not already married.”

  She smiled in a decidedly mischievous manner. “So is Lawrence.” She hooked her arm through Olivia’s and started for the parlor. “I want to hear everything. Where did you go from Cairo?”

  “Venice,” Sterling said behind them.

  “That’s right. How lovely.” She leaned close to Olivia’s ear and lowered her voice. “And how romantic.”

  “There were a few moments . . .” Olivia murmured.

  “I don’t know what you have done to him, my dear, but he is not the same man who left here.” She squeezed Olivia’s arm. “And I am most appreciative.”

  “I can hear you, Mother,” Sterling said with a chuckle.

  “You are supposed to, dear,” Millicent said coolly.

  Olivia and Millicent settled on the sofa. Sterling stood near the mantel, as though indeed he was too restless to sit, his gaze constantly drifting to the doorway. It struck Olivia that he was eager to see the rest of his family, and the tiniest prick of jealousy stabbed her.

  They chatted for a good quarter of an hour, relating most of what had transpired in Venice, with Sterling’s mother interrupting every few minutes to say how clever they had been. While Olivia thought they had been more fortunate than intelligent, it was still nice to hear.