The Seduction of Lady X

by Julia London

  Westhorpe looked utterly shocked. He looked from Harrison to Olivia. “Miss Hastings,” he repeated, and looked to Harrison for confirmation. “You are to marry Miss Hastings.”

  Harrison nodded.

  “Why on earth would she agree to it?” Westhorpe asked. “She has many options to marry a titled man with a legitimate name and improve her situation,” he said, as if marrying Harrison would drag her down to the depths of society.

  “She is the one with child,” Olivia said softly.

  “Good God,” Harrison muttered. “Lady Carey, there is no need to divulge any more.”

  “He must know the truth,” she said simply. “He has lost his brother and he must know the truth.”

  Westhorpe did not seem particularly appreciative of the truth. He glared at Harrison. “So this is how you repay my brother’s generosity?” he asked angrily. “By corrupting his wife’s sister?”

  “I have sought only to save her reputation,” Harrison said, and would have said more had Olivia not stepped in front of him.

  “You misunderstand, David,” she said softly. “The child my sister carries is not Mr. Tolly’s. Mr. Tolly has generously offered to help her.”

  Westhorpe blanched. “What in blazes has been going on here?” he exclaimed. He turned away from them. “I am not prepared for this. It’s unfortunate news, all of it,” he said. “To think of what went on behind my brother’s back, and that your sister is ruined.” He turned back to them. “And now we have a scandal that shrouds my brother’s death. All of England will talk of it, if they aren’t already. Rumors are rampant. And it seems as if they will only grow worse, given this news!”

  “What can be done for it?” Olivia asked. “We sought to avoid scandal—all of us. Unfortunately, Edward’s mistrust and suspicions, mixed with whiskey, brought his end.”

  “Is that what brought his end?” Westhorpe scoffed. “It would seem to me that between you and your sister, Edward was driven mad.”

  “That is not true,” Olivia said, her voice shaking with indignation. “How dare you say such a thing—”

  “I do not know what I should do,” Westhorpe said, cutting her off. “But I do know that this will not be tolerated within the family. We cannot allow anything to give rise to more talk, and as long as the two of you remain here, particularly if Tolly marries Miss Hastings and she has a child—Do you see, Olivia? The scandal gets deeper, and at a time when I must assume control of the family titles and holdings. Everyone will look to see what I do. I don’t see how it may be avoided.”

  “How what may be avoided?” Olivia asked.

  “I think what his lordship suggests is that Alexa and I must go,” Harrison said.

  “Yes, at the very least,” Westhorpe agreed. He shook his head. “The last guests are leaving. I should be there. I will speak with my uncle about this and determine what is to be done. Come now, Olivia. Our guests will expect you to bid them farewell.”

  Olivia looked helplessly to Harrison, then allowed Westhorpe to lead her out.

  When they had gone, Harrison’s hands fisted at his sides. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling indeed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The Careys met after supper in Edward’s study. All of them but Olivia, that was. At half past eleven, they retired for the night. Olivia knew this, for she’d remained in the salon, waiting.

  Not one of them spoke to her as they passed the open door, save David. He stepped into the salon and stood at the threshold, his hands on his waist. “Well then,” he said. “We’ve come to a decision.”

  “Have you?” she asked, rising to her feet.

  “I think it is no surprise that we will ask Tolly and your sister to leave at once. I should like to have kept him on to help me, but that is impossible, given the situation he has placed himself in with your sister.”

  As if Harrison had caused this. As if Harrison was somehow responsible for Edward’s demise, or Alexa’s situation. Olivia knew from David’s demeanor that she would fare no better. “And as for me?” she asked calmly.

  “As for you,” he said, sighing, “we should like you to remain at Everdon Court and mourn Edward as he deserves to be mourned, in a manner befitting a marchioness. After the mourning period, we will . . . we will see to it that you have what you need.”

  It seemed as if she would be banished, after all. “That sounds rather ominous.”

  David sighed again. “My uncle is not as forgiving as am I, Olivia,” he said softly. “It is his suggestion that we make it clear: If you do not cooperate with us and do as we ask, we will see to it that you are left penniless and cut from our society. Naturally, that would extend to your sister as well. My uncle has no wish to lay eyes on you again, but I persuaded him that you ought to at least have your period of mourning.”

  Olivia blinked. “You would throw me out?”

  David glanced away uncomfortably. “As my uncle points out, you bring us nothing. The benefit of this marriage has all been to you, in fortune, in standing, and in connections. Therefore, we will use that benefit to ensure you do not cause us any more painful scandals.”

  “I am astounded,” Olivia said softly. “How can you speak to me as if I am a criminal? Not a fortnight ago, I was your dearest friend, remember?”

  David’s gaze sliced across her. “You should really get some rest, Olivia,” he said, and turned and walked out of the room.

  Olivia did not move. She stood looking at the open door, at the corridor beyond, wanting her chance to speak. She wanted to tell them all the truth about Edward. She wanted to apologize for imagining all the ways she might rid herself of him, and then somehow managing to do it. She wanted to tell them she was sorry for their loss but glad to be free.

  How ironic, Olivia thought, that the guilt was almost as unbearable as her marriage had been.

  At half past midnight, Olivia found herself wandering about the darkened house, a single candle to light her way. It was odd, she thought, how still a house could seem when a soul had left it. She’d always been able to sense Edward’s presence in this house, even when he wasn’t nearby. But she couldn’t feel him any longer. The place where he’d been was just . . . still.

  She moved silently down the corridors, pausing once to look out the window, where a full moon spilled milky light over the gardens where she and Harrison had shared a kiss. Olivia closed her eyes, recalling every moment of it, feeling the memory warm her.

  She would lose him, she knew.

  Olivia knew the Careys well, understood their desire to be perceived as above reproach. Even a hint of scandal—particularly one so intimately tied to Edward’s death—would not be tolerated. She suspected Harrison knew it, as well. He would be given the opportunity to leave on his own terms, and in exchange they would offer him letters of recommendation to find a new post.

  But what would become of her? She had no money of her own, save her dowry. How long would that keep her? She didn’t think it was enough for a house, much less the upkeep. And then there was Alexa, whose secret Olivia had tried so very hard to keep. Now the entire countryside and half of London would speculate about them in ways Olivia couldn’t begin to imagine. The Hastings girls were supposed to land on their feet, but in the end they’d toppled off the mountaintop in a most spectacular fashion.

  Olivia turned the corner of the hallway, walking slowly. Ahead of her was a hint of light, and as she drew closer, she saw the light was coming from beneath Mr. Tolly’s office door. Olivia quickened her pace. She laid her hand on the smooth wood door, pressed her cheek against it, warring with herself. She should walk on, leave well enough alone. They had caused enough trouble as it was. But the temptation to see him, to hold him, was unbearable.

  Before she fully realized what she was doing, she’d put her hand on the knob and turned it.

  When she opened the door and peeked around it, Harrison was standing behind his desk in his shirtsleeves. He’d discarded his neckcloth, had unbuttoned his waistco
at, and his gaze was fixed on the door. When he saw it was she, he came around the desk.

  Olivia slipped inside and shut the door, then put her candle aside.

  He looked concerned, as if he thought something was wrong. “Olivia?”

  There was no conscious thought, nothing but emotion racing through her. Olivia ran to him. She threw her arms around his neck, buried her face in his collar.

  Harrison’s arms wrapped around her like two iron bands. He breathed a long breath and kissed her temple. “Are you all right?”

  Olivia shook her head. “I will never be all right,” she said, her emotions bubbling to the surface, her will to remain above her desires swiftly eroding. “I want to know a moment of happiness, Harrison,” she said. “Just one.”

  “Ah, sweetheart,” he said, and roughly smoothed her hair back. He looked down at her with concern and despair and love, all of it. She could feel the connection to him, could feel the pull of his heart to hers. Everything she had ever wanted was standing right there in front of her, and yet the gulf between them seemed even wider than it had before Edward had died.

  Olivia lifted her head, rose up on her toes, and kissed Harrison with everything that she was feeling.

  But he instantly put her down on her feet and held up one finger between them. “Do not touch me, Olivia. My power to resist you has been severely compromised, and I cannot promise that I will not take full advantage of any encouragement you show me.”

  “A moment is all I ask. To know, for once in my life, what it is to be loved.”

  Harrison’s gray eyes flashed darkly as he crushed her to him, his mouth on hers, kissing her hard, holding her as if he were afraid she would fly away if he let go.

  Olivia knew very well what she was doing. She was giving credence to the gossip, she was betraying her sister—but in that fog of deep arousal and desire, she also knew it was the only time in her life she would ever know what it was to be wholly desired, and to desire someone completely in return. She would not shy away from it—not this time.

  She was free.

  Harrison whirled her around and pushed her up against the door, locking it. His mouth, so warm and wet on hers, was as tormenting as it was pleasurable. It jolted her, rattled every bone and nerve. Her body curved into his and she felt as if she blended into him, as if she fit his arms and his body as though they were meant to be together like this. She clung to his hard frame, felt his muscles moving beneath her hands.

  She’d never felt anything so strongly as the need for him, on her, in her, around her. As his tongue swirled around hers, and his hands caressed her sides, her torso, then her breast, Olivia forgot about Alexa, about Edward, about everything that had happened. She saw, she felt, only Harrison. She was emboldened by his obvious desire and admission of affection. He’d finally unleashed his desire, and it was clashing with hers in one luscious storm of pleasure.

  He eagerly explored her mouth while his hands moved on her body, sliding down one curve, up another while she sought his hair with her fingers, then his neck and chest.

  Harrison suddenly lifted her off her feet, twirling her around and setting her on the chair. He dipped down to the hollow of her throat. “At last, I feel your heartbeat,” he said. Her racing, galloping heart. Olivia dropped her head back with a moan as Harrison sought the skin of her bosom with his mouth. White-hot shivers of anticipation shimmered down her spine, sparking in her groin, making her damp. When Harrison pressed the hard ridge of his erection against her leg, she inhaled a ragged, ravenous breath.

  He cupped her face, pressed his forehead to hers. “You cannot imagine the power you possess over me. With a look, a sigh, a smile, you reduce me to nothing but hunger.”

  “It is the same power you possess over me,” she said, and pushed back a lock of dark hair from his brow. Harrison kissed her tenderly, and slid his hands to her shoulders, then her rib cage, sliding them down, to her hips. He dipped one hand beneath the hem of her gown and slid it up her leg.

  Olivia moaned and pressed against him, encircling his neck with her arms, teasing him with the tip of her tongue. He moved his hand higher, touching the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

  She gasped at the galvanizing sensation. A small voice told her to close her legs, to stop before she’d gone too far and given up everything she’d ever believed. But another voice, a stronger voice, urged her to seize this moment, for it would never come again. She opened her legs a little wider.

  Harrison groaned. He stroked her thigh as he kissed her face and neck. When his fingers brushed the apex of her legs, the exquisite sensation ran through Olivia like a river.

  She reached for his trousers, her fingers finding the buttons and undoing them. His member sprang free of his clothes and into her hand. She closed her eyes as he stroked her, willingly riding the wave of pleasure that was building, stroking him, feeling him swell and harden. His fingers swirled around the core of her pleasure, sliding deep inside her, moving faster. He anchored her with one arm around her, his eyes on her face, watching her succumb to his touch and to pleasure she had never known.

  “Harrison,” she said, her voice rough.

  He moved between her legs. “Let go and allow yourself this.” He began to stroke her again, and when Olivia teetered on the edge of a climax, he pushed into her, filling her up.

  Olivia gasped loudly at the sensation of Harrison’s body in hers. She fell back against the chair, clinging to his arms, moving with him, against him, rising up to meet each thrust. He moved in her as he caressed her, riding her into an explosive climax that shattered around her. It felt as if pieces of her were raining down around them. In the next moment, Harrison groaned and yanked free of her, spilling his seed on her thigh. Olivia clung to the arms of the chair as she fought for her breath. Harrison touched his forehead to hers as he sought his. “Never,” he said breathlessly. “Never have I been more fulfilled. Never have I desired a woman as I have desired you for more than six years. Only you. Always you.”

  She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on the mouth, lingering there, exalting in the sensation of having joined with him so completely.

  Harrison kissed her cheek, her forehead, and then tenderly kissed her mouth before gathering her in his arms and holding her to him.

  Olivia had never felt so connected to another. Her heart was beating against his chest, trying to leap into his. She could feel unshed tears in her eyes, could feel her blood flowing hot and heavy through every vein. The heavens were shimmering above them, blanketing them.

  Several moments passed before Harrison put his palm to her cheek and kissed her, softly, languidly. And then he leaned back.

  “No,” Olivia said, reaching for him, but Harrison gained his feet. He straightened and fastened his clothes. He smiled down at her as he ran his fingers through his hair, then reached down and stroked the crown of her head.

  She pressed her cheek into his palm and closed her eyes, desperate to memorize every moment, every sensation. But reality began to seep back in like smoke, curling in around her tender thoughts for Harrison, sneaking in between them.

  He came down on one knee beside her and cupped her face. “Let us leave here, Olivia,” he said softly. “Let us leave Everdon Court behind, once and for all.”

  Olivia took his hand and pressed it between hers, and kissed the tip of each finger, one by one.

  “What do you say?”

  “Where would we go?”

  “Ashwood,” he said instantly. “I’ve inherited Ashwood. We’ll go there—”

  “Scandal would follow us,” she said.

  “I don’t give a damn about scandal,” he said earnestly, and cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. “You are the only thing that concerns me, Olivia. You are the only thing that has concerned me all these years. Do you know how much I love you? I love you, and God knows I have longed to tell you so, to kiss you, to make love to you. And now, in the misfortune that has befallen this family, a mir
acle has happened—I no longer have to love you from afar. I can love you every day, provide for you and care for you in every way.”

  She could feel a torrent of tears building in her head and chest. She swallowed them down and took his hands in hers. “I cannot come with you,” she murmured.

  Harrison made a sound of impatience, but Olivia squeezed his hand. “What of Alexa? I cannot leave her behind for the sake of my own happiness.”

  “She will understand—”

  “She won’t. She honestly believes she will make a good life with you, that you will give her child a name.” She looked into his eyes. “You of all people know how important that is. She knows her situation is desperate and she has fixed all her hopes in you. Should I tell her that now that my husband is dead, I want you, and she is to fend for herself?”

  “She may reside with us at Ashwood—”

  “The three of us?” Olivia said. “Harrison—Alexa is hopeful for a future that we gave her. That we convinced her she should seize. And now she can sleep knowing that her child will not suffer the same fate that you suffered. How can I take that from her? She is my sister—”

  “I don’t care,” he said roughly.

  “Perhaps not now. But in the years to come, when you see Alexa and her child, will you not feel at least a bit of remorse? I think you will. I think you will feel as if you pursued your own happiness at the expense of an innocent child.”

  “But I love you,” he insisted.

  “And I love you,” she said sadly. “Unfortunately, fate sometimes intervenes in our happiness.”

  He pulled his hands from hers and stood up. “If you are determined, you will think of many reasons why you cannot come with me. But have you thought of why you should? Have you thought of your happiness? You are free now, Olivia. You are free.”

  Olivia looked down at her black bombazine and shook her head. “I am not free. I’ve simply moved to another cage. I am held captive by my esteem for you, and the fact that I am all that my sister has in this world. Alexa is not free—she is held captive by a bastard child. And the child . . . the child is not the least bit free, is it? The child faces a lifetime of censure.”