The Butterfly Formatted

by Vale, Victoria

  That was when he understood. Of course she needed his help. Adam was a stubborn bastard. The man wanted to kill Daphne’s brother, and she wanted to stop him. Perhaps her loyalties lay with her family, after all.

  Had he been wrong to cease taking his anger out on her?

  “I s’pose ye want me to help ye talk him out of it,” he hedged.

  Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, fatigue showing in the dark circles under her eyes. “He cannot go through with it, Niall. You hate my brother as much as he does, but even you must see that.”

  That gave him pause. He arrived back to grudging respect as her true motives made themselves apparent. It was not Bertram she wanted to protect, but Adam. Despite being a peer, murder was an offense he might not survive. He could hang just as Niall would, and there would be little any of them could do about it. She must see what he understood—that Adam would only kill Bertram because he felt it was justified, because it was what needed to happen for Olivia to be safe.

  “Hart’s a hard man ’cause he’s had to be,” he replied. “But he’s no killer.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and she took a step toward him. “Then you’ll help me.”

  Niall scoffed, shaking his head. She really was daft. “And have him turnin’ all that rage on me? I’m no fool, lass. Once Hart gets it in his head that somethin’ must be done, there’s no stoppin’ him.”

  With a frustrated growl, she pressed her fingertips against her temples as if she suffered a headache. “I know that! Don’t you think I know that?”

  Her sharp tone drove his eyebrows upward, then made him smirk as he saw this woman as he never had before. He’d been as blind as he suspected Adam must be. The chit wasn’t daft … she was thinking with her heart, not her head.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually love the bastard.”

  She scowled as if offended by his assertion. “Of course I do not. How could I after all he’s done?”

  The woman had a point. Hart had relentlessly pursued her family’s downfall and ruined her in the process. Even so, it was hard not to see the pull between them, the way she always ran, but Adam continually followed. Daphne never seemed to mind being caught.

  “He does you, ye know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Too much a fool to know it, but it’s true. Why else would ye two be so bloody mad for each other? It defies reason.”

  She looked as if she wanted to argue further, but the matter of Bertram was too important. Niall had to admit, he wondered what Daphne thought he might be able to do to about it.

  “Will you help me or not?” she snapped, hands braced upon her hips. “I cannot do this without you, as Adam will never let me leave the house alone, and I need to be able to leave in order to execute my plan.”

  He rubbed his chin, mind whirling as he thought of what it could mean to end this once and for all. If they could come out of this with clean hands—Adam included—perhaps they all might go on to live some sort of life together, as the family they’d always been. If things went well, Daphne could even become a part of that family. Adam would never let her go, anyway. He’d said himself that he intended to drag her with them to Dunnottar. Niall doubted she had been given much choice in the matter.

  “So, ye’ve a plan, then?”

  “I do,” she said. “And it will work, but only if we can convince Adam that I need to go to my townhouse to prepare my own things. He wishes me to have my servants do it, but we must come up with some reason I must be the one … and if you insist you can escort me, then he might relent and allow me to leave. Please, Niall.”

  Thinking of the woman waiting for him upstairs, he realized that this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for—his chance to do something to help do away with Olivia’s tormentor. He could not stand back and let the bastard go on torturing the people he loved, but neither could he allow his best friend to potentially go down for murder. As much as he wanted to take Adam’s side in this, the events of the day had shown him that things had to change. Something had to give, and as long as Bertram was made to pay, what did it matter if he, or Adam, were the ones to deal the blow?

  “Aye, then,” he relented. “I’ll help ye. But, if we’re caught, ye’ll take the fall for it, lass.”

  With a wide smile, she threw herself into his arms. The collision of their bodies knocked the wind from him, shock heightening the effect when she wrapped her arms around his neck and bussed his cheek.

  He would never have expected it. He’d never been anything but gruff toward her, and here she was kissing him as if they were family or some such. It caught him so off guard, he could only pat her back with a grunt, then set her away from him. He had only just decided he did not hate her, after all. It would be some time before he was ready for more than that.

  “Dinnae think this makes us friends, me and you.”

  To his surprise, she only grinned wider. “Oh, never that, Niall.”

  Taking up his Burgundy, he left her alone without another word. As he made his way back to the kitchen, he tried not to let his hopes rise too far. If Daphne were as smart as he assumed, her plan would work. By the end of this week, Olivia could be a free woman.

  What would happen beyond that, he did not know. However, the state of not knowing made him smile, as he found it far preferable to an existence of bleak torment and pining after a woman who could not love him back the way she once had.

  Not knowing loomed before him in a wide expanse, and this, in turn, opened up a world filled with opportunity.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Three days later …

  livia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the cool morning air flooding her nostrils and lungs, the slight sting as pure and good as the scent of the blossoms growing all around her. Not as large or lush as her garden back home, the little courtyard cultivated with a small variety of flowers here in London was just green and colorful enough to feed her senses. Niall told her she often wandered to the gardens at Dunnottar, sitting amongst the blossoms. He said they’d made her happy in her more lucid moments, and she spent many pleasant afternoons there.

  The tragedy of it was, she could remember no such times. The past five years of her life had sped in a blur of pain, misery, and torment, with Niall, Adam, and Serena presenting sporadic bursts of goodness and light. Looking back, she wondered how she had ever survived for so long.

  But that is just the thing. I only survived … I did not live.

  Reaching out toward a winter-blossoming rosebush just beginning to bud, she caressed the waxy green leaves, tenderly touching one half-open flower. It had been so long since she’d truly enjoyed the velvety texture of a rose petal, or the taste of her favorite foods. It felt like it had been an eternity since she had really laughed or smiled … or, anything, really.

  And making love. God, how glorious was such a thing?

  Bertram had robbed her of the chance to give her maidenhead to the person of her choosing, whether it be Niall or another. He had taken the last bit of her innocence and cast her into a dark pit of despair.

  But her Niall had thrust his hand down into that abyss and taken hold of her, refusing to let go, coming into the darkness to pull her into the light. He had banished the taste of Bertram out of her mouth, giving her everything she had been denied. It had been worth the wait, she’d realized on the morning after her harrowing laudanum relapse. Everything she’d been through, all that she had suffered and lost … it could never be completely washed away. But knowing she could find pleasure and joy with Niall, knowing that part of her had not been completely killed, gave her a hope she’d never thought she could find again.

  It made her smile in the days that had followed. It made her laugh and chase Serena about the halls—no matter how thoroughly it sapped her strength. It made her drink more chocolate and wine and eat all the foods that had been her favorites, and even discover new ones. It made her inspect the newly blossomed rose with such reverence and anticipation. Like this flower, she wo
uld bloom and grow, unfurling to the sun shining down upon her with such warmth.

  Yes, she still craved laudanum. Daily, in fact. But it only took one look at Niall, one hug from Serena, one hour of playing the harp, to bring her full circle and remind her of the places she never wanted to go again.

  Now that she was clearheaded, she became more aware of the things going on in the house. Adam was brooding as usual, though Olivia could tell something had been bothering him beyond the typical annoyances. However, he’d been so unpredictable in his moods, she’d been reluctant to pry. Niall had been in and out of the house on some mission he insisted to be important and related to their return to Dunnottar.

  “We’re goin’ home soon, mo gradh,” he had told her just yesterday. “Don’t ye worry about anythin’ except gettin’ yer rest.”

  She was sick of resting. While she did want to go home, she also wanted to know what the bloody hell everyone was being so secretive about.

  The sound of soft footsteps over the stone path of the garden had her swiveling on the bench she occupied. She found Lady Daphne coming toward her, a shawl draped over her long-sleeved morning gown, a cap covering her auburn hair. Olivia shifted over on the bench to make room.

  “I hope I am not interrupting,” Daphne said while settling in beside her. “You appear to be enjoying the pleasant morning.”

  “I am,” she replied. “But I would love the company. Besides, we haven’t had much time to really talk, you and I.”

  “I know. I have been waiting for an opportune moment … when the men aren’t underfoot. Adam is busy in his study with estate affairs, and Niall has taken Serena out for a walk. This seemed as good a time as any.”

  Olivia smiled. “It is lovely to properly meet you, I suppose. Our first introduction … I cannot remember much about it.”

  Daphne raised her eyebrows. “You thought I was coming to take Serena away and … well, you attacked me quite viciously.”

  Olivia’s conscious prickled with guilt, one hand coming up over her open mouth. “Oh, God! Oh … I am so sorry! I couldn’t have meant it.”

  Reaching out to pat her hand, Daphne laughed. “Oh, you meant it, but it is all right. You did not know me … only that I was a Fairchild. You were protecting that sweet little girl, even in the midst of your terror. I admire you very much, Olivia. I hope you know that. I do not begrudge you a thing.”

  “Thank you. Still, I am sorry.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Daphne insisted. “Now, there is something important you and I must discuss. Niall would kill me if he knew I was telling you this, and Adam would help him, but I do not care. This involves you as much as the rest of us, and I do not think it fair for them to go on handling you like a delicate piece of glass. I was once treated that way by my family, you know … cosseted, spoiled, hidden away from the things that might upset me. I do not like the feeling.”

  “Neither do I. I have wondered what is going on all this time, but everyone seems to think I am still too fragile to stomach it. I am grateful for you, Lady Daphne.”

  “Just Daphne, please. We need not stand on formality with one another. I should warn you that what I must tell you has to do with my brother.”

  Bertram.

  Her hands clenched together in her lap, and her mouth went dry. But, even as her stomach roiled and her hands began to sweat inside her gloves, she found that thinking his name did not disturb her as much it once had. In fact, the fear was just a little less acute this time … a bit easier to stomach, no longer so crippling.

  “Is it too much?” Daphne prodded. “If it is, I will let the matter drop.”

  Swallowing, Olivia shook her head. “No, no. It is time for me to stop running. Whatever it is, I want to hear it.”

  “He knows … about Serena … your condition.”

  Olivia choked down the knot of fear working its way into her chest. Her memories of the threats made against her reared their ugly head. She had been told that Bertram’s uncle would return to take the babe, and her fear for Serena had been a crushing weight during every hour of every day she’d spent in the asylum.

  Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that days had passed since Bertram’s visit and that the uncle, William Fairchild, had been dead some time now. She had Adam and Niall here to protect them. The bruises just beginning to fade across Niall’s knuckles stood as a testament to his promise to keep them safe. If Bertram had not returned, there must be more to this.

  “What does he want?”

  “Money,” Daphne replied with a heavy sigh. “Quite a lot of it. He has attempted to extort a large sum from Adam in exchange for leaving Serena be and keeping his silence about your ordeal.”

  “But he will never stop!” she declared, rising to her feet and beginning to pace.

  The panic was overwhelming her, beating out rational thought. And, oh God, Niall had taken Serena out walking! What if Bertram happened upon them? What if something horrible happened? What if …

  “That is why we must stop him,” Daphne replied, standing and reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “I have a plan, and Niall has been helping me set it in motion.”

  This calmed her a bit, and she went still, shaking her head and trying to make sense of it all. “Niall? Why not Adam?”

  “Because Adam plans to kill him … we are trying to intervene before he does.”

  “He would settle on death as an only option.”

  “Well, he and I agree that Bertram must die … we simply disagree on the method.” At Olivia’s frown, Daphne took her hands and guided her back to the bench, easing her down. “You see … I intend to have my brother prosecuted for what he has done. When Adam struck out to bring him down, it was mostly for your sake, but also for the sake of other women like you. It came to his attention that you were not the only one.”

  While she had always suspected such, it brought her a certain kind of relief to hear her suspicions confirmed. Not because she wished what had happened to her upon any other woman, but because knowing she was not alone helped combat her mind’s notion that any of it had been her fault. If Bertram had other victims, it meant that she might have fallen prey to him no matter how foolishly she’d acted, no matter what she had or had not done.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and then released it, her mind racing at the implications of all this. “How do you plan to go about this? It is near impossible to bring down a peer … especially without witnesses.”

  The idea of having to appear in a public court, to give voice to the things that had been done to her before the world, made her blood run cold. It made her want to retreat back inside her mind where she might hide from this pain, this fear. However, she’d decided to stop hiding, hadn’t she? Perhaps that meant finally showing her face to the society she’d left behind and letting them all know where she had been all this time.

  “I have already been in contact with a magistrate who assures me that the testimony of Bertram’s victims will provide adequate enough evidence for a conviction,” Daphne replied. “However, he has warned me—and I agree—that it might be difficult to convince these women to come forward. The shame is bad enough on its own … now, we must ask them to air it all out in public. They could be ruined over it.”

  Olivia wondered if Daphne knew that many of these women likely already felt ruined. Even if they’d gone on to lead better lives than her, they might always feel as if they carried the stain of their assault upon their souls. Perhaps it might be worth the exposure of all their secrets if Bertram could be prevented from hurting another unwitting woman.

  “I want to bring these women together,” Daphne continued. “If even a few of them will agree to tell the world their stories, then we can put a stop to this. We can protect the women of London from my brother. I do not expect you to be one of them, Olivia—please know that. Of Bertram’s known victims, I can find no evidence that he sired a child upon any other than you. You were the only one who bore a child, who suffered in an
unwed mothers’ asylum, the only one who …”

  “Went mad,” Olivia offered. “I am the one who stands to lose the most by going public.”

  “Yes. Adam and Niall would never countenance you and Serena being exposed, and neither would I. The purpose of my coming to you was not to ask you to testify. I simply wanted you to know what Niall and I are up to … what we intend to do.”

  Olivia mulled that over for a moment, her gaze wandering out over the small garden. For all its beauty, she hardly registered any of it now, the foliage and flowers blurring into a mottled haze, through which she could only see the horrors of her past. What sort of coward was she, that she could not risk exposing herself in order to bring down her tormentor? How broken was she if she could not even speak of the things she had endured?

  “I’d like to help, if I can,” she said slowly, thinking upon each word as if fell from her lips. “I understand the wisdom in keeping my own ordeal private. Serena is the most innocent of us all in this mess, and protecting her will always be the most important thing in the world to me. But, I might help you convince these women. Maybe, if they could see that they aren’t alone … if I told them what he did to me …”

  Daphne was holding her hand again, squeezing it, seeking out her gaze with a heavy measure of concern in her own eyes.

  “You are not obligated to do that. After all you’ve endured, you have earned the right to your peace and privacy, Olivia.”

  She could be right; but, Olivia could not have stopped the outpouring of her soul in that moment. She had gone so long without speaking of it, confronting it. It was now more important than ever for her to step out of the shadows, if for no other reason than some other woman might be saved because she’d finally stopped being so afraid to face her demon.

  “I’ve never really spoken of it, you know. When I returned to Scotland with Serena in my arms, I could hardly express myself in words. I managed to say enough for Adam and Niall to grasp what had been done, and my brother’s own investigation helped him puzzle out the rest. But, I have never actually told anyone what happened, how it happened, and I … I think that perhaps it is time that I did.”