Counterfeit Earl

by Anne Herries

  her eyes.

  'Unfortunately, I do have business that takes me from Brighton,' Jack said. 'But I shall return for

  our dance, and then I hope to be free to accompany you to your sister's home, and to spend some

  time with you there.'

  Olivia nodded. She wished that he need not leave Brighton at all, but there were only five days

  before the dance, and they would soon pass.

  'Then I shall try to be patient,' she said a little wistfully. 'You must not neglect your business for

  my sake.'

  'Once we are married, we shall have all the time in the world to get to know one another,' Jack

  said. He turned her hand over to kiss the palm and the look in his eyes set her heart racing like the

  wind. 'I thought we might travel for a while—to the continent, perhaps Italy? If you would care for

  it?'

  'To Italy?' Olivia stared at him in surprise. 'Could we really do that?'

  'I see no reason why not.' Jack laughed. 'And now I must leave you. I have arrangements to make

  before I leave Brighton.'

  'You will dine with us this evening?' Beatrice asked.

  'Forgive me, but I cannot,' Jack apologised. 'I have a prior engagement I must keep.'

  Olivia was disappointed by his refusal. She had hoped to have a little time alone with her fiancé

  before his departure, but it was obviously not to be. There was nothing for it but to smile and put a

  brave face on things. Accompanying him to the door, she gave him her hand to kiss. In her heart,

  she hoped that he might sweep her up in his arms and kiss her as he had at the ball, but she was

  disappointed. Jack kissed her hand, gave her another heart-wrenching smile and left.

  Olivia sighed. She was happy to be engaged to the man she loved, but something in her was

  waiting for more—a passionate declaration of undying love perhaps? Her sense of humour came

  to the rescue, and she smiled at herself. Jack was behaving like a perfect gentleman, and she was a

  wicked wanton to wish that he would not! It was very wrong of her to want so much more than the

  chaste kisses he bestowed on her, but she could not help the way her body responded to his merest

  touch.

  Returning to the parlour, she found her sister waiting for her. Beatrice was full of plans for the

  wedding, and Olivia's disappointment was soon forgotten in the excitement of discussing new

  clothes and the list of friends whom she planned to invite.

  They did not go out that evening, and since most people were feeling a little lethargic after the

  excitement of the Regent's ball the previous evening, only a few of Beatrice's particular friends

  came to call. It was not until the following night that Olivia began to receive the congratulations

  and good wishes of her acquaintances.

  They attended a soiree given by Lady Rowlands, and Olivia spent the first part of the evening

  happily listening to the vocalist and talking with friends. She was about to follow her sister into

  supper at nine o'clock when she heard her name mentioned by someone close by.

  'Naturally he had no choice but to offer,' the sharp, spiteful voice said. 'She set her cap at him from

  the start, of course, and I dare say he was caught in her toils. But Reginald saw him with his

  mistress the very next morning. They were embracing. On the promenade! I ask you, is such

  behaviour decent?'

  'Well, what would you expect? I understand it is a long-standing affair between them, and that he

  would have married her years ago if she were free. He is hardly likely to...'

  Olivia resisted the temptation to glance round. She was well aware that one of the voices

  belonged to Lady Clements, and refused to give her the gratification of knowing she had been

  heard. Keeping her head high, she walked on into the supper room, not bothering to listen to the

  remainder of their gossip. She had obviously been intended to hear their spiteful words. Lady

  Clements must wish to cause her distress, perhaps to precipitate another broken engagement.

  Well, she would be disappointed! Olivia's first reaction was one of anger. She would have liked

  to inform Lady Clements of exactly what she thought about her schemes! She could not, of course.

  It would create a terrible scandal. Far better to ignore her, to pretend that she had heard nothing.

  Olivia's pride carried her through the rest of the evening with a smile on her lips, though she was a

  little thoughtful on the carriage ride home.

  'Is something wrong, dearest?' Beatrice asked once they were inside the house and alone. 'You

  seem slightly distant—as if your mind were elsewhere?'

  'Nothing is wrong,' she replied and smiled. 'I suppose I am simply missing Jack.'

  'Already?' Beatrice teased. 'My poor sister! I do not know what is to become of you if you cannot

  spend even one day apart, my love.'

  Olivia shook her head, refusing to be drawn. She pushed the unpleasant incident from her mind as

  she went upstairs to undress. She would not dwell on the cruel words of others. Lady Clements

  had meant to inflict pain because her own plans had gone awry. Olivia would not give her spiteful

  gossip another thought!

  Although it was a while before she succumbed, sleep claimed her at last, and her dreams were so

  pleasant that she awoke refreshed and more determined than ever not to allow herself to be

  swayed by gossip or spiteful tongues. She had broken off her engagement to Lord Ravensden

  because of a jealous girl she had once thought her friend, and though she could not regret having

  done so, she was determined never to be led into such foolishness again. If she had any reason to

  believe the tale was true, she would ask Jack for his explanation, she decided, but she had no

  reason to think ill either of him or of Lady Simmons.

  She clung to her determination not to be upset by any fragments of gossip she might hear during the

  next few days, and, when she met Anne Simmons at a dinner given by a mutual acquaintance,

  greeted her warmly as the friend she had always been. Let the gossips make what they would of

  that!

  The morning of Olivia's dance arrived. Flowers and gifts were delivered at intervals throughout

  the day, including some lovely white roses from Jack and a wonderful gift sent by special

  messenger. Opening the large velvet box, Olivia exclaimed over the beautiful diamond and pearl

  choker necklace inside.

  'How lovely,' Beatrice said when Olivia showed it to her. 'It is just what you need with your new

  gown. You must wear it this evening, dearest.'

  'Yes, I shall,' Olivia replied, her face glowing with happiness. 'Jack asked me to wear it for him.'

  His message had been brief but signed with a kiss. Olivia's heart was suddenly racing like the

  wind, her excitement intense. She could hardly wait for him to come to her.

  He arrived half an hour before they were due to leave for the assembly rooms Lord Ravensden

  had hired for the evening. Beatrice having delayed Harry so that they could be alone for a few

  minutes, Olivia greeted him in the parlour.

  'I am glad to see you safely returned, sir,' she said, a faint flush in her cheeks. 'I hope your

  business was successful?'

  'Jack,' he reminded her, a gleam in his eyes. He took her hand and held it, his eyes going over her

  with approval. She was wearing a gown of pale lemon silk; it had a high waist, and short sleeves

  with epaulettes of Italian gauze with a wreath of his white roses at th
e shoulder. Her hair, was

  caught back from her face with a band of more roses sewn to velvet, and she wore the necklace he

  had sent around her throat; tiny diamond drops given to her by Beatrice hung from her earlobes.

  'My business was tiresome, Olivia. Lawyers, contracts and other matters I would prefer to forget,

  but necessary I fear. However, I was able to see my mother and acquaint her with my intention to

  marry. She has sent gifts for you and a letter, which I shall give you tomorrow. She hopes to be at

  our wedding, but her health will not allow her to travel at the moment.'

  Olivia nodded her understanding. 'Perhaps I could make the journey to see Lady Stanhope, to save

  her the trouble?'

  Jack's brow creased in a frown of denial. 'Mama is seeing no one just now. If she is well enough,

  you will meet her at the wedding. However, my grandfather has indicated that he would like to

  visit Camberwell prior to the wedding to make your acquaintance. If Lady Ravensden would be

  prepared to receive him?'

  'Yes, of course she would,' Olivia said. 'I am sure Beatrice will be very happy for the Earl to visit

  us.'

  'Then I shall send word immediately.' Jack's frown deepened. 'My father will not attend. As you

  may have heard, he is dying, albeit slowly.'

  Seeing the harsh line of his mouth, Olivia refrained from making any comment, and in another

  moment the stern expression had gone, replaced by one of his enigmatic smiles that she found so

  intriguing.

  'But I am remiss! You look beautiful, Olivia,' he said, reaching for her hand. 'Allow me, if you

  please.'

  Her heart fluttered as he slid a ring on to the third finger of her left hand. The ring was shaped like

  a flower, the diamonds beautifully cut and sparkling with a deep fire in the light of the

  chandeliers.

  'It is lovely,' she said, gazing up at him a little shyly. She touched the pendant at her throat. 'Thank

  you, and for the necklace you sent. You are spoiling me, Jack.'

  'You deserve to be spoiled,' he replied, his eyes much warmer now as they rested on her lovely

  face. 'Olivia, I want to...'

  Whatever he had meant to say was lost as the door opened and Beatrice entered, followed by

  Harry.

  'I am sorry to come so soon,' she said, 'but I fear we must be leaving if we are to be ready when

  our guests begin to arrive.'

  'We are quite ready,' Jack said, inclining his head to Lord Ravensden. 'We have some business,

  sir, but it will keep until tomorrow. I believe you will find my lawyers have prepared the

  contracts to your satisfaction.'

  'I am sure I shall,' Harry replied agreeably. 'But we must not bore the ladies with business. As you

  said, the morrow will do well enough. And now, we really should be leaving if we are not to be

  late...'

  That evening was to be the happiest Olivia could ever remember. Since everyone knew that it was

  now her engagement dance, friends and acquaintances feted her, making a great fuss of her. Many

  of them had brought small gifts for her, which all added to the excitement. However, it was Jack's

  behaviour towards her which brought the radiant smile to her face, making her more lovely than

  ever before.

  He was so attentive, so thoughtful, his manner that of a gentleman but also of a lover. They danced

  together for most of the evening, though some of Olivia's friends did insist on stealing at least one

  dance, one or two of the gentlemen declaring themselves to be heartbroken. She found a great deal

  of pleasure in all of this, but it was the way Jack looked at her, the possessive pride in his face as

  he stood by her to receive the good wishes of their guests, which made her feel so happy.

  'You are so lucky,' one of the other young ladies said to her. 'It is obvious that Captain Denning

  cares for you.'

  Olivia only smiled and nodded, but her heart was singing like a lark. Jack's manner had certainly

  been all that she could have asked that evening, and she could not resist a triumphant glance in

  Lady Clements's direction. Surely now that lady could not imagine that Jack had a mistress!

  Lady Simmons was not at the dance. She and her brother's family had left Brighton the previous

  day, but she had sent a kind letter and the gift of a silver rose bowl for Olivia.

  'I shall hope to be at your wedding,' Anne had written, 'but much depends on my being able to

  travel.'

  Lady Clements's sour look told Olivia that the lady was still feeling annoyed that her nephew had

  not succeeded in seducing her into an unwanted marriage. She turned away, her head high. It might

  be that some people would always be ready to whisper spiteful tales, but she did not care for that!

  She would not allow anything to spoil her happiness.

  'My dance, I believe?' Jack swept her away as the musicians struck up the waltz before supper. He

  looked down at her, his eyebrows raised as if sensing the slight cloud that Lady Clements's sour

  look had brought to her. 'Is something wrong, Olivia?'

  'No, nothing at all,' she replied, giving him a smile that banished all doubts. 'I am very happy.'

  'Then that is all I could ask,' Jack said. 'I do pray that you will always be as happy as you are this

  evening, my love—and that I shall never do anything to cause you grief.'

  'I am sure you will not,' Olivia replied. 'Why should you?'

  'I would never do so intentionally,' he said, an odd expression in his eyes. 'But should I ever do

  so, I beg that you will find it in your heart to forgive me?'

  'Of course,' she said, a little puzzled by his odd words. 'But if we love each other, all our hurts

  must be small ones, do you not agree?'

  'Yes, you are perfectly right,' he replied and he was smiling again. 'I think a man would have to be

  a fool indeed if he could not love you, Olivia. You are as lovely inside as out, and that is

  something rare.'

  His compliment left her breathless, all doubts gone in an instant. To say such a thing to her, he

  must indeed love her with all his heart, and if that was so then nothing else mattered. She was

  beginning to be aware that there might be a secret in Jack's heart, a secret hurt that had the power

  to change him from the charming, romantic, teasing man she adored into a brooding stranger. As

  yet she had no idea what that secret might be, but perhaps when they were married he would find a

  way to tell her.

  'You called me a minx, sir,' she reminded him. 'Can it be that you have changed your mind?'

  'No, I have not,' Jack said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter. 'You are indeed a

  wicked jade, my love, but I shall tame you once we are wed.'

  His eyes seemed to promise so much. Olivia's heart beat like war drums, pounding so hard against

  her ribs that she could scarcely breathe. As she gazed up at him, she saw something in his face that

  made her long for her wedding night, for the moment she could be truly his.

  It was gone in an instant, the teasing, enigmatic expression back as he whirled her round and round

  the floor to the music, but Olivia held the memory in her heart. If Jack could look at her like that,

  she had no need to concern herself that he would take a mistress!

  They spent two more days in Brighton before leaving for Camberwell, but Jack was with her so

  often that Olivia's time was filled and she hardly had time to say farewell to her friends. The

  journey ba
ck to Camberwell was broken once more at the home of Lord and Lady Dawlish, who

  were very kind to Olivia and her fiancé.

  'We shall come to the wedding, of course,' Merry Dawlish told her. 'I would not miss it for the

  world. Besides, I can never find enough excuses to stay with Harry and Beatrice!'

  Once back at Camberwell, Olivia found her father immersed in his project of making the house a

  warmer place to stay in winter. He greeted her and Jack kindly, gave his permission for their

  union at once, and promised to return to Abbot Giles to bring Aunt Nan back in time for the

  wedding.

  'I know she will agree it is the best thing for you,' Mr Roade told his daughter. 'You have only to

  look at Beatrice, my dear. Had your sister been a man she might have been a scholar, made her

  mark in some profession or other—but she is as happy as a lark wed to Ravensden, and I am sure

  you will find yourself in much the same situation.'

  Olivia smiled and agreed as she kissed her father's cheek. Each day that passed made her more

  sure that she had been fortunate in her choice of a husband. As they grew more comfortable with

  each other, they had found much to interest them in each other's company, and she had discovered

  that Jack shared many of her pleasures, including reading poetry.

  'It was often a solace to me in Spain,' he told her once when she had been reading to him aloud

  from one of her favourite volumes. 'The beauty of a poet's words can sometimes help a wounded

  soul.'

  There had been a look of such sadness in his eyes at that moment! Olivia had longed to reach out

  and touch his face, to offer her love and understanding, but something made her hold back.

  Whatever Jack's secret was, she must wait patiently for him to share it with her. Such confidences

  must not be rushed.

  They did not know one another well yet; they had met only a few weeks earlier, though to Olivia it

  sometimes seemed that she had known him all her life. Indeed, in some ways he was an open book

  to her. She knew when he found something amusing; their eyes often met in shared appreciation,

  and she knew he liked to tease her—though not as Harry teased Beatrice. Jack was gentler, more

  considerate of her feelings. He was a very sensitive, thoughtful man, and she sensed that he had