Counterfeit Earl

by Anne Herries

  pouring down on them as friends and villagers greeted them with laughter and friendly jests.

  Children came to offer small tokens to Olivia, which she accepted with a smile and a kiss for each

  child, and then she and Jack climbed into the carriage, which was to take them back to her sister's

  house.

  Olivia glanced at her new husband, half expecting that he would gather her in his arms to kiss her

  passionately once they were alone, but he made no attempt to do so and she was disappointed by

  his neglect. Surely he must want to kiss her? She longed to be in his arms, longed for the touch of

  his lips against hers. He frowned as he saw the invitation in her eyes, then, almost reluctantly,

  reached for her hand.

  'So, Olivia,' he said. 'Does it please you to be Lady Stanhope?'

  Olivia looked puzzled, then remembered that he was now the Viscount. She was serious as she

  looked at him and saw the oddly brooding expression in his eyes.

  'I would be as happy to be Mrs Denning,' she said. 'I was sorry to learn of your father's death,

  Jack.'

  'Do not be,' he said, his tone harsh, cold. 'It was the best for all concerned.'

  Olivia felt slightly hurt by his tone but concealed it. Something was obviously troubling him, but it

  seemed it was not his father's death. What had caused this strange mood? Olivia knew of nothing

  that could have made him withdraw from her...unless he had begun to regret his promise to marry

  her?

  'Do not look so anxious,' Jack said, as if reading her thoughts. 'We are married now for good or

  ill, and I shall do my best to make your life happy, no matter what.'

  Olivia could not answer him. Her throat ached and her chest felt tight as the disappointment swept

  over her. Had she been wrong to think he loved her? Before that visit to his father's house, he had

  seemed to feel passion towards her. Now he was distant, polite, considerate, but remote. Why had

  he changed towards her? What could she have done to make him look at her like that? It was

  almost as if he were horrified at finding himself bound to her in marriage. Yet perhaps that was

  merely Olivia's imagination playing tricks on her?

  The carriage had drawn up outside Camberwell House, and Jack jumped down, giving her his

  hand to help her down. Olivia smiled at him, concealing her heartbreak. Her pride would not

  allow her to show her hurt, either to him or to her friends.

  Throughout the reception, she kept her smile in place, laughing and chattering to her guests as

  though she was the happiest woman alive—which she would be if only she could rid herself of the

  fear that Jack was regretting their marriage.

  Surely he would have told her if he had decided he could not love her after all? He had spoken of

  love only a few days earlier, now he was behaving almost like a stranger. Had something

  occurred which had made him wish he had not promised to marry her? The thoughts went round

  and round in her head like a spinning-top.

  It was just before she was due to go upstairs and change into her travelling-gown that Lady

  Clements came up to her. She was looking oddly satisfied, her' mouth curved in a smile that was

  wholly false.

  'Such shocking news,' she said, tapping Olivia's arm with her gloves. 'One might have imagined he

  would live for years...but such is the way of life. These accidents happen so suddenly, and then

  everything is changed.'

  'Do you speak of Lord Stanhope?' Olivia asked, feeling puzzled. 'I understood his death had been

  long expected.'

  'No, my dear, of course not,' Lady Clements replied, licking her lips rather like a cat who has just

  devoured the cream. 'It was of Lady Simmons's husband I was speaking. A riding accident, they

  say. He fell from his horse and broke his neck.'

  'Oh, how terrible,' Olivia said at once. 'Anne did promise to be here today if she could, but now I

  understand why she could not manage it. It is very shocking for her.'

  'I dare say she does not care so very much,' Lady Clements replied sourly. 'I dare say she would

  have divorced him long since if her family would have permitted it. She will do better as a

  widow, though I believe I should be right in thinking she regrets that the accident did not set her

  free a few weeks earlier.'

  Olivia felt the colour draining from her face. The tone of Lady Clements's voice left her in no

  doubt of her meaning. Oh, how could she imply such a thing? It really was too bad of her.

  'I know Lady Simmons well enough to be sure that she would never hope for anyone's death,' she

  replied, 'and particularly not the father of her children.'

  'You are very loyal to your friends,' the older woman said. 'Let us hope that your loyalty is not

  misplaced, Lady Stanhope.'

  Olivia did not reply, merely turning away as her sister came up to her. She had not wished to

  invite Lady Clements to the wedding, but Beatrice had said they must, because the family was

  distantly connected to Harry's.

  'Are you ready to go up, dearest?' Beatrice asked.

  'Yes, quite ready,' Olivia said and smiled at her.

  She would not let that woman's poisoned barbs hurt her! Olivia followed her sister from the

  reception room, her progress slowed by the wishes of friends who wished to say goodbye to her.

  Their kindness soothed her frayed nerves, and she had almost managed to dismiss the incident by

  the time she reached her bedchamber.

  Beatrice and one of the maids helped Olivia take off her lovely wedding-gown. She had decided

  on a plain dress of pale green silk for travelling, with a darker green redingote shot through with

  silver thread. She wore a village hat, the brim turned up in front and behind and the crown shaped

  into a little dome with a festoon of ribbons and silk roses round it, which looked very fetching.

  'You look beautiful,' Beatrice assured her. 'Jack must be very proud of his bride.'

  'I am sure he is,' Olivia replied, giving her sister a naughty look. She had decided to ignore all her

  doubts and fears, and she did not intend that Beatrice should guess she was uneasy. 'I am very

  proud of him.'

  'As well you should be,' Beatrice replied. 'Go down to him now, my love. I dare say he is

  impatient to be on his way.'

  'Yes, I dare say he is,' Olivia said and smiled as she kissed her sister's cheek. 'I do not know

  where he plans to take me now, though he has spoken of travelling to Italy.'

  'I should imagine you will spend a little time at his estate first,' Beatrice said, 'so that you can

  become accustomed to your new home, and to each other. You must write to me soon, Olivia, and

  tell me all your news.'

  'Yes, of course I shall,' Olivia said. She resisted the temptation to cling to her sister. Beatrice was

  in a delicate condition; she must not be burdened with Olivia's troubles. Besides, all these foolish

  doubts and fears might be for nothing. 'Take care of yourself, dearest. I shall look forward to

  seeing my niece or nephew when the child is born.'

  They went back downstairs together. There was a flurry of farewells, hugs and kisses from her

  papa and Nan, and a kiss on the cheek from Harry.

  'Take care of her, Stanhope,' he said. 'We shall expect you to visit us at Christmas. Beatrice will

  not be able to travel by then, and I know she will want to see her sister.'

  Jack inclined his head in assent, but his smile and manner of taki
ng leave was formal. He insisted

  on helping Olivia into the carriage himself, but after enquiring if she was quite comfortable,

  leaned back against the velvet squabs on the seat opposite and stared at a point above her head.

  Everything went off well, did you not think so?' Olivia asked after a moment. 'Was the reception to

  your liking, sir?'

  'Yes, of course. Lady Ravensden is an excellent hostess,' Jack replied. 'We could not have asked

  for more.'

  'Your friend Viscount Gransden was very pleasant,' Olivia observed, determined to break down

  this barrier of silence. 'He spoke to me kindly at the reception, and he sent us some very fine

  oriental vases, you know.' She paused, but as he made no comment she went on. 'The Earl of

  Heggan sent a wonderful silver tea and coffee service as well as a set of Sevres tea bowls and a

  complete dinner and dessert service. Beatrice has displayed all the gifts in the long gallery and

  will send them on to us. Is the Viscount a particular friend of yours?'

  'Grandfather gave me the Heggan jewels for you. I will give them to you later,' Jack said, frowning

  slightly as she paused, clearly inviting him to comment. 'As for Leander Gransden, he is a decent

  enough fellow. We have been friends for years, though I had not seen him since I joined the army.

  He is his father's heir and the Marquis would not permit him to come to Spain with me, for fear

  that he should be killed.'

  'You are the heir to the Earl of Heggan's title, are you not?'

  'In my case it was different,' Jack said harshly. 'I do not care for titles, which is as well since they

  are destined to die with me.'

  'Surely not...' Olivia stopped and blushed as she saw Jack's look. His eldest son would be the heir

  to both the Stanhope and Heggan titles—unless, of course, he meant to renounce them. Would he

  do that? Olivia wondered. It would make no difference to her. She cared little whether she was

  known as my lady or madam.

  'Do not be anxious,' Jack said. 'We shall talk about these things later, Olivia. We have plenty of

  time ahead of us.'

  But she wanted to talk! She wanted to know what had brought that bleak expression back to his

  eyes.

  'Where are we going?' she asked, since he was clearly unwilling to make conversation himself.

  'To my estate at Briarwood for the moment,' Jack replied. 'Circumstances have changed, Olivia. I

  had made plans for the future, but now I must think. I crave your forbearance. Forgive me if I seem

  preoccupied. You must and shall know all, but I need a little time to decide what to do for the

  best.'

  Olivia bit back the questions that were ready to tumble off her tongue. It was very clear to her that

  Jack was deeply troubled in his mind, but for the moment he was not prepared to share his

  thoughts with her.

  'Yes, of course,' she replied. She dare not look at him as she added, 'I heard from Lady Clements

  that Anne Simmons is now a widow.'

  'That woman is a spiteful witch,' Jack said and scowled. 'You should ignore her, Olivia. You have

  nothing to fear. Our marriage may have been hasty, but I hope nothing I do in the future will cause

  you unnecessary grief. You may look forward to all the respect and attention Lady Stanhope is

  entitled to expect from me.'

  His declaration should have reassured her, but it was so formal. He had hardly touched her,

  except to hold her arm or her hand for a brief moment. She had expected something very different

  from the man who had kissed her so passionately at the Regent's ball.

  His odd manner sent a chill down her spine. Surely he would not speak so if he were the eager

  bridegroom she had expected? What had happened to make him withdraw? Had she been mistaken

  in his feelings towards her? Or was it only now that Lady Simmons was free that he had begun to

  regret his promise to Olivia?

  It was late before they reached the inn where they were to stay for the night. Olivia was too tired

  to feel hungry and ate only a few mouthfuls of the supper brought to the parlour Jack had hired for

  them.

  'You are exhausted,' Jack said, and for a moment the barrier was down and she saw something in

  his eyes that made her heart beat faster. 'I shall escort you to your room, Olivia.'

  'My room?' she asked. Her eyes were dark with hurt as she gazed up into his face, searching for a

  sign that he truly cared for her. 'Will you not join me, Jack?'

  'Not this night,' he told her, his own eyes seeming to be looking somewhere far beyond her. 'We

  married in haste, Olivia. You should more fairly have been courted for months before we became

  engaged. I am in no hurry to claim a husband's rights. It is better that we get to know one another

  for a while.'

  Olivia felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. She must seem like a wanton hussy to him,

  begging for his attentions! Yet his kisses had given her the impression that he was impatient to

  make her his own, and she could not understand why he no longer wanted her—unless he was in

  love with Anne Simmons.

  It seemed the most likely explanation. Olivia blinked to hold back the stupid tears, which

  threatened to fall and shame her. She refused to cry or to show her hurt!

  Her head went up as pride came to her rescue and she felt a flicker of anger. If he had wanted to

  marry Anne, he should have told her the truth, he should have been honest with her. She would

  have released him from his promise, of course she would. Yet at the start he had believed Anne

  would never be free to marry him, and perhaps he had thought it too cruel to jilt Olivia at the last

  moment.

  Surely this was even crueller. To be married to a man she adored who did not love her was hardly

  bearable!

  At the door of the inn's best bedchamber, she turned to him; her bearing was proud and dignified

  as she looked into his face and saw that closed expression once more shutting her out.

  'Then I shall wish you goodnight, sir,' she said. 'I hope your dreams will be pleasant ones.'

  'I have little expectation of it,' Jack said, a rueful smile in his eyes. He reached out and took her

  hand, raising it to kiss it. 'Forgive me, Olivia. I beg you, do not hate me just yet. You may hate me

  when I tell you what I must, but I pray you will find it in your heart to forgive me one day.'

  'Jack, what is it?' she asked, suddenly sensing the anguish he had been fighting all day. 'Please—

  will you not tell me?'

  'In time,' he said. 'In truth, I do not know my own mind as yet, Olivia. I am lost, wandering in a

  maze from which I fear there is no escape. I would extricate myself arid come to you, sweet,

  lovely Olivia, but it might bring terrible harm to you. That is the one thing I am determined shall

  never be, though it cuts the heart from me to hurt you, as I must.'

  Olivia stared as he turned and walked away from her. There was much more here than she had

  guessed. Perhaps his changed manner was due not to Lady Simmons's bereavement but to

  something else entirely?

  She kept her tears at bay as she went into the bedchamber and allowed her maid to undress her,

  then dismissed her, ignoring the girl's simpering smiles. No doubt Rosie imagined she was about

  to fall into the arms of her eager husband instead of retiring to a lonely bed.

  Olivia lay awake for some time pondering the mystery of Jack's odd behaviour, but she could not


  even begin to understand what lay behind those cryptic words.

  If he truly loved her, as his last words surely implied, then why was he holding back? Why did he

  not come to her and claim her as his own?

  'Here we are then, Briarwood House,' Jack said as he helped Olivia from the carriage. 'I am sorry

  you are seeing your new home for the first time on a wet day, Olivia. It is not the most handsome

  of residences, though stoutly built and comfortable. Sir Joshua was a country gentleman, not given

  to fancy ways. However, now that you are mistress here, you may wish to make changes. Please

  be assured that I shall leave all such matters in your hands. You may spend what you wish, employ

  the services of any craftsman you think fit.'

  Despite his careless words, it was a fine house with many windows. The walls were built of grey

  stone and covered with creeping ivy, which softened and beautified its austerity.

  'I hope you will be happy here.'

  Olivia nodded and smiled but gave him no reply. The last stage of their journey here had been

  very much easier. Jack had made some effort to converse normally after that first evening, when he

  had left her at the door of her bedchamber. He had even complimented her on her appearance, and

  teased her a little about a particularly pretty bonnet. He was polite, considerate, attentive, but

  distant. They might have been mere acquaintances instead of bride and groom.

  'Ah, here are Jenkins and Mrs Jenkins to greet you, Olivia.' He turned to the elderly couple who

  had brought the servants into the front hall to greet them. 'May I present Lady Stanhope. Mrs

  Jenkins, my wife is tired from the journey. Please show her the apartments you have prepared for

  her comfort.'

  'Yes, my lord.' The housekeeper curtsied to him and then to Olivia. 'May I say that you are very

  welcome here, milady. We are all very pleased to see you at Briarwood.'

  Olivia thanked her and asked to meet the maids and footmen who were lined up to greet her. She

  smiled at each one in turn, repeating their names so that she would remember them, then she

  followed Mrs Jenkins up the stairs and along the hall.

  Despite what Jack had said about the house not being grand, Olivia saw that it was quite