Lady Be Reckless

by Megan Frampton

  Perhaps she thought this was funny as well, but of course her maidenly demeanor and upbringing meant she absolutely must not indicate she did.

  “No, of course not.” He rose, grimacing as his still erect cock brushed against the front of his trousers. Leaning over to pick up his discarded shirt and putting it on, then grabbing his waistcoat and jacket from the floor.

  Was her expression wistful as he put his clothing back on? Or was that just his hope?

  They didn’t speak, and he didn’t trust himself to touch her, so he opened the door for her and gestured for her to go ahead, unable to keep from looking at her back as she walked quickly down the hallway back to the library.

  If this was what they ended up doing after only an hour of being together, what would happen when they were in one another’s company for weeks on end?

  Thank God—or goddamn it—Bennett was arriving tomorrow.

  Chapter 19

  If you don’t trust yourself, get your sister’s advice.

  Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless

  “Again?” Pearl sounded incredulous, and Olivia had to admit her twin had reason to.

  They were in Pearl’s bedroom, having endured a dinner party with their mother dominating the conversation and their father glowering at the food (he was not a good traveler) as Olivia tried not to look at Edward, and it appeared Edward was trying not to look at her.

  Ida and Mr. Beechcroft were the only ones who seemed to have a pleasant dinner.

  The bedrooms, as could be expected, were enormous. Pearl’s was decorated in varying shades of silver and grey, with vases of bright pink roses scattered on nearly every available surface.

  It was far more opulent than their own house, but it managed to remain tasteful, which was a neat trick, Olivia thought.

  Her own room was gold and green, and she wondered if Edward had decided on the rooms, since her coloring matched the room’s shades.

  Or she was thinking too much of herself.

  “Olivia. Again?” Pearl repeated in a firmer tone.

  “Uh . . . yes?” she replied, sounding hesitant. Not at all like herself.

  Then again, nothing about this was like herself. First was the fact that, yes, she had to admit—in the privacy of her own mind—she loved him.

  Damn it.

  And that she did not want to marry Bennett. But what kind of good could she do if she were just Lady Olivia, the most Disgraceful of the Duke’s Daughters? The one who had refused to marry the man she had been chasing in order to marry his best friend?

  And, dear lord, what would that do to Lord Carson? How would he feel if his best friend were to marry the woman he had decided he should, indeed, marry?

  “I think I should leave England and go help people somewhere.” She blurted it out before she could think, but as soon as she thought about it, it made perfect sense.

  “Help people somewhere?” Pearl rolled her eyes. Apparently it didn’t make perfect sense after all. “Are you running away?”

  “Absolutely not!” Olivia replied sharply.

  And then she took a deep breath and spoke again. “Never mind. I am. That is, I’m not. I had a momentary weakness, but I will not.” She heard her voice tremble. “Pearl, what am I to do?”

  Pearl didn’t answer, but instead got up from her chair and sank down on the rug in front of Olivia’s chair, resting her arms on Olivia’s knees. She looked up at her with an expression that managed to convey both compassion and “I told you so.”

  It was a remarkable gift her sister had.

  “You always know what to do. You will figure it out. What does your heart say?”

  “My heart.” Olivia felt her throat get thick. “My heart tells me I love him.”

  Pearl smiled, a warm, loving smile that made her whole face light up. “That is the Olivia I know.”

  “But I was so adamant about marrying Lord Carson! And I don’t even know if Edward would want to marry me.”

  Pearl shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  Olivia blinked. Ask him? Ask him how he felt about her? Ask him if he wanted to marry her?

  Well, it couldn’t go any worse than the last time she had asked someone to marry her. Could it?

  What if it did?

  But what if it didn’t?

  “I will. I’ll ask him.” And if he said yes? Well, then, she would already be engaged, and Lord Carson wouldn’t even have the chance to propose.

  But on the other hand, if he didn’t feel the same way.

  Her heart hurt. Her lungs hurt too from all the agitated breathing she was doing.

  Because Lord Carson was arriving tomorrow, and everyone—possibly including him—was expecting her to want to marry him, not this Other gentleman who wasn’t truly a gentleman.

  And the ways in which he wasn’t a gentleman were so very lovely. She let her mind wander back to that kiss in the office, how she’d felt, quite clearly, the result of it just under her bottom.

  If she were as ladylike as she’d always thought, the idea of all of that should terrify her.

  Instead, it had quite the opposite reaction. She wanted to explore more, she wanted to explore him.

  She wanted.

  “Olivia?” Pearl’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “What are you thinking about? Because you have the most interesting expression right now.” Her sister’s wry tone let her know that she had a strong suspicion of what Olivia was thinking about, and Olivia grinned in reply.

  She would ask him.

  “Mr. Wolcott, the other party has arrived. Lord Carson is in the drawing room, and I have taken the liberty of showing the marquis his rooms. He wanted to rest after the journey—he said he would join everyone for tea.”

  Edward rose from his chair, wishing he weren’t conflicted about Bennett’s arrival. Bennett was his best friend, his only friend, truth be told, and Edward should not have presumed with Lady Olivia.

  Even though she had, in fact, presumed first.

  But it was the gentleman’s responsibility to maintain decorum, and he had absolutely not.

  He would have to ask Bennett if his feelings toward Olivia had changed. If he should push all his own feelings about the lady to the back of his mind, to lock them down and never think of them again.

  It was the right thing to do, even though he dreaded the answer.

  “There you are.” Bennett stepped into the office, the very same room where—but he could not think about that.

  “Your butler told me to wait in that drawing room, but I knew I would find you here.”

  Bennett, damn him, looked as though he’d stepped off the House of Commons floor—perfectly clothed, looking refreshed with no outward signs he had journeyed several hours from London, and traveling a lot faster than the other guests.

  “I was just told you were here. I am sorry I wasn’t at the door to greet you.” Edward sounded awkward and stiff to his own ears, and Bennett raised an eyebrow in reply.

  “At the door to greet me? What nonsense are you talking about?”

  He couldn’t let these questions drift around his mind any longer. He had to know.

  “Why are you here?”

  Bennett didn’t reply right away, but his eyebrow rose even more. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, gesturing for Edward to sit as well.

  “I am here, you blockhead, because your father invited us.” Bennett crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you saying you wish we hadn’t come?”

  “Did you know”—he took a deep breath, knowing he was about to start this conversation and find out for certain—“that the Duke of Marymount’s family is here as well?”

  Bennett’s eyes widened, and Edward felt a sagging relief.

  “No! Oh no, that is not good,” he said, jumping up from his seat and beginning to pace around the small office. “Edward, why would your father not tell us? Unless my father knows—I wouldn’t put it past him to have planned all of this. He is still determined to marry me o
ff to one of the duke’s daughters.” Bennett shook his head, his expression haunted.

  So it was clear that Bennett had no idea she would be here and was clearly horrified at the prospect. He shouldn’t have doubted his friend. But his confusing and admittedly physical relationship with Olivia had made him question everything. Including his best friend.

  “You’re going to have to help me,” Bennett said, sounding desperate. “In such close quarters I won’t be able to maintain a distance from her. You’re going to have to distract her.”

  Edward swallowed the delighted noise he felt bubbling in his chest, merely nodding in reply. “Of course. Whatever I can do.”

  He suspected that Lady Olivia was not quite as determined as she had been to marry Bennett; if she was, then that put their kissing interludes into quite a different light, and he didn’t think she was that person. When she pursued something, she was intent and focused; she wouldn’t just dally with him casually. He knew that. What he didn’t know, what he’d have to discover, was how deep her feelings ran.

  But now, at least, he knew that his best friend was definitely not interested in her in the same way Edward was.

  “Thank you. I know you like her; it’s clear from how you look at one another. You rushed after her during that dinner at the duke’s house. What happened, anyway?”

  He probably shouldn’t tell Bennett precisely what happened; Olivia’s sister was married to Bennett’s brother, and perhaps Bennett would insist that Edward do the right thing and propose.

  “Uh, I just wanted to check on her. Her mother had just profoundly embarrassed her, and she’d already had a recent embarrassment,” he said, nodding toward Bennett to indicate he meant the rejected proposal. “And she is, or was, trying to help me. It felt like the right thing to do.”

  And then there was the kiss, which was also the right thing to do. At the time, at least.

  Bennett clapped a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Of course you reacted that way. Just like you did when anyone was teased in school.”

  Edward nodded, wishing he felt more honorable and less like rushing to her room at that very moment and kissing her senseless. Again.

  “Well, I should go prepare myself for this visit.” Bennett winced as he spoke, and Edward realized just how ridiculous his concerns about his friend’s feelings were. He was beyond muddled.

  “I will do my utmost to prevent a betrothal, or even a suspicion of one. I promise.” For myself as much as for you, Edward thought.

  The good thing about her arrival was that he had momentarily forgotten his concern for his father, and his father’s health.

  That concern was revived as soon as his father’s usual doctor came to see his patient.

  Edward waited impatiently outside of his father’s door as the examination continued for close to an hour.

  What could possibly be taking so long?

  At last, the door opened, and Dr. Martin stepped out, his expression neutral.

  “Well?” Edward said, not able to wait a moment for the man to begin speaking.

  The doctor shifted his bag from one hand to the other, and Edward resisted the urge to grab him by the shoulders so he could shake the information from him.

  “You should go speak to him,” Dr. Martin said slowly. “But it is my belief that the London doctor was incorrect in his diagnosis. Your father is ill, yes, but it isn’t something that will take him from you unexpectedly. He just needs time to rest, a much better diet, and I’ve written a prescription for some medications that will hasten his return to good health.”

  The doctor tipped his hat to Edward, seemingly unaware that with just a few words he had lightened Edward’s heart so much that he wished now he could grab the man by his shoulders so he could kiss him.

  He did not. “Thank you,” Edward called after the doctor, who was already hurrying down the stairs. He tapped on his father’s door, stepping inside without waiting for his father’s call to enter.

  Mr. Beechcroft was lying in his bed, looking as tired as Edward had seen him.

  “Ah, Edward!” Mr. Beechcroft said in a weary voice. “You’ve spoken to the doctor? You’ve heard?”

  Edward came to sit on the edge of his father’s bed, taking his hand. He looked down at it, at the fingers that still managed to look as though they did manual labor, even though it had been years since his father had done anything like that himself.

  “Yes, I spoke to him. It’s something else? Not something life threatening?”

  Mr. Beechcroft grinned, his face lighting up despite his obvious fatigue. “That’s right! Dr. Bell, it seems, was over-hasty in predicting my demise.” He scowled. “But I will have to modify my diet, it seems. Gruel and such.”

  Edward patted his father’s hand. “I don’t think it will be that drastic, Father. Cook will be able to make something that will be good for you and be tasty. And you’re going to have to rest, to hand over more of your day-to-day business to me.”

  Mr. Beechcroft sighed in reluctant acceptance. “I suppose.” He peered at Edward, tightening his grip on his son’s hand. “I still want the same thing, though. Don’t think that just because I’m not going to die right away you can forget about what you promised.”

  Edward raised his eyebrow at his father. Of course the consummate businessman would want him to honor a promise he made in a different situation.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Mr. Beechcroft said in a mock growl. “It is not as though you don’t want it also. I have seen how you regard Lady Olivia.”

  And now that his father was not, in fact, going to die, he wouldn’t be under the same pressure to marry. He’d have to tell Lady Olivia—he wouldn’t want her to continue thinking his father was in ill health—but then she would know he wasn’t under such pressure to marry.

  So if she were even slightly inclined to be interested in him, she wouldn’t have the same incentive. She could just wait until she realized she felt differently.

  “Lady Olivia might still be determined to marry Bennett, Father,” Edward explained. “Although Bennett most definitely does not wish to marry her.”

  Mr. Beechcroft beamed. “So there is no impediment to your marrying her! Go on, my boy, I believe in you.” His father finished his words with a worrisome cough, and Edward released his hand, rising as he did so.

  “You should rest. I will go see to our guests. I know you won’t miss dinner, and I will speak with Cook about the meal.”

  Mr. Beechcroft’s expression revealed just what he thought about all of that. “Ask Lady Ida to come see me in about an hour? We were having the most interesting discussion, and I want to get her opinion on some of the globes I’ve been working on.”

  “Of course.” Edward would not be able to stop his father from working entirely, but he could ensure it was work that wouldn’t tax him too much.

  He walked out of the room, feeling even lighter than when he’d entered. He might not have any idea of what his own future would hold, but at least he would have his father for a bit longer.

  Chapter 20

  I have no idea anymore.

  Lady Olivia’s Particular Guide to Being Reckless

  “Hunting? You’ll be sending dogs after innocent foxes?”

  Olivia directed her question at Edward across the breakfast, who met her gaze with a wry smile.

  Olivia had slept restlessly, her dreams filled with images of him and how he’d looked when she’d stepped away from him. Waking up to hug the idea that she loved him close to her chest, only to feel devastated as she realized she had no idea what to do about it.

  Ask him, Pearl had said. It sounded so simple—and it had been when she’d asked Bennett the same thing—but she had no idea what Edward might say.

  Which was entirely the reason she should ask, she heard an irritated Pearl say in her head.

  “Hunting is one of the nation’s most revered traditions,” the duke said, making all of his daughters stare at him in surprise. It was an entire sente
nce not punctuated with a grunt, after all. “Mr. Wolcott’s skill in judging horses is well-known, and I for one, want to see his expertise firsthand.”

  The duchess didn’t seem to notice that her normally recalcitrant husband had seen fit to utter an entirety of two sentences. “Yes, hunting is one of the things that makes life worth living, after all,” she said, even though she’d never hunted in her life.

  “Like bedsheets and tea?” Ida muttered so that only Olivia could hear.

  Olivia clapped her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh, and caught him looking at her. Again.

  She’d have to talk to him soon; she couldn’t keep wondering what was in his thoughts.

  “What are your objections to the hunt, Lady Olivia?” Edward asked.

  As though he didn’t know. Did he enjoy seeing her get self-righteous? Perhaps he did, though nobody else ever seemed to like it.

  “I find it reprehensible that people will set dogs on a fox that just wants to take care of its family and live its life, all for the sake of sport. It’s not even sporting, honestly. I mean, there is one fox and how many hounds? And how many people on horses adding to the cacophony?”

  “So you would be fine with it if the odds were more even?” Edward asked, still with that smirk on his face. “When we release the hounds, perhaps we could release an equal number of foxes?”

  “That is not what I am saying at all,” she replied, feeling her cheeks start to burn. As they always did when she was encountering injustice. “It’s not fair.”

  There was a moment of silence, or there would have been if the duke hadn’t grunted disapprovingly.

  “I understand what you are saying, Lady Olivia,” Edward said at last, the wry smirk no longer on his face, but something—something warmer.

  Something that made a tiny glimmer of hope kindle inside her. Perhaps this conversation would go a bit better than the last time she’d asked a gentleman what he thought of her.