by Shana Galen
“That I do not know.”
“But you know something else,” Jasper said, recognizing the look on her face.
“Whichever ball it is, Withernsea will also be in attendance.”
Jasper closed his hand tightly. “I need you to find out which ball it is.”
Martin shook his head. “Lydia doesn’t work for you.”
That was her name—Lydia. And for a moment he’d forgotten she was his brother’s wife and a countess. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Oh, but I don’t mind,” she said, voice breathless. “It actually seems rather exciting!”
Martin looked at Jasper as though to say now-look-what-you’ve-done.
“I’ve delayed your dinner long enough,” Jasper said. “I should take my leave.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” the lady said, this time seeming to mean it.
“I’m needed elsewhere, but thank you.”
Outside the town house, Jasper felt hopeful for the first time in days. He had no doubt the Countess of Shrewsbury would discover what he wanted to know. And if Olivia was planning to go out, he would be there to keep her safe from Withernsea, even if she no longer wanted to see him.
Two days later a note from his brother arrived at his rooms. Jasper opened it, but it wasn’t Martin’s handwriting. It was the pretty script of a lady.
Tonight. Lord Forsythe’s ball.
Jasper didn’t have an invitation, but he’d never let that stop him before.
Seventeen
Olivia’s hands shook as she stepped from her father’s coach and into the lamplight of the torches blazing before Lord Forsythe’s town house. A dozen footmen stood before it, assisting guests departing their carriages. She and her father had waited in the line of carriages for a half hour, all the while her nervousness increasing.
She’d hadn’t been to an event like this in years, and the last time she had, it had ended in assault. What would people say when they saw her? Would they cut her? Whisper about her behind their fans? Thank God she would not have to face Withernsea. Just the thought of him made her feel nauseated. She wanted to go home, but she had Richard to think of now. Her father had asked her to go to the ball, and he had been so good to her and Richard. How could she refuse him this small request?
Her father took her arm, and she lifted the hem of her dress, a midnight blue silk with silver embroidery on the hem and bodice. Her father had hired a modiste to come to the house, but since there was not enough time for her to make a gown for Olivia, she had modified another she’d made for a woman who had decided not to buy it. The modiste had said the color was all wrong for that woman, but with Olivia’s dark hair and deep blue eyes, it would suit her perfectly.
She’d been too nervous as she pulled on her white gloves to really see herself in the glass. She supposed she looked well enough. Richard had stared at her when he’d seen her and then began to cry. “Where is my Mama?”
She’d bent down and gathered him into her arms, much to the disapproval of her maid who worried the dress would be wrinkled. “I’m right here, darling. I’m just dressed up.”
He pulled back and touched her elaborate hairstyle and the light dusting of blush she wore. “I don’t like it.”
“Do you want to know a secret?” she whispered. He’d nodded. “I don’t either. I’ll kiss you when I return home. Listen to Nanny while I’m away.”
He’d nodded again, his eyes still wet with tears.
“Are you cold?” her father asked now as he led her to the open door of the Forsythe town house. “You’re shivering.”
“Nervous,” she said.
“Don’t be. Lord Forsythe assured me you would be welcome.”
They entered the vestibule, a semicircle with a high ceiling. Around the edges stood Lord Forsythe, his wife, and their children. Olivia passed through the line, curtsying as was required. Forsythe and his wife were pleasant enough, as were their daughters, who were cool but polite. Forsythe’s sons, however, made her cringe. They looked at her too long, their eyes sliding down her dress until she felt as though she was wearing nothing. She moved quickly after her father and away from the men’s eyes. But all too soon, she was in the ballroom, where the dancing had not yet begun but the gossip surely had. As soon as she was announced, the room quieted. All eyes darted from her to the back of the room.
And there stood the Duke of Withernsea, tall and handsome and powerful as ever.
JASPER’S BREATH CAUGHT when Olivia stepped into the room. He’d turned and looked at the door to the ballroom even before she was announced. It was as though he’d felt her presence.
He stood off to one side, behind a group of people. It had been easy to slip over the wall of the garden then in through an unlocked French door. He’d entered the ballroom without anyone noticing and kept to the shadows. A few men and women had passed him, and those who knew who he was had nodded. Those who didn’t looked quickly away.
No one spoke to him. No one would dare speak to him.
“So that’s who you came to see,” a voice said from beside him.
Jasper started in surprise and turned to see Lord Phineas standing beside him. Jasper blew out a breath. So much for no one daring to speak to him. Phineas was one of The Survivors. They’d called him The Negotiator because he could talk his way into or out of anything.
“Oh, it’s you,” Jasper said, slightly relieved.
“I’m well, thank you for asking. And how are you?”
Jasper scowled at him. “I don’t have time for pleasantries.”
“Oh, good. Then I might as well come right out and ask what the devil you are doing here without an invitation.”
“Why do you think I don’t have an invitation?”
“Besides the fact that you came in through the French doors a quarter hour ago—yes, I saw that—you don’t know Forsythe from Adam. The man practically lives at the House of Lords and that isn’t your usual set.”
“But it’s yours?”
Phineas waved a hand. “We are talking about you and your interest in Miss Carlisle.”
Jasper glanced at her again. She and her father were making their way through the ballroom, stopping to speak to people here and there. Her face was pale and her eyes large. Knowing her as he did, it was obvious she was terrified. And yet, she still looked beautiful. She was small and willowy, but the dress hinted at her womanly curves. The upsweep of her hair highlighted her long, graceful neck, and the chandeliers made her dark hair gleam.
“She’s pretty,” Phineas said.
Jasper shot him an annoyed look. “What do you know about her?”
“Only what everyone else knows. She’s been away for some years and now she’s back. Withernsea says she’s his—”
“Withernsea had better not so much as look at her.”
“Too late for that.” Phineas gestured to the other side of the room where the Duke of Withernsea watched Olivia with as much interest as Jasper had.
“I need to speak to her privately.”
Phineas gave a short laugh. “I don’t see how you’ll manage that. Everyone is watching her. Once the dancing begins, she won’t have a moment alone.”
Phineas had a point. Jasper’s only chance to speak to her would be if he asked her to dance, but the two of them dancing together would hardly be a private affair. But if someone else danced with her...
“I can’t say as I care for the way you’re looking at me right now,” Phineas said.
“I need you to ask her to dance.”
Phineas balked. “I haven’t even been introduced.”
“You can take care of that easily enough. Ask her to dance and then tell her I want to speak to her. She can feign feeling unwell. Lead her to the terrace where I’ll be waiting.”
“I should say no.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t particularly want to make an enemy of Withernsea.”
“But...”
“But I attend far
too many balls and soirees and fetes—to say nothing of the routs. It’s been an age since I had any fun.”
“I’d hardly call this fun.” Jasper waved a dismissive arm in the direction of the ballroom.
“It reminds me of the old days and our missions.”
“Which were not fun.”
“Speak for yourself. I always found them exhilarating. And I already have my dancing shoes on,” he said, referring to the phrase they’d always repeated before missions because they expected to be dancing with the devil by the end of them. And yet here he was, and here was Phineas.
Phineas started away, but Jasper clapped him on the shoulder. “I never said thank you.”
“It’s just a dance, Bounty Hunter.”
“That’s not all I meant and you know it.”
Phineas shrugged his hand off. “I never said thank you either.” He started away. “I don’t intend to start now.”
“I WANT TO GO HOME,” Olivia said for the fourth of fifth time since they’d arrived and seen Withernsea. The dancing would start soon, and she and her father stood on the edge of the dance floor talking quietly. “You promised he wouldn’t be here.”
“I was assured he would not.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke. He was watching Withernsea across the room. Olivia had tried to ignore the duke, but every time she spotted him he was watching her surrounded by men who also watched her then whispered to the duke. She knew they were talking about her. Were they plotting something? Some way to get her alone?
“You were obviously misinformed, Papa.” Why would her father not let them leave? Why did he keep watching the duke? “I cannot stay here.”
He glanced at her briefly. “We just arrived. If we leave so soon we risk insulting our host.”
“Then say I am sick. Say we’ve had an urgent message from home.”
But he ignored her, his gaze on Withernsea. She’d had enough. She would leave without him, if necessary. She turned and almost plowed into Lord Forsythe.
“Miss Carlisle. Lord Carlisle,” Lord Forsythe said, bowing to Olivia and her father. A handsome man she didn’t know stood beside him. “May I present Lord Phineas. Lord Phineas, Miss Carlisle and Viscount Carlisle.”
Lord Phineas made a very pretty bow. He had straight honey-colored hair that was too long for convention but too short to pull into a queue. When he bowed, a section of it fell over his forehead. He rose, brushing his hair back and away from clear green eyes. “A pleasure, Miss Carlisle. My lord.”
Her father made a non-committal sound and shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“Lord Phineas is a younger son of the Duke of Mayne,” Forsythe said.
“That’s not my fault,” Lord Phineas said, making her smile. “And I didn’t beg an introduction to impress you with my titles. I hoped to claim your hand for the first dance, Miss Carlisle. Please tell me you aren’t spoken for.”
“I don’t think so,” her father said at the same time Olivia said, “That would be lovely.”
Lord Phineas looked from her father to her, amusement making those compelling eyes bright. “Shall I leave you to discuss the matter?”
“No,” Olivia said. This was her chance. She’d dance one dance and then her father would be mollified and allow her to leave. “I accept your offer.”
“Then I shall return.” Lord Phineas bowed, his hair sweeping down over his brow again. When he had stepped away, her father gave her a hard look.
“I thought you didn’t care to dance.”
She had said as much in the carriage, but that was before she’d seen Withernsea. Now she welcomed any chance to avoid speaking with him. And by the looks she had noted in the eyes of some of the men, she would have other offers. Her reputation was certainly in question. But she hadn’t taken into account the men in attendance who weren’t looking for a wife. They didn’t care about the scandal associated with her, and she didn’t think it would be long before they circled.
At least Lord Phineas looked at her face, not her chest, when he spoke to her, and he didn’t seem to have an inflated opinion of himself. Truth be told, she didn’t want to dance with any of these men. It had been so long since she’d danced that she feared she’d embarrass herself. But more than that, she had no interest in any of the gentlemen here.
She’d known Jasper wouldn’t be here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t wish for him. She needed him here tonight. He would have kept her safe from Withernsea and the eyes of the men around him. Not that he would ever attend a ball like this. He would not want to step onto the dance floor so everyone could gawk at his mask. She wondered what he was doing now and where.
The night before they’d arrived in London, she’d been almost certain he was in love with her. The way he’d touched her and spoken to her and kissed her had given her hope that he might feel something of what she did.
And then he’d walked out of her life, seemingly without a backward glance. Her heart squeezed painfully every time she thought about it. And that, she reminded herself, was the reason she disliked men. They couldn’t be trusted. They lied and pretended to feel things they didn’t feel. Jasper wasn’t any different than other men except that she’d made her heart vulnerable to him. Thank God her mother and Richard had needed her. She hadn’t had time to mourn the loss of Jasper, and she’d been too tired at night to lie in bed and remember the way his body had felt lying beside hers.
The orchestra finished tuning and the first strains of a quadrille began. Before she could look for him, Lord Phineas was before her, bowing with his gloved hand extended. She took her place with him and the other dancers in the middle of the floor. As they waited for their turn, she whispered, “I hope I remember all the steps. I haven’t danced in years.”
“I’ll talk you through it if you like. I could dance this in my sleep.”
He took her hand then and proceeded to do exactly that until he had to pass her off to another gentleman momentarily. Before long it had all come back to her, and she was smiling and dancing without thinking. She tried not to look for Withernsea, but she could all but feel his eyes on her, making her skin crawl. The half hour passed quickly, and when Lord Phineas led her off the dance floor, she hoped he would take her straight back to her father so she could depart.
“Why don’t we step outside for a bit of air?” he said.
Olivia stiffened. She’d let her guard down too soon. Men were all the same. “No, thank you,” she said clearly. She tried to pull away, but he held her arm firmly.
“I need to speak with you in private.”
“I have absolutely nothing to say to you that can’t be said in full view of the other guests.”
“That may be true,” he said, speaking close to her ear. She tried to shrink away from him. “But Lord Jasper is waiting outside, and I believe he prefers to converse without an audience.”
She stopped walking abruptly. “Lord Jasper?” she whispered, whirling to face Lord Phineas. His hold on her arm loosened, and he nodded. “He’s here?”
“On the terrace. He asked me to dance with you and then take you to see him.”
“How do you know him?”
“We fought together on the Continent. Will you walk with me? I’d rather not attract attention.”
She put her arm through his again and allowed him to promenade her about the side of the dance floor. As they neared the terrace doors, half open she saw now, she stiffened again.
“Miss Carlisle, I promise you have nothing to fear from me,” he said, looking her directly in the eye. “I swear on my grandfather’s grave, and if you know anything about the fourth Duke of Mayne, you know he would haunt me for a thousand years if I ever forswore a vow made in his name.”
She did know something of Lord Phineas’s ancestor. She might not believe in ghosts, but the fourth Duke of Mayne was just formidable enough to overcome the Grim Reaper and do as he pleased.
“Very well.” She allowed Lord Phineas to lead her to the terrace doors and sl
ip outside. He did it so skillfully, she could almost believe no one had noticed. But certainly her father had been watching and would come looking for her in a moment.
“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Carlisle,” Lord Phineas said, “I’ll go delay anyone else hoping to sample the night air.” And with another bow, he was gone.
She turned from the door, scanning the small terrace that overlooked Forsythe’s manicured gardens. No lanterns had ben lit on this side of the house, and it was dark and chilly. Was she supposed to wait for Lord Jasper or—
“Olivia.”
She shivered at the sound of his voice then turned slowly. He stood behind her, his form in shadow and his face covered by the silk mask.
“Why are you here?” she asked, suddenly very angry. He’d known how frightened she’d been to come back. He’d promised to keep her safe and he’d abandoned both her and Richard at the first opportunity. And now he showed up here?
“It was the only way I could think to see you.” He didn’t move from the shadows, and it was almost as though she spoke with a phantom.
“You might have come to the town house. Richard has been asking for you.”
He moved with a quickness she hadn’t expected, reaching for her and pulling her into the darkness with him. Now she shivered for a different reason. “You think I didn’t come to your father’s town house? I came every day. Your father or your butler turned me away.”
She shook her head, glad for his arm on hers. Her legs felt suddenly weak. Why would her father turn Jasper away? Why would he lie to her about it?
“Did they tell you I called at all? Did they tell you I stood outside on the walkway for hours at a time, hoping to see you come or go?”
“No. I don’t understand it. Why would my father lie?”
“I believe I mentioned before that no respectable man wants his daughter associated with me.”
“But...” She didn’t know what to say or what to think. Her head was spinning. She’d been lied to for weeks! Was else was her father lying about?
“I had no way to see you until tonight.” His hands closed on her upper arms, the heat of his ungloved skin warming her. Suddenly she could breathe again. She hadn’t even realized the tension and fear she’d carried these last weeks. It was as though she had been holding her breath and could now finally let it go and inhale again.
