Unmask Me If You Can

by Shana Galen

  Richard’s brow creased. “What’s woolgathering?”

  “It means I was allowing my thoughts to wander, not focusing on what I should. And I should have been focusing on you.”

  “Nanny says it’s hard for little boys to focus if they cannot go outside to run until their fidgets are tired.”

  The nanny, who was in another corner of the room, gasped. “Master Richard! Miss Carlisle, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Olivia raised her hand. “No need to apologize, Nanny. You’re quite right. Little boys do need to go outside and run and play.” She looked at Richard again. “And you will be able to again. Very soon. I promise.”

  His expression turned mulish. “You said London had huge, huge parks. When can I go to the park?”

  Olivia gathered him in her arms and set him on her lap. “I know it’s been hard for you. The garden is so small.”

  Richard nodded.

  “You will be able to go out soon.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. I promise.” When Jasper returned and she and Richard were safe from Withernsea. Until then, she couldn’t risk Withernsea finding out about his son. If he did, the duke would stop at nothing to stake a claim on his child. “I have a secret for you,” she said impulsively, wanting to give Richard something to smile about. The transition to life in London had been hard for Richard. He did love his grandfather, little as the man deserved it, and all the toys he’d been given and the chance to learn with books and paper and pen. His favorite part of living in Town had been the plentiful food and the variety of dishes. Her own cooking skills were basic, and there were so many dishes Richard had never tried. Despite all the advantages their new situation offered, life wasn’t quite as Olivia had envisioned. Her mother was still too ill to meet Richard, and the boy must always be quiet to avoid disturbing her sleep. Richard was also inside more than she would have liked. She’d planned to take him for carriage rides, to the museums, and to play in the park.

  And they would do all of that, she promised herself, when Jasper and she married. He might just be marrying her for expediency, but she knew he cared for her. Maybe he would come to love her given time? After what Withernsea had done, she’d never thought she’d want a man to touch her and kiss her and make love to her. Jasper had changed all of that. She wanted him more than anything except Richard’s health and happiness.

  “What’s the secret?” Richard asked.

  She put a finger to her lips and looked pointedly at the nanny, who was busy folding linens on the other side of the room.

  “What’s the secret?” Richard repeated in a stage whisper.

  “I saw Lord Jasper.”

  Richard’s little face lit like a candle. “Jasper!” Her son’s excitement at the mere mention of Jasper made her smile. She was not the only one who had missed him. “Can I see him?”

  “He’s had to go away for a few days. When he returns, we’ll both spend time with him.”

  Dimsdale, the butler, appeared at the door. He was breathing heavily from climbing so many stairs to reach the highest floor of the house.

  “What is it, Dimsdale?” Olivia asked, giving him time to catch his breath.

  “Lord Carlisle wishes to see you, Miss.”

  She looked down at her plate of virtually untouched toast. “I’ve barely had a chance to eat, and I’d planned to listen to Richard read this morning.”

  The butler’s face showed no expression. “His Lordship said he was sorry to interrupt, but this is an urgent matter.”

  Olivia blew out a breath. “Fine.” She tried to rise, but Richard held onto her neck.

  “No, Mama. Don’t go.”

  “I have to, darling, but I’ll be right back.”

  Richard released her, his bright face turning dark with a scowl. “You always say that and then I don’t see you until supper.”

  He was right. Since she’d arrived home, she’d avoided her father as much as possible. It had been easy to stay busy nursing her mother and helping the servants arrange the household matters her mother was no longer able to attend to. Her son clearly needed her more than her mother or any servants today. “Not today. I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

  Richard’s face looked hopeful as she followed Dimsdale out of the room. He led her to her father’s library, which didn’t surprise her as her father often worked here in the mornings. She was taken aback to see that his door was closed. Voices rose and fell from within. “Is my father alone, Dimsdale?”

  “No, Miss Carlisle. He has a caller.”

  Olivia was glad she had allowed her maid to take more time with her hair and dress this morning. She wore a pale blue day dress, and a quick peek in the mirror across from the library reassured her hair remained in place. “Shall I wait?”

  “No, Miss. The caller is here for you as well.”

  Her heart leapt then. She hadn’t thought it possible Jasper could return so quickly, but she’d also learned not to underestimate him. Without waiting for the butler to introduce her, she lifted the latch and entered the library, a bright smile on her face.

  The Duke of Withernsea turned to face her, and from his chair behind the large desk, her father rose and made an apologetic face. Olivia felt her face grow hot, but when she turned to leave, Dimsdale closed the door in her face.

  “I hope you are in no hurry to leave, Olivia,” Withernsea said. He held out a hand, but she moved out of his reach.

  “I have nothing to say to you, Your Grace.”

  “But I have something to say to you. Do sit down.”

  “I prefer to stand.” She was well aware this meant her father and Withernsea would have to stand as well, and that suited her mood. She tossed her father a furious glare. How dare he do this to her! But the viscount avoided her eyes.

  “You were always a contrary creature,” Withernsea said, sitting despite the act being considered ill-mannered. “Your father has been unable to bring you to heel, but I have faith in my own abilities.”

  Olivia bristled. She’d been terrified of Withernsea when she’d been a girl. She was still frightened, but she had more than herself to think of. Her fear for Richard’s safety gave her the strength to stand up to the duke. “I am not a dog to be brought to heel, nor am I under your authority.”

  “Olivia—” Her father began.

  “No.” She held up a hand. “I know we have talked about this, Father, but I cannot marry him.”

  Withernsea sighed. “Are we to start with this again?”

  Lord Carlisle cleared his throat. “Olivia, I know the duke has been less than gentlemanly in the past—”

  “Oh, now, I object,” Withernsea said, looking not the least offended. “Did I want to sample the goods before I bought them? I admit I did, but we were betrothed, and a little sampling before the wedding is not at all uncommon.”

  Cold pierced through her. “Is that what you call it? Sampling? I call it rape.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. You wanted it as much as I did, no matter how much you do not want to admit it in front of your father.”

  “I did not want...what happened to happen! I told you no. I told you to stop.” Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to allow them to fall.

  “Yes, you did. Lord Carlisle, let the record show she certainly made a show of resisting my advances. Happy, Olivia? You acted the part of the good girl.”

  She was so furious she couldn’t speak. Was this what the duke truly thought? That she had been merely acting? She stared at him, and the smirk on his face was all the answer she needed. Yes, it was true that women were not supposed to give in to their baser natures, but the duke had known she had not been leading him on. She’d bitten, scratched, clawed, and hit. He knew he raped her, but now he wanted to paint it as something else. “I did not want you then. You deliberately chose to misunderstand me and to violate me. I do not want you now, and I will not consent to this marriage.” She turned to leave the room. Let the two of them debate how to win her over in the
days to come. By the time they had a plan, Jasper would return.

  She was at the door when Withernsea’s hand closed on her upper arm. She tried to shake him off, but he held on with a bruising grip. He yanked her back to the chairs before her father’s desk.

  “Careful, Your Grace,” her father admonished.

  “Oh, shut up, Carlisle,” Withernsea snapped. “You’re too weak, and she’s been allowed far too much independence. You might not want to take her over your knee and spank her, but I will enjoy doing so.” He thrust her into a chair and towered over her. “I’ll enjoy it very much.” Leaning down, he whispered, “My bare hand on your bare arse until your skin is red and you can’t sit for a week.”

  Olivia flinched back, not liking the flash of desire in Withernsea’s eyes at the thought of hurting her.

  “Your Grace,” her father interjected feebly. “You promised you would treat Olivia with the utmost deference.”

  “Of course.” Withernsea stepped back and bowed graciously. But his expression was telling. Once she was in his power, he’d do whatever he wanted to her.

  “Olivia, I know you have reservations. But we’ve discussed this matter,” her father said. “And I’ve had no choice but to agree to the marriage contract. You will be married tomorrow.”

  “What!” She rose, but at a look from Withernsea sank down again. “No!”

  “Yes. The arrangements have been made.”

  She closed her mouth. She’d run away once, and she could do it again. She’d take Richard tonight and her father would never see her again.

  “And now don’t you think it’s time you shared your secret with His Grace?” her father said.

  She blinked at him, uncomprehending. She didn’t have a secret. Except...

  “No!” she screamed. “No!” She tried to run for the door, but Withernsea caught her and shoved her to the ground. Just then the door opened, and Nanny entered, Richard beside her, his small hand in hers. His eyes were huge as he took in his grandfather’s stricken face, his mother lying on the floor, and the man towering above her.

  Olivia saw it all clearly now. Her father had known she would run, and he wanted to prevent her from doing so. But this betrayal was too much. She would never forgive him.

  Withernsea stared at the boy, his brow furrowed. Olivia pushed to her knees and held her arms open. She might have hidden the truth of who he was longer, but it would have come out at some point. Richard needed her in that moment.

  “Mama!” Richard said and rushed into her embrace.

  “This is your son?” Withernsea said. Then he reached out and touched the boy’s hair, so like his own. “This is our son.” He threw back his head and laughed.

  Olivia held Richard tighter.

  “Who is that, Mama?”

  “No one. Just stay close to me, darling.”

  “Oh, this is too much,” Withernsea chuckled. “This is too perfect. I have a son. And you, little wench, thought to keep him from me.”

  “Mama,” Richard wailed.

  “Come here, boy,” Withernsea said. Richard shook his head. “Don’t you know who I am?” He looked at Olivia. “Doesn’t he know I’m his father?”

  Richard’s gaze locked with Olivia’s. “Is it true?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “He might have been there when you were conceived, but he is not your father.”

  “That’s not what the law says,” Withernsea said.

  “You cannot prove he is yours and since we are not married, you can make no claim on him,” she shot back.

  “That will all change tomorrow. We marry, and I’ll acknowledge him. Anyone can look at him and know he’s mine.”

  “I will not marry you!” she said, immediately regretting the words. She should have played along. She should have pretended to be agreeable.

  “Oh, yes you will.” Withernsea grasped Richard’s arm and pulled. Olivia held on, tugging him back until Richard began to cry.

  “Your Grace! Miss Carlisle! You’re hurting him,” the nanny cried.

  Olivia immediately let go. Richard stumbled into Withernsea’s clutches, and a fear unlike any Olivia had ever felt all but took the breath from her lungs.

  “You will marry me tomorrow,” the duke said. “Or you never see him again.” And lifting the boy, he walked out of the library and then out the front door.

  JASPER’S HORSE HAD thrown a shoe in the worst possible place imaginable. Well, he amended, not the worst imaginable. He’d been in places far worse—places with soldiers holding bayonets rushing at him, places with cannon balls falling from the skies, places with snow falling so fast his feet sank in it to the ankles—and, of course, there’d been the fire.

  The dark road outside Oakham was not the worst place he could remember. But with the horse limping beside him, the rain falling in a cold, wet deluge, and the night so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, Jasper wasn’t inclined to split hairs. He shouldn’t have pushed the horse so hard. He shouldn’t have pushed himself. But now that he had the special license, he wanted to be with Olivia. He didn’t want to wait another day to claim her and marry her.

  With the information Susie had given him about her abuse at the hands of the archbishop, it had been easy to persuade the man to overlook his reservations and issue the license. Jasper had been so elated to have it in his hands, he had ignored the rain, ignored the late hour, and set out anyway. Now, he was stuck.

  Did he walk back to Oakham or did he press on?

  Or did he wait out the rain and the night under a tree, with only the horse for warmth?

  He walked on, pondering his options. The sound of the rain was loud, but it didn’t cover the sharp snap of a twig breaking. Jasper froze. It might have been the horse. It might have been his imagination. But he hadn’t survived as a member of Draven’s suicide troop without trusting his instincts.

  He was not alone.

  Jasper quickly assessed the situation. He had a pistol, but it was useless to him at the moment because if he tried to prime it the powder would get wet. It might be too wet to be of any help already. He had a knife, but how was he to wield it if he couldn’t see a damn thing?

  On the other hand, whoever was out there faced the same obstacles. Jasper turned the horse so the beast was at his back, extracted his knife from his boot, and stood still, listening.

  Nothing.

  Long minutes ticked by, and finally Jasper spoke. “I know you’re out there. Show yourself.”

  No reply. Not a sound. Not even a hint of movement—until it was too late.

  The blow came from the side and knocked Jasper to the ground. The horse reared, and Jasper rolled away to avoid being trampled. The rocks in the road dug into his arms and shoulders, and he got a mouthful of muddy rain water, which he spat out. Before he could gain his feet, the attacker was on top of him. Jasper reached up blindly, searching for the man’s arm. He caught it at the wrist then used his other hand to pry the man’s grip off his throat. The rain made everything slick, which made it possible for Jasper to have a measure of success. He used his hold on the man to throw him off, rolling to the side and wrenching the man’s body at the same time.

  The man went over, his knife clattering on a nearby rock. At least Jasper assumed it was a knife. He couldn’t see it, but it didn’t sound heavy enough to have been a pistol. Now the rain became Jasper’s enemy as he tried to restrain the man, who wriggled out of his hold like a fish. Jasper grabbed for him but caught empty air. Jasper stumbled to his feet and lunged, catching an article of clothing and yanking back. They both fell in a cold puddle, but Jasper was on top this time. He wedged his forearm across the assailant’s neck and used his weight to hold him down. The man’s head was in the water, only his face protruding from the puddle. Jasper released his pressure on the man’s throat briefly, allowing the man to rise and gasp for air.

  “Who sent you? Tell me or I shove you all the way down and let you drown.”

  “No one,” the man gasped.
“I’m a highway robber.”

  Jasper shoved the man down until his face was submerged and he surfaced sputtering for breath. “Liar. Two knife attacks on me in the space of a month?”

  “The attack in Penbury wasn’t me.”

  Fool, Jasper thought. He would have done better to pretend he didn’t know anything of the other attack. “Then who was it? Who ordered it?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Then there’s no point keeping you alive.” He pushed the man’s head into the water and held it a bit longer this time.

  When the man began to flail, he lessened the pressure and hauled him up by the throat. The attacker coughed and sputtered and gasped for air.

  “Last chance. Next time you go down, you don’t come up.”

  “If I tell you, you won’t kill me?”

  “You’ll walk away from this. I give you my word.”

  The man hesitated. “The Duke of Withernsea hired me to follow you, and if you found anything to kill you and bring the girl to him.”

  The revelation wasn’t a surprise, but Jasper still recoiled. He’d been right all along. Withernsea had had him followed and then tried to kill him so his own man could abduct Olivia and bring her back to him. “Miss Carlisle is in London now. Why are you still following me?”

  “The duke doesn’t like loose ends. He wants you dead. He’ll pay twenty pounds to the man who kills you.”

  Twenty pounds. Was that all he was worth?

  “And is twenty pounds worth your life?”

  “No, sir! No!”

  Jasper released him, pushing him back into the puddle and standing. When the man reemerged, Jasper hauled him to his feet. “Get out of here, and don’t let me ever see you again.”

  The man ran away, his feet splashing in puddles as he fled.

  Jasper went back to the skittish horse, calmed him, and began walking again. A few more miles and they’d reach a posting house or perhaps a farmer who could spare a horseshoe. One thing was certain, despite the dark and the rain and the cold, Jasper had to press on. If Withernsea was still sending assailants after him, he must be more determined to possess Olivia than Jasper had imagined.