by Cora Lee
Grayson attempted another nod, but looked as if he was going to be sick and couldn’t manage it.
“You will not go within three miles of her, her home, her dog, or anyone she interacts with.” Rhuddlan removed his boot from Grayson’s groin, and bent low over him. “And if I find out you even thought about her, I’ll hunt you down and finish what I started here.”
Rhuddlan reached out and patted his adversary’s cheek, chuckling when the man flinched.
He straightened, smoothing out his wrinkled coat and waistcoat as he walked away. For a brief moment, he truly had wanted to kill George Grayson. The man was no better than excrement clinging to the bottom of Rhuddlan’s boot, the way he terrorized people who had no recourse against him.
But a violent death would only bring trouble for Teverton, and likely for Olivia, too, once the victim was identified. Rhuddlan didn’t want to be responsible for bringing that upon them, nor for adding another death to the tally his conscience already agonized over. Besides, there were other ways to punish a man who valued money and status above all else.
He trudged slowly through the meadow, lifting his face to the bright sun that shone down on him. There could not be light without darkness, and Olivia was surely the light of his life.
He was certainly the darkness in hers.
By the time he reached the house his body had calmed somewhat, but his mind was still churning. He went straight to his chamber to clean up, having found some of Grayson’s blood splattered on his sleeves, and to scribble down a few notes regarding further action he wished to take against the worm.
When he was presentable once again, he went looking for Olivia. He found her in the stable, arms around her knees in the back of an empty stall with Artie lying against her. Her body visibly shook, but she was quiet and her eyes were dry.
“Olivia?”
Her lids lifted and her eyes met his. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Not yet, anyway. It was still possible for Grayson to die of his injuries, particularly if he couldn’t get himself out of that meadow.
She nodded, resting her chin on her knees, but didn’t speak.
Rhuddlan took a few steps into the stall and crouched down. “Did you want him to be?”
“Yes,” she said fiercely. Then, “No. I don’t know.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Rhuddlan said with as much gentleness as he could muster. “But you will never have to worry about him again. You, your neighbors, Artie...you’re safe again.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain.”
She held his gaze for several moments, then sniffled and buried her face in her arms. Rhuddlan strode over to her and sat beside her. He didn’t speak or touch her. He only wanted her to know that he was there should she need him.
After a moment, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. I wish it hadn’t come to this, but I’m glad you were here when it did.”
He rested his head against hers. “I promised you I’d keep you safe.”
“You’ve done that better than my own family.”
“Did things go badly with Teverton?” Rhuddlan felt his hands curling into fists.
She shook her head, tickling his cheek with her hair. “No, he was fair and rather compassionate.”
And old wound then. His hands were aching from their repeated blows against Grayson’s skull, and his heart joined them.
“My mother,” she said in a near whisper. “I know it was years ago, but it still hurts.”
“I know.” He thought of Nick, of their former closeness, and of what their relationship had become. “Your family are supposed to be the people you trust the most, but too often they’re the ones who hurt you the most instead.”
“Too bad we can’t choose our family,” she said with a wistful note in her voice.
He started to agree—it would have been an enormous relief to be able to choose his heir, after all—then stopped. “We can, to an extent.”
She sat up to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He hoped the disappointment at the loss of her touch didn’t show on his face. “You are the perfect example—you’ve got Mrs. Davies and Miss Hatch.”
“My surrogate mothers,” she smiled. “Especially Mrs. D. She took me as her own the day I took up residence in the cottage next door to hers. I wouldn’t have Artie if not for her and her husband.”
He couldn’t help but return her smile. “As I said.”
“What about you?” she asked, settling against him again, with her head on his shoulder. “Who is your chosen family?”
You. The word came unbidden to his mind, but he refrained from saying it aloud. Was it really true? Or did he simply wish it to be? “I suppose I don’t really have any.”
She touched her forehead to the crook of his neck in a gesture that felt awfully similar to being nuzzled. “No one?” she asked softly. “Everyone should have at least one person in this world they can trust.”
He set his arm about her, letting his hand come to rest on her shoulder. “Yes, they should.”
~~~
Olivia elected to remain in her chamber for the rest of the day with the exception of Artie’s walks, and she took either Mrs. D. or Miss H. with her then, staying close to the house. She just couldn’t bring herself to smile and answer the multitude of questions she knew they would all have as if they were gossiping about who danced with whom at last night’s ball. If Rhuddlan had come upon her only a minute later, she and Artie might well have been dead.
The next morning, though, she forced herself to walk down to the dining room for breakfast. She had lived on her own for years, had survived her father’s death and her mother’s betrayal. She could certainly survive breakfast with her family and closest friends.
To her great relief, no one made a fuss when she entered the dining room. Mrs. D. and Miss H. were already at the table with Lord Teverton, and Rhuddlan was perusing the variety of dishes on the sideboard. Lord Teverton’s wife and mother were not present—another relief.
She smiled at Rhuddlan, feeling suddenly shy as she approached the sideboard.
He gave her a small smile in return. “How do you feel this morning?” he asked in a near whisper.
“I have had better days,” she answered quietly, “but I’ll do.”
“Good.”
She’d hoped he would touch her, even just fingertips on her shoulder, but he didn’t. And he was right not to, she reminded herself. There were rules to follow in polite company, and breaking them could lead to some very unpleasant consequences.
Olivia added some eggs to her plate and a triangle of toast, then found a place at the table, making sure to meet everyone’s gaze at least once before she began eating.
She’d just mentally congratulated herself for making a good start when Rhuddlan said between bites, “I think it best if I return to Rhuddlan Hall as soon as possible, Teverton. Your hospitality has been wonderful, but I have business to attend to at home before I return to London.”
Teverton undoubtedly answered, but Olivia didn’t hear it. Rhuddlan was going back? What did that mean for her? For them?
“Miss Sto– Miss Lockwood, if you’d like to return at this time I would be happy to escort you and your companions.”
She stared at Rhuddlan for a moment before his words registered, opening her mouth to speak but having no idea how to answer him.
Lord Teverton took the opportunity to interject. “You and I can conclude our business after breakfast, Cousin.”
With both her finances and physical safety secured, there would be nothing keeping her at Teverton Estate. She could return to her home, her customers, her neighbors... If she even had a home. She’d signed Rhuddlan’s documents under a false name, and Michaelmas—the next quarter day, when rent would be due—was fast approaching.
“Thank you, my lord. I believe that’s a good idea.” She turned to Rhuddlan, seated across the table and one place to the left of her. “Might you ha
ve a moment for me this afternoon, Your Grace?”
He looked slightly startled, but nodded. “Certainly.”
Excellent. She could get her affairs in order, then decide what to do with herself. Mrs. D. and Miss H. could travel home with Rhuddlan either way, and return to their own lives. Even without having made the decision yet, merely having a plan gave Olivia’s confidence a boost.
Lord Teverton waited until she’d finished eating then walked with her to his study, where they sat in the same places they’d occupied only two days ago.
No sooner than he sat down, did Lord Teverton pop back up and fetch something from his desk. “I wish I could offer you more,” he said, holding out a piece of paper to her when he returned to his seat. “But you are such a distant relation...”
“Nor am I the daughter of anyone important,” she concluded for him.
“Your father was a gentleman, and that makes you a lady,” he responded. “But no, he was not of the ton, if that’s what you mean.”
Olivia unfolded the paper and saw a sum printed there that would defray the cost of all her needs except the rent for her cottage. And if her few remaining customers decided to continue patronizing her, she might even be able to begin hosting Mrs. D. and Miss H for dinner.
“This is more than generous, my lord,” she said after being silent for too long. “Truthfully, I was not expecting such a number.” Then she hurried to add, “I didn’t know what to expect from you, to be completely honest.”
“I didn’t know what to expect from you, either, when I received your letter,” he said, resting his hand on the arm of his chair. “As you know, my wife was convinced you were trying to swindle me by falsely claiming to be a cousin. But I can see your father in you when you speak, and particularly when you talk to that dog of yours. As soon as you admitted your real name, I knew you were Arthur’s daughter.”
Olivia smiled at that. She and her father hadn’t had much in common when he was alive, or so she had believed. Maybe they had been more alike than she realized. “Did you know him well?”
“We were not close, but I did see him once or twice a year when he went to Town for the Season with you and your mother.” Lord Teverton broke into a grin. “He had an old hound that he took with him everywhere, much to your mother’s dismay.”
“Rex!” she exclaimed. “I remember him—on the occasions Papa did leave him at home, it took two footmen to hold him back, and he’d make such a fuss trying to follow Papa out the door.”
“Like father, like daughter,” Lord Teverton said, giving her a there-you-have-it gesture with one hand.
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, her smile gentling. “Not just for the financial assistance, but for reserving your judgment of me. And for the memory of Papa and Rex—I hadn’t thought of them together for many years now.”
“Happy to be of service,” he said with a smile, rising from his seat. “My steward is preparing your first installment now, so you may take it with you. Will you promise to write to me on occasion, and let me know how you and Artie fare?”
“I promise.”
He took her hand and bowed over it, as if she were still a proper lady. “Then I will bid you farewell, Miss Lockwood.”
She offered him a rather unpracticed curtsy and bid him farewell in return, practically running up the staircase to Mrs. D. and Miss H. in their chamber.
“At least one thing has gone right,” she told them, as Mrs. D. opened the door and waved her inside. “I have been acknowledged by my cousin as part of the family, and he has settled an allowance on me large enough to meet my needs.”
Mrs. D. sighed heavily and put her arms about Olivia. “Thank heavens for that!”
“Wonderful,” Miss Hatch said, releasing a sigh of her own from her place on the settee by the window. “That will be a weight off your shoulders.”
“And yours,” Olivia smiled, glancing from one pair of shining eyes to the other. “The two of you will no longer need to worry about me making ends meet.”
“You will still join us for dinner some nights, won’t you?” Mrs. D. asked, releasing her hold on Olivia.
Miss H. added, “That is, if you’re going to return with us to Wales.”
A weighty weariness settled over Olivia like a wet blanket. “I want nothing more than to sleep in my own bed again.”
“Then you’d better speak to His Grace,” Mrs. D. said with a frown.
“Do you still think he’s evil?” Olivia teased.
But Mrs. D. didn’t take the bait. “He has helped you, and for that I will always be grateful. But yes, I still think he is a bad man.”
He’d confessed to being such when he’d proposed, wanting her to know who she would be shackling herself to if she accepted. She thought he might have been exaggerating slightly, playing to his dark reputation in an effort to balance out the wealth and power he offered her.
Olivia shook her head. “After we return home again, I suppose it matters not if he’s an immoral brute. He will go back to being the distant landlord he was before.”
Miss H. was nodding, but Mrs. D. looked unconvinced.
“Then you should go tell him you want to return with us,” Mrs. D. finally said. “And we’ll be home that much faster.”
Olivia allowed herself to be turned and walked out the door with a laugh, then set about finding Rhuddlan and making arrangements to travel back to Wales. She found him, not in his chamber where she expected him to be, but in the coach-house inside their borrowed—or perhaps traded—carriage.
“What are you doing in there?” she asked with a laugh. He was down on all fours on the floor of the carriage, one booted foot hanging out the door.
“Olivia?” He got to his feet and climbed out, his black hair slightly mussed. “Did you conclude your business with Teverton?”
“Yes.”
“Judging by the smile on your face, the outcome was satisfactory,” he said, offering her a little smile of his own.
“It was. And I thank you for bringing me here.” She stepped closer to him, reaching tentatively for his hand. “You and his lordship have given me my life back.”
He clasped her hand and brought it to his chest. “That’s what I was hoping for. Does that mean you’ll be returning to Wales with me?”
She followed her hand closer to Rhuddlan. “Yes. I’m ready to go home.”
“Excellent.” He kissed her hand, and led her to the open carriage door. “I want to show you something before we depart. Don’t tell Mrs. Davies and Miss Hatch—I think it would unsettle them to know there’s a weapon beneath their feet.”
“What?”
He leaned in and slid his fingers inside a slit in the carpet. “There’s a small dagger hidden here. It’s just a precaution. I very much doubt you’ll need it, but I feel more comfortable knowing it’s here.”
“You think Sir George…?”
Rhuddlan shook his head. “You are free of him. I promise you that.”
Mrs. D.’s words impugning his character came back to her and she frowned. “What did you do to him?”
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, his brows raised.
She didn’t really want to know, but she needed to. “Yes.”
“I beat him senseless,” Rhuddlan said slowly. “And that’s not a figure of speech. He was bloody and broken and terrified, and I left him there in that meadow.”
“Could he have died there?” The words nearly wouldn’t come, but she had to know.
“Teverton sent men to look for him, but he was nowhere to be found.”
She released a breath she’d unconsciously held and nodded, not knowing what else to say. Rhuddlan had nearly beaten a man to death...for her.
And now he was showing her the dagger he’d hidden in the carriage.
“If he lives he may come for me again,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Rhuddlan shook his head. “Grayson is a gambler, and a bad one. I sent instructions to Lewis to buy up G
rayson’s outstanding debts from whomever holds them. By the time we return to Wales, I will be his sole creditor. If he recovers from the beating I gave him, I’ll call in his debts and reduce him to utter poverty.”
She turned their clasped hands over and studied his—the knuckles red and swollen, a scar across the back. What did she do now with the information he’d given her?
She nodded, more to herself than to Rhuddlan, and met his eyes. “Thank you for telling me.” She took another breath, then blew it out. “So if the dagger isn’t for protection against Sir George, it’s for protection against your brother.”
“I don’t think he’ll harm you,” Rhuddlan said, squeezing her hand. “It’s me he wants. But I thought it prudent to be prepared, just in case.” He released her hand and pulled the gold signet ring from his finger, holding it up for her to see. “I’m putting this in there, as well. If something happens to me, take this ring back to Rhuddlan Hall and let Lewis know.”
She watched as he slid the ring under the carriage carpet beside the dagger, nodding once again without words. The very last thing she ever wanted to do was return to Rhuddlan Hall without its master.
They parted then, Rhuddlan wanting to check on the horses while Olivia returned to the house to pack her things. A few hours later, they were seated side by side in the carriage studiously not looking at each other for more than a few moments at a time. Mrs. D. and Miss H. exchanged a few glances of their own, and Olivia knew they were trying to figure out what was different. But whatever Olivia felt for Rhuddlan was something she had to discern for herself.
She laid her head back against the squabs and closed her eyes, ignoring the brass buttons in her lap that she was supposed to be sewing to a tailcoat for a customer, trying to clear her mind of everything but the sway of the carriage and the clip-clop of the horses’ shoes on the road. It worked for a time, until the carriage came to a halt.
“Stand and deliver, Luca!”
Olivia sat up and looked at Rhuddlan. “Luca?”
He nodded, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Stay here.”
