by Cora Lee
“I’ll think about it,” he replied without enthusiasm. “In the meantime, do you know any newspaper reporters who would like some interesting information about Cumberland?”
Rhuddlan and Sussex spent the rest of the afternoon together, trying to come up with a counter for Cumberland’s new offensive. By the time they quit for the day, dinner had come and gone and Rhuddlan was exhausted.
Nevertheless, he was looking forward to the evening’s entertainment and found himself smiling again when he entered the drawing room. Olivia was back to wearing her own clothing, worn and created without the least nod to what was fashionable, but she looked lovely sitting on his ornate sofa with a pool of cloth in her lap.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat beside her.
“We finished dinner an hour ago,” she said with a small smile. “But I’ve had plenty to keep me busy.”
“I’m sorry.” He propped an arm up on the back of the sofa. “Sussex and I were trying to plan our next move, and time got away from me.”
She put down the item she was sewing and reached her arm along the back of the sofa as well, touching her fingers to his. “Did you come up with something?”
“Possibly, but I’m not sure if it will work.” He sighed heavily. “Sussex thinks I should take another wife. Someone of impeccable character and birth.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause before she spoke again, in a quieter voice. “Are you going to?”
He slid closer to her, taking her hand in his. “I’d rather not. At least, not for that reason. I will eventually need to wed again, for I need an heir that is not my brother. But I don’t want Nick and Cumberland to dictate who it is I take to wife.”
“Of course not.”
He wanted to ask her if she’d considered marriage again, after the disaster that was her first fiancé. But he already knew the answer would be a resounding no—she’d been ruined socially and financially, then began living under an assumed name. The only time she’d likely considered matrimony was when George Grayson tried to blackmail her into it, and when Rhuddlan himself had proposed marriage.
Instead he sighed again. “Would you mind terribly if we didn’t play cards tonight?”
The disappointment on her face was as clear as the newspapers he’d been reading, but she nodded. “I don’t mind.”
“I was hoping that we might just sit and talk...and hold each other.”
Her eyes shifted from their clasped hands to his face. “Is that truly what you want to do?”
“Yes,” he said, reaching for her. “I just want to relax and think about something happier than my brother’s hatred for me.”
She set her sewing aside and came into his arms, caressing his cheek, running a finger gently across his wounds. “That’s fair. I don’t particularly want to sit here with my thoughts, either.”
“What were you thinking about?”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “How, if my mother hadn’t been so selfish eight years ago, I wouldn’t have been in a position for Sir George to terrorize me the way he did.”
“You would have been a countess by now,” Rhuddlan said, surprised by the fact as he said the words. “Windermere stuck his spoon in the wall a couple of years ago.”
“A countess,” she repeated softly, palming his chest. “How different that would have been.”
He kissed her hair, aching for the life she’d been cheated out of. Perhaps she never loved Old Windy’s heir, but he was a good fellow. And he’d have treated her a damn sight better than the life she ended up with.
“You and I would not be cuddling in your drawing room,” she continued, planting a kiss on his lapel. “So at least one good thing has come of all the awfulness.”
“But is this worth all the pain you’ve endured?” he asked. He probably knew the answer to his question, but he couldn’t help asking it.
“Objectively? No. There’s no way a few stolen moments of tenderness could compare to months of fear.” She sat up, her blue eyes squarely meeting his gaze. “But being here in your arms I feel… I feel content. And I haven’t had contentment in my life for too many years.”
He bent his head and kissed her gently. “I’m glad I can give you that.”
Rhuddlan wanted to give her so much more than mere contentment, but knew the likelihood of doing it was even lower now than it had been before, thanks to Nick and Cumberland’s quest to prove him unfit.
He pushed the thought away, vowing to only think about the woman in his arms for the rest of the night.
Chapter Ten
A week went by where every day had the same pattern: Olivia rose with the sun, worked on sewing for her customers, took breakfast with the rest of Rhuddlan’s household, walked Artie, then brought out a special project she’d begun upon her return to Rhuddlan Hall. Evenings consisted mostly of dinner with Mrs. D. and Miss H. and an hour alone with Rhuddlan after he and the Duke of Sussex had finished for the day.
On the eighth morning, the pattern changed.
“Will you go for a drive with me this afternoon?” Rhuddlan asked over breakfast.
Olivia crunched a triangle of toast and nodded. “Where will we go?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a tiny smile. “I thought we’d take the curricle out, just the two of us.”
They were the only two in the morning room at present—even the footmen serving had been dismissed—so Olivia let herself return his smile. “That sounds lovely.”
And best of all, driving out together in an open vehicle like a curricle wouldn’t be seen as inappropriate or compromising, if anyone was even around to see or care. She took another bite of her toast. Not that she worried for her own reputation anymore, but given the promises Rhuddlan had already made, he would likely insist on marrying her if he felt he’d compromised her. With her reputation in tatters and a horde of creditors itching to find her, she’d be the least appropriate woman to become a duchess since the Duke of Devonshire married his mistress. Rhuddlan already had enough trouble to deal with without piling more on him.
“Shall we say, two o’clock?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes,” she answered. “That will give me time to finish taking in Mrs. Nesbitt’s gown before we go, and I won’t be worrying about it while we’re out.”
“Excellent. I want to have your undivided attention today.”
They met in the stable at the appointed hour, where Rhuddlan was harnessing the horses himself. When he’d buckled the last buckle, he climbed up to the seat and offered her his hand. He was wearing gloves as a gentleman should, but Olivia hadn’t had a pair of gloves for anything other than church since her mother’s death, and she wished he had forgone his as well. Not because she felt inadequate—though she did—but because she’d become used to a degree of casual skin-to-skin contact with Rhuddlan and today they wouldn’t have that. It was a small thing, but she found that she was rather disappointed by the prospect.
The drive was pretty, though, and Rhuddlan seemed happy to chat with her about inconsequential things—a relief after the both of them nearly being killed. He became quiet, though, as they turned onto a long drive.
“Have we arrived?” she asked.
“Mmhmm. See that little house there?” He pointed to a beautiful three-story house built of what looked like white limestone, with multiple chimneys bristling across the slate roof.
“It’s beautiful,” she sighed.
“It’s yours.”
Her eyes snapped away from the house and focused on the man beside her. “What?”
“This is the property I told you about, the one I want to give you in place of your cottage.”
Her gaze swiveled back to the house, taking in the large windows that adorned the ground floor, the hedgerow that circled around toward the back of the dwelling, the large, manicured lawn that spread wide in all directions.
“Rhuddlan,
it’s too much. What would I do with so large a house?”
“Whatever you like,” he said with a chuckle. “I wanted you to see it first, to be sure it would suit you. But I intend to sign the deed over to you with no restrictions, so you could live here, sell the place, turn it into a school…”
She linked her arm carefully with his while he brought the curricle to a halt. “You’re very generous.”
“You already agreed to let me see you settled properly, don’t forget,” he said with a smile. “Shall we take a look inside?”
He jumped down, securing the reigns to a low-hanging tree branch, then reaching up to help Olivia down. The curricle was taller than the carriages she was used to, and she had to put her hands on his shoulders while he held her by the waist. She landed practically in his arms, close enough to detect the lingering scent of his shaving soap.
They stood together for several moments, and for a fraction of a second Olivia thought he might kiss her. But he looked away, offering his arm instead and escorting her into the house.
“It has five bedrooms, plus a suite for the mistress of the house, a stillroom, a study, and all the usual reception rooms.” He pointed out features he thought she’d like and explained the history of the furnishings as they toured the house. “Of course, if you’d like to redecorate, that is entirely your prerogative.”
“Redecorate?” She had her allowance from Lord Teverton, and income from a few loyal customers. Perhaps she could purchase new items over time, but not if she or Artie became ill and needed to pay for a physician, or if her remaining customers took their custom elsewhere.
She didn’t say that aloud, though. Rhuddlan’s enthusiasm for the house and Olivia in it was bubbling over—she could see it in his sparkling green eyes, the smile that hovered on his lips—and she didn’t want to dampen his mood.
“Or not,” he replied, still smiling. “As you choose. Mr. and Mrs. Andersen can help you, as well.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Andersen?”
“Servants,” he clarified. “Mrs. Andersen cooks and cleans, and Mr. Andersen handles everything else.
“Oh.”
He pulled her to a gentle halt in one of the bedchambers. “Part of the property is a small farm that has been leased to a local man,” he said, taking her hand. “With the rent from the farm, you’ll be able to pay the Andersens’ wages, take care of any repairs the property might need, and still have a little left over.”
The relief must have shown on her face because he took her other hand and gave it a squeeze. “I said I wanted to see you settled, didn’t I? That meant making sure the property would make your life better, not burden you with more problems. I’m sure there is something I forgot or got wrong, but you need only tell me what and I’ll take care of it.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. His generosity was wonderful, of course, but she was particularly touched by his mindfulness of her situation. He could have easily given her a home that required an income well above what she actually possessed and not even noticed the strain it would place on her and her finances.
“Thank you, Rhuddlan. Artie and I both thank you very much.”
They ended their tour in the study and Olivia was stuck by the difference between it and the rest of the house. The study walls were paneled in dark wood, carved with simple but elegant designs, a heavy mantle mounted over the fireplace, and what appeared to be a medieval shield with a stylized dragon at the center.
“Who lived here last?” she asked, running a finger along the edge of the desk set at one end of the room.
“My brother,” he said softly. Her eyebrows shot up and he smiled, clarifying, “My older brother. He purchased this property as a sort of retreat, a place he could go when the world got to be too much. He could still ride into the village for a pint at the tavern if he wanted company, and there was plenty of room for guests. But this house is far enough away from almost everything else, so he could have peace and quiet when he needed it.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she breathed, taking his hand in hers.
He raised their clasped hands to his lips for a kiss. “That’s why I thought of it for you. You can still take in work from village residents and your former neighbors, but if you prefer the solitude, that’s available, too.”
“You’ll come to call sometimes, won’t you?” she asked. “Artie will miss you when we’re no longer lodging at Rhuddlan Hall.”
“Artie will miss me?”
He arched a single eyebrow at her and she grinned. “He certainly will. And so will his mistress.”
She released his hand and entwined her arms about his neck, gratified when he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist, flattening one warm hand against her back. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, but after all they’d been through together, after all the promises he’d made to her and kept, she felt safe with him.
She’d trusted him with her secrets, her very life, and he’d protected her with his own.
“We need not even contemplate separation for a time yet,” he said, clearing his throat. “Not with Nick still at large. But yes, if you’d like me to call upon you once you take possession, I will.”
“Good.”
They strolled around the grounds for a time, then returned to the curricle for the return to Rhuddlan Hall.
“What do you think?” he asked, his eyes on the horses and the road before them.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, dropping a kiss on his shoulder.
“Can you picture yourself living there?”
It had been difficult when they’d first arrived—it had been years since she’d lived anywhere but her small cottage. But as they’d moved through the house she began to feel a bit like her old self, the daughter of a wealthy merchant who was used to directing servants and redecorating homes. It had been strange, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to return to the woman she’d been then. But perhaps she could forge a new life—the lady of the manor who could also fend for herself.
“Yes, I think I can.”
“Wonderful,” he grinned. “I’ll have one of my secretaries draw up the papers right away.”
A new home, an adequate income, a new life without Sir George. Once Lord Nicholas was dealt with, she would have everything she’d wanted and more.
So why didn’t she feel as excited about it as Rhuddlan seemed to?
~~~
Rhuddlan spent the whole of the following day in his study putting his affairs in order. With his homicidal brother roaming free putting Rhuddlan’s life in jeopardy, he wanted to make sure every single one of the thousands of people who depended upon him would be able to carry on without him.
And there was one person he especially wanted to protect.
He’d saved his will for last, knowing it would be the most complicated of the documents he’d need to modify. He looked at the list he’d made and began to write: a trust for Vaughn’s care in the event he was still injured when Rhuddlan met his demise; monetary bequests to Mrs. Davies, Miss Hatch, John Coachman, and even Artie for distinguished service, as it were; annuities to his personal staff so they might choose whether or not to work for someone else; and the bulk of his unentailed property and the sum to properly manage and care for it all to Sussex, who didn’t need the income but would see to the welfare of the tenants and employees involved. The entailed property would pass directly to his heir along with his titles, and that was still Nick unless Rhuddlan sired a son or Nick died before his brother.
But Rhuddlan Hall and the surrounding estate were not entailed, and he’d saved them specifically for one woman, whom he suspected he was in love with and had been for some time. He’d begun to think of her as “my Livie,” though he knew they’d likely separate permanently, either when Nick was apprehended or when he finally succeeded in killing or incapacitating Rhuddlan. But she’d always have a place in his heart, and he was in a position to right at least one of the wrongs committed against her. He couldn’
t give her the title she’d been cheated out of, but he could make her as wealthy as a countess and answerable to no man.
He rose from his chair, stretching his body after too long in one position, and walked to the bell pull to summon a servant. Miss Stone’s presence was requested when a footman arrived, and several minutes later she appeared in his doorway.
“You wanted to see me, Rhuddlan?”
She was wearing a new gown of white muslin with flowers printed in Rhuddlan red all over. She must have had one of the maids purchase it for her in the village upon their return from Liverpool—he’d heard Mrs. Davies and Miss Hatch urging her to make up something nice for herself once her work was completed, but she was still unsafe away from Rhuddlan Hall.
“Yes,” he said, taking her hand and leading her over to his desk. “I want to show you something.”
A knock sounded on the door before he could continue, followed by Lewis’s voice. “Your Grace, two letters have come for you by messenger.”
“Bring them in.”
Lewis opened the door and delivered the letters to his master. “They came by different messengers, Your Grace.”
“You’ve sent the messengers to the kitchen for something to eat?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good.”
“I’ll leave you to your business,” Olivia said, squeezing his hand before releasing it. “Whatever it is you want to show me can wait until this evening.”
Lewis departed, but Rhuddlan reached for Olivia once more. “Wait a moment. These might concern you as well.”
Rhuddlan broke the seal and scanned the first letter. It was a brief note from Sussex, who had returned to his own home near Shrewsbury, offering up two other possible solutions for Nick’s confinement should he be captured. Sussex didn’t come right out and say he thought Rhuddlan should do that rather than prosecute his brother for attempting to kill two people, along with all the other destruction he’d caused, but Sussex had already made his view on the subject clear. And transportation to a place where Nick couldn’t hurt or manipulate anyone was an appealing idea—much more so than living with the knowledge that he was responsible for his own brother’s execution.
