“Olivia, may I introduce Miss Emma Tompkins?” He looked to the young woman standing opposite him. “Emma, this is Olivia St. Germaine.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Miss Tompkins said, a smile as bright as a sunny day crossing her face. “I’m so very happy to see Lazar—Mr. Prescott has decided there is more to an existence than seeing to others.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said taking an instant liking to her. She had to admit Miss Tompkins’s comment had aroused her curiosity. Perhaps she would have a chance to talk to her later.
Casting a reproachful look at Will, the young woman laid her hand on the arm of the gentleman beside her. “This is my betrothed, Mr. Blaine Hobson.”
Feeling the sudden tension in the air between the two men, Olivia offered her hand to the tall dark-haired man in front of her. “Mr. Hobson. It’s so very nice to meet you. I must say I was very taken by your poem,
Death Rides the Night
.”
He waved away her compliment and bowed over her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, despite your companion.”
Olivia raised her brows at the comment.
Emma gave her a rueful look. “I’m afraid Mr. Hobson and Mr. Prescott tolerate each other purely for my benefit.” She smiled up at her betrothed. “The musicians have taken their places. Shall we cause a scandal and dance?” Mischief glowed in her eyes, and Olivia knew she wanted to further her acquaintance with the young woman.
“As you wish.” Mr. Hobson nodded to Olivia and led his intended to join the others moving onto the dance floor.
“They seem quite nice,” she said, watching them walk away.
“Emma is indeed a special woman.”
Will’s words were like a stab to the heart. Was the animosity between him and Mr. Hobson due to Will loving Emma himself? “How did you meet her?” she forced herself to ask.
“I came upon her one night trying to fight off footpads intent on relieving her of more than the meager coins she carried. I helped her escape them—”
“You saved her,” Olivia interrupted.
He inclined his head in agreement. “From that moment on, I let it be known she was under my protection; that anyone hurting her would answer to me.”
“Much as you have done with me,” she said the words tonelessly. “How many women do you have under your ‘protection’?”
“Emma, who with Hobson at her side, no longer needs it and yourself.” His gaze tracked the young blonde woman around the dance floor.
“She means a great deal to you,” Olivia said. Her voice more subdued than she meant it to be. A sense of loss curled around her heart. How had she come to care for a man who clearly cared for another?
“Yes, she does. I failed Mary, and when I met Emma so desperately in need of help, I vowed I would not leave another woman to be used by society and cast aside.”
“I see.” Olivia watched as Miss Tompkins laughed up at something Mr. Hobson said. Did Will feel the claws of jealousy every time he saw the two of them together?
He moved in front of her, cutting off her vision of the dance floor. “Do you?” He stared at her as though trying to read her thoughts. “Emma is like a sister to me. You, however, mean a great deal more.”
“There is no need to pay me false compliments. I know we are in truth nothing more than two people using each other to find our loved ones.”
“Is that all we are?” he asked in a tone she’d never heard him use before. “I guess I shall have to convince you otherwise.” He clasped her hand in his and led her toward the other dancers.
The evening passed too quickly as far as she was concerned. She had danced twice with Will, and though she knew she risked a scandal, she wished she could dance with him again. He had let her see a side of him he often kept hidden. He charmed her with anecdotes about various guests, had danced with Miss Tompkins while Olivia herself had partnered Mr. Hobson who was polite but reserved.
She watched Will and Miss Tompkins come toward her, his head bent to hers in a solicitous manner. Jealousy ate at her, but she pushed it aside. While she may have feelings for him, he seemed to have no genuine feelings for her other than toying with her affections. It seemed he felt it was his duty to care for any woman who had no one to care for her.
“Thank you for sending Rachel to me,” Emma said as they drew close. “You were right. She learns quickly and shows quite a talent with the needle.”
“I’m glad.” Will’s gaze tracked a liveried servant around the room. “If you ladies will excuse me.” He bowed over their hands and turned away.
Olivia watched him pass close enough to the servant so to anyone watching, it looked as though he had accidentally bumped into the man, but she saw the slip of paper pass between them. Will pocketed the note under the pretext of adjusting his coat.
He stepped out onto the terrace. Olivia turned to his friend who seemed content to watch the dancers swirl around the floor. “Would you excuse me as well? I feel the need for a breath of fresh air.”
“Oh, of course. I felt overwhelmed the first time I attended a ball with Mr. Hobson.”
Olivia smiled her thanks and threaded her way around the room. Being seen on the arm of a man in trade, not to mention rumoured to be a criminal, kept most of the gossips at bay, and she was able to make her way to the French doors leading to the terrace without any delays. She pushed the door open and stepped out into the night air.
The hint of a breeze cooled her cheeks, and she felt the tension of the evening fade. Will stood in the shadows facing her. He frowned when he saw her but continued his conversation with a well-dressed gentleman she didn’t recognize. Not wanting to interrupt, she stayed near the door and enjoyed the starlit sky.
She didn’t want him to think she was trying to eavesdrop, but even if she wanted to, their low tones didn’t carry on the night air. A moment later, the man moved down the stairs and disappeared into the garden.
“Why did you follow me?” Will asked as he came to stand beside her.
Olivia shrugged. She really didn’t know why she had. “Curiosity, I guess.”
He smiled and led her to the edge of the terrace. “Do you suppose I could entice you to take a walk in the gardens?”
“As much as I would like to accept your offer, I fear we are already courting scandal by being out here alone.”
He lifted her gloved hand to his lips. “I feared as much.” He pressed a kiss on the back of her hand and released her.
Wanting to hold onto the warmth of his kiss, she covered the hand with her other.
“Would you mind if I joined a game or two in the card room?”
Olivia grinned. “Wanting to fleece a pigeon or two, are you?”
“I see Harry’s been doing more than watching out for you, but no. Sandhurst has been seen in London. I want to ask a few questions of his cronies who are present tonight to see if the duke has indeed returned. I’ve learned that a man who is intent on his cards will often say things he ordinarily wouldn’t when he’s not otherwise occupied.”
“I see.” She smothered a yawn.
“You’re tired. We’ll go.”
“No.” She made a staying motion. “This might lead you to Mary. Besides I promised Amanda I’d stay at least until after Riverton unveiled his birthday gift to her.” Though after their earlier confrontation, she wasn’t quite certain if Amanda would care if she were there or not. “You do what you need to and find me later.”
“Thank you.” He curled his fingers around hers.
“Olivia.”
She jumped at the sound of her name, and Will’s hand dropped away. “Lord Michael.” She hated the way her voice sounded—as though she had gotten caught doing something illicit. She pressed her hand to chest. “You frightened me. I was just returning to the ballroom, would you escort me?” She didn’t want to leave the two men alone. The last thing she needed was gossip being bandied about that they were fighting over her.
“I think not. I believe Mr. Prescott and I have an understanding to reach.”
Will raised an eyebrow but didn’t utter a word.
“Be polite,” she whispered near his ear and headed for the door.
Turning the knob, she opened the glass panel and stepped inside, but not before glancing back over her shoulder for one last glimpse of him.
He smiled at her and felt his heart squeeze painfully. She had a way of looking at him that made him want impossible things. And when she smiled, he found her even more alluring. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and show her how much she meant to him. But that was not to be. He turned to the pompous ass beside him. “You aren’t going to make the mistake of threatening me, are you?”
“Miss St. Germaine has led a sheltered life and is unaccustomed to the attentions of someone like you.”
“A sheltered life?” Will nearly laughed aloud. “Are we speaking of the same young woman? The Miss St. Germaine I know has seen more of the horrors that men do to each other in the name of war than any man in that room.” He gestured to the ballroom.
“Yes, well. We don’t speak of her time assisting her brother. It’s unseemly.”
“She did a lot more than ‘assist’ her brother. She faced the hell of battle and its aftermath and is still more of a lady than most women I’ve met.”
His lordship’s nose wrinkled as though he smelled a foul odor. “I can just imagine what sort of women you are acquainted with.”
“I suggest you think long and hard before you utter another word.”
“I did not come out here to debate the merits of the women in your life. I do not care who you consort with, but you will cease courting Olivia at once.”
“And if I choose not to?”
“Then you might find yourself floating in the Thames right alongside all the other bodies you’re rumoured to have dumped there.”
“You shouldn’t make threats you aren’t capable or willing to carry out.” Will grabbed his lordship by the cravat and slammed him against the brick wall, careful to keep them both out of sight.
“You see I have no such qualms about doing so.” He wrapped Huntley’s cravat around his hand, tightening the length of cloth around the marquess’ neck. “I will continue to see Olivia, and she will continue to see me so long as she wishes to. If I hear even the slightest rumour of scandal attached to her name because of her association with me, you will wish you were floating in the Thames.” He gave the material a twist and felt a sense of satisfaction as the other man’s eyes began to bulge and his face turned red. “Do we understand each other?”
Huntley gave the barest nod of his head. Will released him and stepped away.
His lordship sagged against the ivy covered wall, gasping for breath.
“I suggest you remember this conversation,
my lord
, for I shall find it much easier to hunt you than you will to hunt me.”
****
Will lifted his head, focusing on the sounds around him. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Lord Coddington shifted the cards in his hand and frowned.
Concentrating on filtering out the noise of the room, Will stared at the far wall.
“Pay attention, Prescott, or leave the game,” Baron Sutton groused.
“I believe I’ll sit this round out.” Will set his cards on the table. The sound came again. “It seems a storm is coming. My horse becomes rather high-strung at the sound of thunder.” He sent a silent apology to Olivia for saying she was a horse, but he was certain she wouldn’t want any of the men at the table to know of her fear.
“Not thunder,” Coddington said, still frowning at his cards. “Riverton arranged to have a fireworks display in honour of her ladyship’s birthday.”
“Fireworks?” Will stood up from the table. He was certain Olivia would be affected by the booming sounds of the fireworks. They were after all a form of explosive.
Coddington set his cards on the table with a sigh. “Yes, you know, showers of lights in the sky and god-awful bangs after each one.”
“Where are they being held?” Will tried to keep the urgency from his voice.
“Back garden,” Sutton snapped. “Now, do you mind if we get on with the game.”
Will hurried from the room and down the hall to the ballroom. He scanned the guests, but there was no sign of Olivia. He pushed past a couple on their way out to the terrace with a muttered apology and ran down the stone stairs to the gardens. The crashing noise overhead drove him down the path to the right. Sparkling blue and green lights filled the night sky. Will started to run.
He reached the edges of the crowd and looked around. No sign of Olivia. He moved through the throng.
“Miss St. Germaine, have you seen her?” he asked Blaine and Emma when he ran into them.
“No—” Emma began, but he didn’t wait to hear the rest. He raced through the people gathered there. He called Olivia’s name, but she was nowhere to be found.
He stopped to look around. Perhaps she was inside the house. Yes, that made sense. She wouldn’t be out here close to the source of noise that would seem so much like cannon fire. He made his way back the way he came. As he reached the edge of the crowd, he froze, every fear he’d ever had crystallizing in that single space in time. Olivia stood on the edge of a balcony three stories above the ground. The bright moon and the light from the fireworks display illuminated her so clearly, he had no doubts it was she.
He ran down the path, dodging other guests, but never slowing down. He felt ice cold and too hot all at once. He sprinted up the steps leading to the terrace and dashed inside. The faster he tried to run, the slower he seemed to move. Time stood still. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the third floor and turned to his left, opening every door, hoping he was headed in the right direction and thankful the fireworks had seemed to come to an end.
He came to an open door halfway down the hall. Pushing it open further, he stepped inside. The light breeze filtered into the room through a pair of sheer white drapes. He strode to the opening and sent up a silent prayer.
He stepped through the open French doors. Olivia stood on the edge of the balcony railing facing the night sky.
“Olivia,” he called in a gentle voice so as not to frighten her.