“Will. Wait,” Olivia called after him. “Please stay. We don’t have to talk. We can just enjoy the silence of the garden.”
He ignored her and headed for the coach, signaling for Patrick to leave. He needed to get away from her before he humiliated himself by allowing her to see the heart-breaking grief that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. Now more than ever, he had to make things right for Olivia. He couldn’t bear to fail anyone else, especially her.
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia sat on the rose satin divan and looked around. From the rich red of the carpet, to the burgundy drapery, to the beautiful furnishings, it was the most opulent room she had ever been in, even outshining Amanda and Riverton’s drawing room which Olivia had always thought of as lavish. Too bad, such a room was in a whorehouse.
She sent a smile to the stunning woman who reclined on a divan near the window and tried not to let her nervousness show. The woman, who’d introduced herself as Belle, smiled back.
“Hammond should be here soon,” Belle said. “I can’t imagine what is keeping him.” She gave a catlike smile. “Or should I say who is keeping him.”
If she had hoped to offend Olivia by the innuendo, she failed. Instead Olivia decided it was time to stop being polite. “I do not know why I was brought here, nor do I know what happened to my companion.” She stood. “I wish to leave.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about old Harry. He’s being kept occupied by one of my girls, and I’m certain he won’t be complaining.” Again the catlike smile curled Belle’s lips.
“Be that as it may, I will be leaving.” Olivia headed toward the door, surprised the other woman made no move to stop her. She opened the heavy oak door and came face-to-face with an ox of a man.
With broad shoulders and a barrel chest, he stood a good head taller than she. His hair was brushed back from a high forehead in a manner that seemed to highlight the scar running across his eye to end at the corner of his lips, pulling his mouth up into a permanent macabre grin.
Refusing to show her sudden fear, she crossed her arms over her chest as she’d seen Will do hundreds of times and tapped her foot. “Please move. I’m leaving.”
The man guffawed as though she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He poked her in the chest with enough force to send her stumbling back a few steps. “Ye have spirit for one so small. Guess I’ll be givin’ ye a sportin’ chance then.”
“What does that mean?” She refused to be cowed by the man’s show of strength.
“Have a seat, yer ladyship. Yer gonna tell me what I wanta know about Lazarus.”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Olivia said and realized there was some truth to the lie. She didn’t know a great deal about him. He had a great number of secrets, and he’d shared precious few with her.
“I’d say ye know a lot about him since you like to have him in yer bed.” He gestured for her to sit.
Belle laughed. “I can just imagine what that must be like with the two of them, can’t you, Hammond?” She turned to Olivia. “Do you lie there and count the linens in your head while he’s rutting above you? Knowing Lazarus, I’m certain you don’t get past the number ten, but then you probably find that a relief.”
Olivia felt her face flame with mortification, but she stood her ground, her arms still crossed over her chest.
Hammond grabbed her by the arm, towed her across the room, and pushed her onto the divan. “Things’ll be easier if’n ye lose yer high and mighty attitude.” He sat across from her.
“I don’t know anything about Lazarus,” she repeated.
“You’ll tell me why he’s giving up territory he’s been controlling fer years. What’s he up to? There’s people sayin’ he’s trying to climb out of the gutter he was born in. Are ye apart of that?”
“Why does it matter if any of that is true or not?” she countered.
Hammond sat back and rubbed a finger over his scarred lip. “You’d be better off if’n ye didn’t ask why and answer me questions.”
“I don’t know the answers to your questions.”
“Ye know in some places, death be just a normal event like night following the day.” Sitting forward, Hammond rested his forearms on his knees. “Would ye be likin’ to see some of those places?” He grabbed her arm and nearly pulled her off the divan. “’Cause yer goin’ to if you don’t answer my questions.”
“I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t much.” Olivia tried to keep her voice steady. She was frightened out of her wits, but she didn’t want them to know it.
“Thought ye might.” He sat back against the chair.
“Lazarus is helping me look for my brother. He’s been missing for some time, and I am worried. In return, I’m using my friendships among the members of society to gain him entrée to various social events. He is searching for a nobleman. I don’t know who, and I don’t know why,” she lied, trying to give just enough information to keep herself unharmed yet not betray Will any more than she had to.
Hammond stroked his scar as he stared at her, and Olivia had the distinct impression he was trying to decide if she had spoken the truth or not.
“How did ye meet?”
“He came to my home some weeks ago looking for my brother.”
“Who be yer brother?”
“Sir Phillip St. Germaine.” Olivia frowned. If he didn’t know her brother’s name then how did he know about her?”
“St. Germaine ain’t missing.” Hammond laughed and shook his head as though she was an imbecile for believing such a thing. “Just look in any opium den in London, and you’ll find him in one of ’em.” He tapped his lips. “Course he might be hidin’ now that Finch be looking fer him.”
“Mr. Finch?” Olivia felt as though she’d walked into the middle of a farce where she was the main character and didn’t know what was happening. “Why would Mr. Finch be looking for Phillip?” It dawned on her what Hammond had said earlier. “And what would he be doing in an opium den?”
Hammond laughed and turned to Belle who had moved closer. “She really is a naïve one, ain’t she?”
His laugh came to an abrupt halt when the door to the parlour opened. Will stood on the threshold, his gaze bouncing between the three of them before landing on Hammond. Olivia felt her fear drain away.
She should have known Will would come for her. He’d always been there when she needed him, even when she didn’t know she needed him. She could so very easily fall in love with him.
You are in love with him
, a voice inside her said, and she knew it was true.
Olivia stood.
Hammond looked up at her and back at Will. “Have ye come to rescue the fair maiden from the dragon?” he mocked.
“Actually, I didn’t know she was here,” Will said, barely sparing her a glance.
“Well, mayhap ye should sit and join us. We was just discussing her brother since ye be helping her find him and all.” Hammond gave her a sly look. “Have ye had any luck?”
Will sauntered across the room to stand by the fireplace. “I haven’t bothered looking. Finch will find him soon enough unless he kills himself first.”
“Wi—Lazarus?” Olivia stared at him in confusion.
“Come now, Miss St. Germaine, you don’t expect us to believe you didn’t know your sainted brother was an opium addict?” he sneered.
“No, I don’t believe it. Phillip would never use opium. He was against anything with addictive properties.” Olivia didn’t understand what was happening. “He hated using even laudanum on the battlefield unless absolutely necessary.”
“Because he wanted to ensure he had a supply for himself. How many men do you think suffered needlessly because of your brother? How many men died in agony while your brother worked on them without the benefit of any type of pain relief? What kind of man would do that to another?”
Will’s questions lashed at her like a whip. His voice was calmer than she’d ever heard it, but his words bit deep. She covered her ears with her hands. “Stop saying such terrible things. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I won’t listen to your lies.”
He pulled her hands away from her head. “It’s time you faced the truth.”
Belle sat on the edge of Hammond’s chair, a fascinated expression on her face. His expression gave nothing away, but his gaze was calculating.
Angry at being humiliated in front of them, Olivia spun away from Will. “Do you mean to tell me you knew where Phillip was all this time?”
“Well, in one opium den or another.” He made a careless gesture with his hand.
“You used me.” Olivia stared at the man she thought she loved.
“You gave me the perfect opportunity when you came looking for me. How could I not? Your connections with the Rivertons gained me far more access to the
Ton
than Hargrove ever could.”
“But you helped me through the storms, and after Patrick—”
“I had to keep you thinking how wonderful I was. How else to get into your bed?” He lounged on the divan as though he was discussing nothing more important than the weather. “I wanted you. That wasn’t a lie. And I had you.” He sent a grin in Hammond’s direction. “More than once.”
Olivia hitched in a breath. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had struck her with his fist.
He looked at her over his steepled fingers. “You were…convenient.” His voice was low and cold, freezing her to her very soul. “And not very good.” He winked at Belle. “Which is why I’m here. I’ve come to visit one of your lovelies.”
“Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll let you take your pick.” Belle stood and held out her hand to him.
Will rose and let her lead him across the room. Olivia could only stand by and watch. She felt as though she were caught in an unending nightmare. After her years on the battlefield, she had always thought she was adept at reading men and what they were really after. How could she have been played for such a fool?
He stopped at the door and turned back, his eyes coal dark and expressionless. “In the future, I suggest you remember this—If you play in the dirt, you are going to get your skirts dirty. I’m sure Huntley is still willing to crawl into your bed even if you are soiled.”
She stared at him, fighting to keep any emotion from showing on her face. He turned and left the room, Belle on his arm. Bile rose up the back of her throat. Olivia fought the waves of nausea and rubbed her arms. She’d never felt so used, so dirty in her life.
“I guess ye were tellin’ the truth,” Hammond said as he rose. “Ye really didn’t know anythin’ about Lazarus.” He strode from the room, leaving her alone.
Chapter Nineteen
Olivia sat at the table her chin resting in her hand and stared out the window. Five days after that horrible afternoon when she’d seen the true side of Lazarus and she still felt so ashamed. She didn’t think of him as Will any longer. She doubted the man she knew as Will ever existed.
“And then Prinny walked down Bond Street in his unmentionables.”
She turned to her companion. “What did you just say?”
Mr. Finch grinned at her. “I knew you weren’t paying attention when you didn’t correct me at every other word when I was trying to read this thing.” He pushed the children’s book aside.
“I’m sorry. I fear I’m not very good company today.” She gave him a half-hearted smile. “But you are making very good progress after only three lessons.”
“Why don’t I teach you something?”
Olivia recoiled. “I’ve learned enough lessons lately, thank you.”
“I’m sorry for what Lazarus did to you.” Mr. Finch reached out to touch her but curled his fingers into his hand instead. “He’s a fool.”
“Thank you for telling me the truth when I asked. I
will
pay you back the money Phillip stole from you.”
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “And I told you, I’ll not take your blunt. You are already paying me back in a much more meaningful way. You are giving me freedom by teaching me to read.”
Olivia moved away from his touch and pulled the book back between them. She turned the page only to have a pair of dice drop onto the book.
“How about we take a break, and I teach you how to play Hazard? Unless you already know how?”
“No, I don’t, and I’m really in no mood to play games.” She set the dice aside.
“Then that is the perfect time to play. Nothing puts a body in a good mood like winning money.” He picked up the dice and set them in front of her. “You can be the caster. You must call a main which is any number between five and nine and place your bet on the table, which I have to cover. I can then make a bet of my own if I wish. If you throw the number you called, you win the money on the table.”
She moved the cubes back in front of him. “I am not gambling with you.”
He looked around the room, then hopped up from his chair and began collecting various curios from around the room. He brought everything back to the table and pushed half of the items toward Olivia. “In place of blunt,” he said by way of explanation.
“You certainly are determined,” she said, feeling the corners of her mouth quirk upward.
“No more than you when I am trying to distract you from that blasted book.”
“Which is what you are trying to do now.”
He smiled at her. “Exactly. Now call a number between five and nine.”
Olivia tried to scowl at him but couldn’t quite manage it. “Eight.”
“Now place your bet.”
She pushed the small ivory music box forward.
“I shall match your bet with my vase.” He pushed a tall thin crystal vase next to the music box. “Now roll the dice.”
Olivia shook the cubes in her hand and dropped them onto the table.
“Eight. You won.” He pushed the items toward her.
They played on with him explaining various rules as the game continued. Olivia still wasn’t quite sure what the difference between a “chance” and a “main” were, but she found herself so caught up in trying to understand the rules, she was able to forget about her heartache for a short time.
She clapped her hands as she won the very last trinket from Mr. Finch’s side of the table.
“You really are quite lovely. Did you know your eyes sparkle like sapphires when you laugh?” He gazed at her, his expression serious. “I see why Lazarus is so taken with you. You make a man forget what he really is. Make him believe he can be more than he is.”