Janice Preston - Lady Olivia And The Infamous Rake

‘I shall come with you,’ he said. ‘I have a hackney waiting in the Square.’

‘There is no need. You’ve done enough.’

‘I intended to return anyway. I’ll help you find Beauchamp first, then I have business of my own to attend to.’

Lady Olivia might have forgotten her reckless wager, and the price Clevedon intended to extract, but Hugo had not. Not only was there a wayward brother to track down, but he also had a necklace to retrieve.

* * *

Olivia clung on to Hector’s collar as they climbed the stairs. After the terror and excitement of the evening, tiredness all at once swamped her. Her legs felt cumbersome, as though they belonged to someone else, as she attempted to move quietly. The familiar surroundings appeared to be somehow distant from her—as though she was viewing them through thick, somewhat distorted glass. She realised she was a touch drunk.

All I need to do is get to my bedchamber without anyone seeing me.

A single candle burned in a wall sconce opposite the head of the stairs, as it did every night, and she resumed her climb up to the second floor and her bedchamber. She stumbled over the final stair as she gained the second landing and she swallowed down a giggle.

‘Shhh,’ she said to Hector. He looked up at her, somewhat reproachfully, she thought. She weaved a little as she headed along the corridor towards her bedchamber. ‘We must not wake Aunt Cecily. Or Lady Glen... Lady Glenlo... Lady G.’

She grimaced at the thought of meeting Nell’s formidable aunt, who had been living at Beauchamp House for the past few months, ever since Papa and Rosalind’s betrothal and their subsequent marriage.

Without warning, her throat thickened and her eyes blurred. She stopped walking and frowned.

‘But I like Rosalind... I mean, Stepmama,’ she said out loud. ‘Why do I feel like crying?’

The click of a door latch roused her and she turned, her heart thumping, afraid it would be Aunt Cecily. Her aunt would never swallow some cock-and-bull story about going outside with Hector. She would see right through Olivia. She released her pent-up breath as Nell peered from her bedchamber.

‘I thought you were my aunt,’ Olivia said.

‘But Cecily’s bedchamber is nowhere near here, Livvy,’ Nell said. She stepped out into the passageway, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘Why are you dressed? You retired hours ago, with the headache.’ She scanned Olivia from head to toe. ‘Have you been out ? Where did you get that bracelet? What have you been up to?’

Olivia’s stomach somersaulted.

The bracelet. Mama’s necklace. Lord Clevedon.

How could I have forgotten?

‘Livvy?’ Nell’s voice was laced with concern as she grabbed Olivia’s arm. ‘Are you ill? Shall I fetch someone?’

Olivia wrenched her horrified thoughts from that dreadful game of piquet. ‘No. But I’m in such trouble. Oh, what am I to do, Nell?’

‘Shhh.’

Nell dragged Olivia into her bedchamber and thrust her towards the bed, where the rumpled sheets were—Olivia discovered as she slumped to the mattress—still warm. Nell lit a candle on her bedside table and then sat next to Olivia, her arm around her, as Hector padded across to flop down on the fireside rug.

‘What is it, Livvy? What happened?’

Olivia tugged at the ties of her domino and let it slide from her shoulders as her hands went to her neck, exploring the bare skin in the vain hope that the entire episode had been a dream—or a nightmare—and, somehow, miraculously, her mother’s necklace would reappear. Tears stung her eyes again.

‘Oh, I am a wicked, wicked girl.’

‘Livvy! You are frightening me. What has happened ?’

Nell shifted away from Olivia and, grabbing her by the shoulders, she shook her.

‘Please. Tell me, Livvy. It cannot be so very bad, but I cannot help if you do not tell me.’

Olivia sunk her head into her hands, her thoughts muddled and sluggish as she tried to remember it all. Slowly, disjointedly, she told Nell about her wager with Alex, their trip to Vauxhall and that disastrous card game with Lord Clevedon.

‘Lord Clevedon ? I am shocked. I thought he was a gentleman.’

‘He is. But he did not know it was me. He thought I was a floozy . He probably thought I only got what I deserved...but...oh, Nell ! I could have asked Lord Hugo for help... I am certain he would have helped me. But I forgot all about it because I was so certain he would try to kiss me in the hackney and when he did not—’ Olivia sniffed and rubbed her eyes. ‘He is as bad as Dominic and Alex. He thinks I am a s-s-silly child and not even p-p-pretty enough to steal a kiss. I was at his mercy, and he...he...’

He was kind.

He listened.

And I...oh, no...

‘I told him all about Alex and Foxbourne and everything . Why did I tell him? I did not mean to, it just all poured out.’

‘But... Livvy...who is Lord Hugo? How is he involved?’

‘Lord Hugo Alastair.’

Nell gasped. ‘Livvy! Do not tell me you were alone with him in a hackney.’

‘Yes,’ said Olivia, miserably. ‘And he did not even try to kiss me.’

‘But where did you meet him? Where was Alex? Surely Alex did not allow you to go off alone with a rake like Lord Hugo?’

‘Alex was not there. He went off with that strumpet Lady Shelton,’ Olivia said, tartly. ‘He left me with Lord Clevedon and Lord Hugo. But then, after I lost Mama’s necklace, I went to look for Alex and Lord Hugo rescued me and he brought me home.’

‘Well, it is Alex’s fault. Let him retrieve the necklace.’

‘I cannot. He already scolded me for wearing it. And he’s like to go off and challenge Lord Clevedon to a duel or something. You know how hot-headed he is.’

‘We shall confide in Freddie, then. He will know what to do,’ Nell said.

‘Freddie already knows, but he does not know about the necklace and I cannot tell him, because then he will feel he has to tell Papa and then he will cast Alex out and it will all be my fault. Oh, Nell. What am I to do? Papa will be home in a few days and he is bound to see it is missing.’

‘Well...’ Nell frowned, clearly thinking. ‘Well. I suggest we sleep on it. I am sure we’ll think of something in the morning.’

* * *

Progress was slow when Hugo and Freddie arrived back at Vauxhall Gardens. Hugo matched his pace to that of his companion as they turned down yet another path, searching the faces of the numerous young men in the dimly lit thoroughfare, seeking Alex. Hugo curbed his impatience—Freddie could not help being slow, and Hugo was keen to help him find Alex. Everything he had learned tonight about the Duke’s son had reminded him of his younger, wilder self.

And then there was this weird, completely out-of-character compulsion to help Olivia—he made it a rule in life not to burden himself with unnecessary responsibilities—but there was something about her spirit that drew him to her. And the odd glimpse of bewildered child beneath the bold front she exhibited to the world roused his normally well-concealed protective instincts. The decision was made. If he could help the two of them, he would do so.

Hugo scanned the couples they passed, but there was still no sign of young Beauchamp. Freddie was noticeably struggling to cope with the crowds and the distance they needed to walk.

‘I have an idea.’ Hugo halted as they entered the main area near to the rotunda. ‘We could walk around for hours and keep missing Alex. Why do you not wait here...’ he indicated a nearby bench ‘...and I will search the pathways. That way, you will see him if he should happen to pass.’