Beautiful Distraction (13 page)

She glanced up at her friend and said words that surprised even herself, “I’m not going back to London.”

Violet jerked her gaze toward Olivia. “I—what do you mean? Of course you’ll come with me!”

She shook her head. “No.”

Violet dropped down to her knees in front of her friend and caught both her hands. “Oh, Olivia, please don’t be angry. I’m so sorry I involved you in this; I didn’t mean to bring you grief. You are my best friend and my sister. Please don’t hate me—I couldn’t bear it if you hated me too.”

Olivia drew back in horror at Violet’s assumptions. Gently, she touched her face.

“Dearest, my reasons for not going have nothing to do with you. I’m not angry with you in the slightest.”

Violet’s head came down and her breathing slowed with relief, but when she looked back up, there were tears in her eyes. Ones Violet blinked away. Olivia wished she could do the same to the ones in hers.

“Then…then why won’t you return with me?” Violet asked.

“Because of my feelings for him,” she admitted.

Violet stood slowly. “For Malcolm.”

Olivia nodded. She drew a deep breath before she said, “I am in love with him, Violet.”

She expected Violet to express surprise at this statement, for Olivia had spent a lot of time cultivating an outward appearance of frivolity and emotional detachment. Even her earlier admission to Violet that she cared for Malcolm couldn’t have been fully believed by her friend.

Instead, Violet nodded. “Of course you are.”

Olivia sighed in relief that she wouldn’t have to defend her feelings. “And
because
I love him, I have no choice but to stay and try to fix this wedge between us. Even if it takes a great deal of time, I must try.”

Violet paced away and was quiet for almost a full minute.

“If you love the man, you should fight for him,” she finally said without looking at Olivia.

Olivia heard the pain in Violet’s voice and got to her feet. “And what about
you
?”

“What about me?”

Olivia tried to meet her eyes, but Violet refused to do it. “I think it is evident you care deeply for Liam. I wager you may love him too.”

Violet’s face crumpled before she could turn to the window and ball her fist against the glass.

“You are mistaken,” she said.

Olivia understood the hesitance of her friend. After all, it had been Olivia’s long-ago training that told Violet never to allow feelings with a lover. It was dangerous.

As their current situation certainly proved.

“Am I?” she whispered.

Slowly, Violet turned and looked at her friend.

“Even if I did harbor some kind of tender feelings for Liam, he despises me now. And with good reason.” Her voice broke and she sucked in a harsh breath.

“Oh, Violet.”

Olivia moved to comfort her, but Violet stepped away and Olivia allowed it. It was better to have a little distance since their paths would diverge, at least for a while. A fact that broke Olivia’s heart. Until Mal, Violet had been the person she’d let closest.

“It doesn’t matter,” Violet said. “I did what I did in order to be with my son. And as soon as I can finish this dreadful business with the Rothcastles, I can go to him. It will be worth it. It has to be worth it.”

Olivia nodded in understanding. “You go back tomorrow?”

“In the morning,” Violet said.

Olivia dipped her chin. She would be alone once Violet was gone. And she would have to battle alone for Malcolm’s forgiveness and for her own happiness.

And even though that thought terrified her, she lifted her chin in readiness. She could do this.

She had to.

Malcolm was angry. In truth he had been angry for the past twenty-four hours, since his final encounter with Olivia, but now he was even angrier as he stomped down the hall and burst into the breakfast room without bothering to knock.

As he slammed the door behind himself, Liam turned from the picture window where he had been staring out at the beautiful morning outside.

“Malcolm,” he said.

“She left,” Malcolm announced as he slammed a plate onto the sideboard and shoveled food onto the dish. He wasn’t even hungry.

“
She
?” Liam repeated. “Not
they
?”

Mal’s fork clattered against the sideboard as his heart swelled with pain.

“Which she?” Liam asked when Mal didn’t respond to him immediately.

Mal flinched, damn his wayward thoughts about a woman he didn’t even want to acknowledge. He refocused.

“
Violet
,” he clarified. “Gone early this morning, back to London. Olivia remains in the home that was let by Rothcastle.”

Liam let out a long sigh. “Why do you track their movements?” he asked. “I don’t want to know.”

Mal clenched his fists at his sides and through clenched teeth he admitted a very painful truth. “
I
want to fucking know.”

He swept up his plate and sat down at the table. Immediately he pushed the unwanted food aside and clenched a fist in front of him. Liam was staring at him. Just
staring
.

“Why?” Liam asked.

Mal felt the heat go out of him, replaced by something far sharper and more painful. For the first time, he fully understood why Liam was always so disgruntled. It did protect one from the pain.

“I told you I loved Olivia a few days ago,” he said. “In the heat of an angry moment.”

“Was that a lie?” Liam asked softly.

He rubbed his face. “It was never a lie. It was just utterly stupid. I do love her.”

Liam didn’t look surprised. Just filled with pity.

“And how is that utterly stupid?” his friend asked.

Mal shook his head. “Come, Liam, she was as much a part of this deception as Violet was. She came here to keep me from developing suspicions about her friend. I was just a pawn in their game.”

Liam seemed to ponder that for a moment. “Let me ask you a question.”

Mal shrugged.

“Would you lie for me?” his friend asked.

Mal jerked his gaze up. “What?”

“If I asked you to lie, would you?”

Malcolm hardly had to consider the question. “Yes.”

“In fact, you have lied for me in the past, haven’t you?” Liam lifted his eyebrows.

Malcolm understood his question, but rolled his eyes. “Yes, but that is different.”

“Probably not to those you lied to.” Liam shook his head. “If Violet ever told me the truth, and I think there were times when she did, then the bond she and Olivia share is powerful,
very
powerful.”

“And so that means I should forgive?” Mal said slowly, not wanting to give in to this line of logic when everything in him screamed that he had been betrayed and made a fool.

“What you do is up to you,” Liam said. “But the fact that Olivia didn’t go back to London with Violet says a great deal to me about where she stands.”

Mal bit out a bitter laugh. “Perhaps she thinks she can get something from me.”

Liam shook his head. “Weren’t you the one who told me if I wanted to die miserable and alone, that was my prerogative, but that you didn’t approve? Seems you might wish to follow your own advice.”

Mal rolled his eyes. “Says the man who has been in hiding for years.”

“Well, do as I say, not as I do.” Liam gave a thin smile. “At least go talk to the girl, Mal. At least let her explain. Unlike Violet, she didn’t orchestrate this mess. And she
stayed
. As I said, that has to mean something.”

“I’ll consider it,” Mal said, but the thought of doing so brought him a flood of confusing emotions. Part of him never wanted to face Olivia again.

But part of him—most of him, nearly all of him—needed to do just as his friend said. Whether to get her out of his system or to keep her there forever was something that remained to be seen.

Chapter Twelve

Olivia looked around the small bedroom in the home she had let in Bath just that very morning and sighed.

“It will do,” she said, more to herself than to Belle, who was hanging her things in the small wardrobe.

Her maid looked at her. “May I ask why we didn’t simply stay in the other home? Miss Violet said the Rothcastles had let it for the entire month.”

Olivia couldn’t blame Belle for the question. After all, her servant now had a tiny room in a drafty hall below stairs.

“I’m sorry the accommodations aren’t as lavish as they were,” she said. “But I am determined that Malcolm see I am not taking any further part in Violet’s scheme. Staying at the home the Rothcastles let would undermine that vision.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows slightly but continued her unpacking. “The boy you sent said he delivered your note to Mr. Graham.”

Olivia stiffened. Her early morning hours had been spent saying goodbye to Violet and arranging for her new accommodations, but she’d also written the first in what she assumed would be a long series of letters to Malcolm, asking him to see her so she could explain and including the new address where he could call on her.

“Thank you,” she said. “At least it was accepted; I suppose that is all I can expect from the first note. I shall write him again this afternoon.”

Her maid had seen her through all her protectors and normally didn’t raise a brow at her behavior, but now she straightened up. “So soon?”

Olivia hesitated. In truth she was uncertain about her plan to contact Malcolm twice a day until he agreed to see her, but she had to do something.

“Nothing ventured…” she murmured, but she could hardly believe her own words. There might be nothing left to gain.

Before the conversation could go further, there was a knock on the chamber door. Belle opened it to reveal their new housekeeper, Mrs. Jenkins. The older woman was a jolly, friendly sort.

“Good afternoon, Miss, there is a gentleman to see you.”

Olivia gasped, exchanging a brief glance with her maid before she whispered, “His name?”

“Mr. Graham, he said it was,” the housekeeper said. “Malcolm Graham.”

Malcolm wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his trouser front and leaned uncomfortably against the narrow mantel. The parlor was small and he felt giant in it. Out of place.

And wasn’t he? He shouldn’t even be here.

The door opened and he turned, catching his breath as Olivia took a step inside and slowly shut the door behind her. God, she was lovelier than he had allowed himself to remember. Her blonde locks were wispy around her pale face and her dark eyes locked on him.

“Malcolm,” she whispered, “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

He nodded, staring at her still, unable to tear his eyes away. He had come here with the intention of ranting, railing, demanding answers, but now that he was here, now that he saw her, all that seemed to fade away. He only wanted one thing now. One thing that had nothing to do with her explanations, with his future.

“I wanted to tell you—” she began.

He interrupted her by crossing the room in three long steps and caught her in his arms. His mouth was on hers, hard and insistent.

She stood frozen for a moment, but then she melted against him, her arms coming around his back, her fingers clenching hard through his clothes. She made a low moan in the back of her throat and he lost all reason.

He tugged at her gown, loosening buttons, popping a few off completely, but he didn’t care. She didn’t seem to care either, for she never broke their kiss and she joined him in the frenzy of clothing removal. When her dress was around her ankles, he cupped her backside and picked her up, carrying her across the room and pressing her hard to the wall next to the fire.

She had been working at removing his shirt, but he ignored that and went straight for his trouser buttons. His cock already strained at the fabric and had been since the moment she walked into the room, so it was difficult to get the hooks loose. When he did, his erection bobbed free and he breathed a sigh of relief at the end of constriction.

But relief turned to pleasure as she reached down to cup his hardness, stroking him a few times.

“Malcolm,” she whispered.

He silenced her with another kiss, opening her legs, stroking her sex and finding it wet, then positioning himself at her entrance. He glided forward into her tight body and turned his face away from hers with a heavy moan of deepest pleasure. He wanted her with a power that took his breath away.

He braced one hand on the wall behind her and held her backside against him with the other and stroked into her. She made a gasping, keening sound and her body fluttered around him.

He smiled at her responsiveness and then began to take her in earnest. He didn’t slow down, he didn’t offer her respite, he didn’t do anything except drive toward mutual orgasm with as much speed and pleasure as he could manage. He circled his hips, he lifted her with his thrusts and, finally, with a cry that filled the air, she moaned in pleasure. Her body rocked out of control against him, her legs shaking, her breath broken.