Lady Olivia To The Rescue (20 page)

The lady in question went to the same coffeehouse as the gentleman did. She took him up in her carriage. According to the landlord, the gentleman has reserved the private parlour for tomorrow at eleven.

Butters

Sheridan pitched the paper into the fire where it flamed brightly and was consumed.

The feeling of betrayal was overwhelming. He had been so sure, so very sure. And now…but Butters didn’t make mistakes.

Too weary to utter his usual curse, Sheridan climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep.

Chapter Eleven

F
loating on a rosy cloud of hope, Olivia awoke the next morning a few minutes before the clock chimed the hour of ten. Both she and Hawkeye, who had been napping on her bed, stretched languorously. Olivia then hopped out of bed, her spirits soaring.

He had danced only with her last night. This interesting fact had travelled the length and breadth of Mr. Pendleton’s ballroom. Speculation was rife, and Olivia was delighted with each rumour as it came to rest in her ears.

“What a glorious day we have in front of us,” she said to Hawkeye. He looked at her and then proceeded to clean his paw.

“First, I will meet with Evelina to show her the building and find out which posting inns would be the most productive for our little project. Then tonight, we have the card party at the Davidsons’, and—guess what? Letitia Davidson confided in me that Drew has accepted their invitation, too.”

Olivia did a little pirouette and hugged herself.

“But first, my dear fellow, we have work to do. ”

She pulled the rope for her maid. A moment later, Pansy entered, carrying a tray with some toast and coffee.

“Good morning, my lady.”

“Good morning, Pansy. Sunshine again today, I think.”

“I think so. That’s what Mr. Pate says. Which dress for this morning, my lady?”

“Make it the green crepe carriage dress, Pansy. I have a mind to look my best. It is one of those days that feels like it will be full of good fortune, and I want to be suitably dressed.”

“Very good, my lady.”

An hour later, Olivia waited near the front door for her carriage to arrive. Glancing out the window, she spied a little man watching the house. One of Sheridan’s henchmen. Olivia smiled. Then she frowned.

Why was the man there? Surely Drew would have called him off after their intensely intimate kiss the previous evening. It was quite obvious, however, that he had not done so.

Perhaps her dear Drew had forgotten. Or perhaps…yes, that must be it. The man had not reported for the day, and Drew had not yet had a chance to tell him there was no longer a need to watch her.

Convinced that this was the most probable explanation, Olivia was tempted to go outside and tell the man herself. Just then, her carriage rolled to a stop at the front door. Olivia left the house and entered the carriage with Harold climbing in after her.

“Good morning, Harold,” she said.

“Good morning, m’lady.”

They started off, and Olivia frowned, looking at her servant’s hand for the book he was currently reading.

He noticed her puzzled look and said, “I don’t have a book with me because I…I wanted to talk to you about something, my lady, with your permission.”

“Certainly, Harold. What is it?”

“I went to the school yesterday morning, my lady.”

When he didn’t continue, she prompted him by asking, “How is everyone? All well, I hope.”

“Oh, yes, my lady. There is nothing the matter with the school. No, it was…me.”

“What happened, Harold? Did you get the children too excited with your lesson? Were the boys too rambunctious?”

“No, nothing like that. No, I have been visiting it whenever I have a bit o’ free time. I knew you wouldn’t mind, and…”

Leaning across the seat, she covered his large hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. “You can tell me anything, Harold.”

He raised his weathered face and a tear slipped down his cheek. “It’s Mrs. Priddy. I…I kissed her hand. I didn’t plan on it, but I did. I was afraid she was going to…”

“I’m sorry, Harold. You must understand, she has been through so much. She didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“She didn’t hurt me, my lady,” he said, awe and wonder in his wide blue eyes. “She kissed my cheek.”

“Sarah? I mean, Mrs. Priddy? She kissed you?”

“Yes, my lady. You could have knocked me over with a feather, you could. What does it mean, my lady?”

“I’m not certain I know,” she replied.

“I never dreamed that she might return my…regard. But if she does, it would be the most wonderful thing!”

“Didn’t you ask her?”

“No, my lady. I simply left her office and went home. I didn’t know what to do or say.”

“But Harold, you should have said something!” exclaimed Olivia. Men! Were they all so dense?

“I know,” he moaned. “She must hate me now.”

“No, she may think you are fickle, but if I know my Mrs. Priddy—and I do—she is wishing she had not kissed your cheek. She is wondering why she did such a forward thing. And she probably wants to die all over again.”

“No! She mustn’t wish that! I couldn’t bear it!”

“Then we must go there at once so that you may tell her. We should have just enough time. Mr. Pate!” she called.

The carriage stopped, Harold swung out to give the driver the change in orders, and they turned at the next street.

When the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the school, the gentle giant said, “What do I say to her?”

“I don’t know, Harold. That is for you to decide. I will tell you this, if you and Sarah should want to marry, you will make the perfect caretaker of the new school.”

“And I can still teach the little ’uns their letters?”

“If the headmistress says so,” replied Olivia, grinning down at him. “I will stay here. You should go in alone.”

“But my lady…”

“Go. Be brave. Be bold.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The carriage door closed, and Olivia said, “And be quick about it.”

Olivia closed her eyes and tried to be patient. Not ten minutes later, the carriage door was thrown open, and Harold climbed inside.

“What happened?

“She forgave me, my lady.”

“And?”

“And she said I should come by on Sunday to escort her and the children to services.”

He beamed, and Olivia smiled. Sarah had always been the cautious sort. Perhaps by the time the new school was open, she would grant Harold her hand in marriage.

If anyone tried to force Olivia to such patience, she would have their heads on a platter. At this ridiculous thought, she smiled again.

If she could have moved time any faster she would have—to that night at the card party when she would see his dear face again. She would do much more than simply kiss his cheek. This thought made her face flame, but she pulled down the veil so that her servant could not see. They were almost at the coffeehouse anyway.

It troubled her, all this secrecy, but her reputation would be in shreds if anyone discovered she was associating with the likes of Evelina Divine. Not to mention meeting Richard in a private parlour.

But now, she wanted to tell Drew. Surely he would understand why she was doing it. After all, he was the one who had made her promise not to hunt for light skirts at Vauxhall. Surely he would not want to deny her wish to help those unfortunate girls.

“We’re almost there, my lady,” announced Harold.

Having Mr. Pate circle around to the back of the building, Evelina Divine and Richard slipped inside with no one the wiser. Harold climbed up beside the driver, and they were away.

Their short journey took them to the building where Olivia wanted to house the girls that they managed to rescue.

As they neared their destination, Olivia said, “Evelina, I have asked Mrs. Miller to be present at the building to show you where the girls will live and work.”

“Good, I think I can be more convincing if I know what the girls are getting for their cooperation.”

“Certainly,” said Olivia. She was really warming up to this woman. It surprised her, but then, she had never had any trouble finding the good in people.

The carriage stopped, and Harold climbed down and opened the door. Sitting in the rear-facing seat, Richard gave a succinct curse and pulled the door closed again.

“Did you see him?”

“Who?”

‘The man who has been watching me for the past week. I don’t understand. He wasn’t following me earlier on the way to the coffeehouse. I looked for him. I thought Sheri must have given up.”

“He is not following you. He is following me,” said Olivia. “He was outside the house when I left. But how did he get to the coffeehouse? He didn’t have a hackney cab waiting, and we went by the school first.”

“Who is this man?” asked Evelina.

“One of my friends doesn’t trust me with Lady Olivia. He is having both of us watched—though they are making a rather poor job of it.”

“I still don’t understand,” said the courtesan.

“It is nothing,” replied Olivia. “Sir Richard is trying to make intrigue where there is nothing but childish jealousy. It doesn’t matter anymore, Richard. Let us go inside.”

“You two go on. I’m going to stay right here, out of sight. I know you will think I am being cowardly, but I have no desire to have Sheri call me out. If all the man has to report is that he saw you and Evelina entering a building…”

“Then stay. We are going inside.”

Olivia opened the door while Richard moved to the corner of the carriage.

“Really, Richard. It is ridiculous of you to act like this. Lord Sheridan would never call you out.”

“You think not? When we were twelve, he took a whip to me for whipping my own horse. If he thought I had my way with you, Olivia, he would not hesitate…close the door for heaven’s sake!”

After Mrs. Miller had shown Evelina the building and the courtesan had asked dozens of questions, Evelina and Olivia returned to the carriage where Richard waited, seated on the floor.

“Good heavens, Richard. The man is not going to eat you.”

Climbing back onto the seat, Richard said, “I keep telling you. It’s not him I’m afraid of.”

“I still say Lord Sheridan would never—”

“Look, can we just go back to the coffeehouse?”

Harold closed the carriage door and climbed up to sit beside Mr. Pate. They began the short journey back to the coffeehouse.

“Can’t you tell him to go faster? The man is on foot. You ladies can finish your business, and we can all be out of the private parlour before he ever gets back.”

Olivia called out, “Spring ’em, Mr. Pate,” and the carriage picked up speed.

Back at the coffeehouse, they entered through the front door. As before, Richard accompanied the two ladies into the private parlour while Harold stood guard at the door.

Sheridan stepped into his carriage with a heavy heart. He had almost decided to remain at home.

If Olivia had chosen to ruin herself with his friend, then so be it.

But at the last minute, he had ordered his curricle brought ‘round. Driving his restive team kept his mind occupied, but he was decidedly glum. His tiger, hanging onto the back, let loose a string of expletives when Sheridan nearly hit another carriage.

“Enough of that, Ned. No need to burn the ears off half of London.”

“Better t’ burn their ears than to run them down, m’lord,’ said the cheeky boy.

“Shaddup,” growled Sheridan.

Olivia and Richard. The thought kept going around and around in his brain, making it impossible to concentrate on his driving—or anything else, for that matter.

“That’s th’ one yer lookin’ fer, m’lord,” said the tiger.

Sheridan pulled on the ribbons, bringing his greys to a halt. Ned ran to their heads while he climbed down.

“This shouldn’t take too long, Ned.”

He glanced at the carriage ahead of him and frowned. The tiger waiting beside it was undoubtedly Olivia’s groom. So Butters had been right. Nothing but an illicit affair could bring Olivia to such a common place.

The thought made his blood boil. The lethargy that had led him to doubt whether he should even go to the coffeehouse fled, replaced by a rising storm of fury.

He stalked to the coffeehouse door. Olivia’s tiger glanced at him as he passed. Then the youth shot past, running inside just before Sheridan.

“It’s him!” he said to the giant guarding the door to the private parlour.

“Hello,” said Sheridan, his hand forming a fist. “Harold, isn’t it? I’m going in there.”

“No, m’lord. You are not,” said the giant.

“Yes, I am. Get out of my way!” Sheridan shoved the giant’s shoulder, but he was immovable. He let go a blow to the giant’s stomach, but it had almost no effect.

Sheridan grabbed Harold by the shoulders and pushed him to one side. Harold took his arm and shoved him away. Sheridan staggered and fell against a table. Shaking his head to clear it, he charged, his head crashing against Harold’s stomach.

The big man said, “Ooof!” and doubled over.

Seeing his chance, Sheridan rammed his fist into that big nose. The giant groaned and crumpled.

The parlour door opened, and Olivia demanded, “What in the world is going on?” Glancing at her servant, she turned to Sheridan and, as Harold later told the children, she bunged him one in the eye.

He grabbed her wrists and set her aside, his fury turned to his rival now who was still inside the parlour, laughing at them.

With a primal growl, Sheridan lunged for Richard, catching him by surprise. Richard threw a punch that sent him reeling, but Sheridan came back and planted him a facer, despite the small fury hanging onto his arm, trying to drag him back.

“Stop! Stop! Drew, have you lost your mind?” screeched Olivia.

“Good afternoon, Lord Sheridan,” said a calm, feminine voice.