The Elusive Wife (4 page)

With no time to dwell on her marriage, and the man she would be giving herself to for the rest of her life, she had assumed her place in front of the vicar in the library at Coventry, still dressed in light mourning.

Except there had been no groom to join her. Until a pounding had erupted on the front door, and Jason Cavendish, the Sixth Earl of Coventry, had stumbled into the room—blind drunk.

Chapter Four

Olivia laid down her pen and read over the letter she was composing to her best friend. Lady Lansdowne had been Lady Elizabeth when they had been in school together in London. One year older than Olivia, they had left school at the same time. Olivia had answered her father’s summons to Italy. Elizabeth had returned home to prepare for her Season. Elizabeth’s mother had wanted her to wait the extra year so she would have her come-out with her cousin.

After a whirlwind courtship, Elizabeth had wed the Marquess of Lansdowne in a fairy- tale wedding. The friends continued to correspond, although Olivia had put off writing this particular letter. But, she reasoned, if anyone would sympathize with her plight, it would be Elizabeth. Olivia bent her head, eyes moving back and forth as she read her words.

My Dear Elizabeth,

No doubt it will surprise you to learn I am now wed. The Earl of Coventry and I exchanged vows three weeks ago. He found it necessary to return to London soon after, so I am quite alone here, rattling around in this big house.

Father passed away shortly before I left Rome for my marriage. It was his lungs, which I think he neglected to take care of. Nothing seemed to interest him after Mother died.

I keep myself busy. The gardener assures me soon he will begin preparing the grounds for spring flowers. I long to see colorful blossoms once again. Cook and I meet weekly to go over the menu, which seems silly since I eat alone, and never had a large appetite.

The best times are when I visit the tenants. I take fresh baked breads and pastries to the families, who are grateful for my attention. The children are so adorable and make me ache for some of my own. I find the people and their cottages warm and welcoming and they always ask after the Earl. I hope he will be able to visit soon.

Now I must go and take my tea. I would so love to hear from you and how life goes in London.

Fondly,

Olivia

…

Lady Lansdowne read the letter over again, her brows furrowed. There must be some mistake. Surely Lord Coventry had not married her dearest friend. Why, the scoundrel had been at all the parties and balls she had attended since arriving for the Season. He displayed none of the behaviors of a married man. Indeed, Lady Sheridan had been draped all over him just last night at the youngest Darkin daughter’s come-out ball.

Something was not right, and Elizabeth could not sit by and not help correct it. Olivia had sounded, for lack of a better word, lost. So unlike the vibrant young woman she knew so well.

Elizabeth quickly withdrew a sheet of foolscap and began to write.

My Dearest Olivia,

Surprise cannot begin to cover my reaction to your news. Married! And to the Earl of Coventry!

You don’t mention what keeps him here in London, but now you must pack up and join us. The Season is just beginning, and there will be routs and balls and parties you must attend with us.

My dear little Evan remains in the country with his nurse. His lordship wanted me to accompany him to London for the Parliamentary session, and we both felt the air in London would not be good for Evan’s little lungs. Oh I so wish you could see how adorable he is. But then I suppose all mothers think so of their children.

I’m not sure what Coventry’s bachelor town home is like, but Lansdowne has opened ours, and we have plenty of room. You must stay with us. It will be as if we were school girls together once more.

Be aware I will not take no for an answer. I will expect you within two weeks. Please, Olivia, it will be so much fun.

I am looking forward to a long chat.

Yours Forever in Friendship,

Elizabeth

…

Olivia reached out to grasp the driver’s hand. It was hard not to stare open-mouthed as she stepped out of the carriage. In so many ways she felt like a young girl again, with no knowledge of the world. Maybe her father had been right and she should have experienced a London Season.

The Lansdowne town house in Belgravia was exquisite. Two columns framed a white painted stucco fa
ç
ade with an entryway to the main front door—a stark black—with an unusual lion’s head knocker. The whole image was one of elegance and sophistication.

A butler opened the door before Olivia had even arrived at the first step. He bowed to her as she entered.

“Lady Coventry, I presume?” He reached for her pelisse.

“Yes. Thank you,” she murmured distractedly. Her eyes were busy taking in the entrance hall, an elegant area twice the size of the bedroom she and Elizabeth had shared at school.

“Olivia!” Elizabeth squealed as she ran down the stairs, her hand fisted in her dress, revealing delicate house shoes and white stockings.

“Elizabeth,” Olivia sighed, her eyes filling. Seeing her dearest friend released something she hadn’t realized she’d held in. Elizabeth represented warmth, love, and security. She embodied a young woman’s dreams and fantasies, a naïve hope for a fairy-tale ending.

The women hugged and shed tears as the butler looked over their heads. Soon he cleared his throat. “My lady, perhaps you would like to retire to the morning room where tea has been set up.”

“Oh yes, Staunton, thank you.” Elizabeth wiped tears from her eyes.

Arms around each other’s waists, Olivia and Elizabeth proceeded to the morning room and settled side by side on a comfortable settee.

Olivia regarded her hostess. In the few years since her wedding, Elizabeth had grown into a lovely marchioness. No longer a schoolgirl, she wore the mantle of grace and refinement required of her position, from the top of her golden blond head to her tiny feet. Now Elizabeth’s blue eyes searched her face with concern. “I cannot tell you how good it is to see you.” She held the delicate yellow flowered teapot and poured them both steaming cups of tea.

Olivia accepted the cup and savored the hot bracing liquid. “And I cannot tell you how happy I am to have come.”

Elizabeth chattered on about London, the Season, her visits to the modiste, and the events planned for the coming week. Olivia used the opportunity to collect herself. As happy as she was to be here with her dearest friend, she knew the time would come when Elizabeth would want to know the full story, and she had no intention of holding anything back. She desperately needed someone to talk to and get advice from.

“So,” Elizabeth said brightly, taking her friend’s hand. “Tell me how you came to be married to the Earl of Coventry.”

Olivia opened her mouth to speak and burst into tears.

“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said. Getting up, she closed the door to the morning room and came back to sit next to Olivia, who was taking in deep gulps of air in an attempt to control her sobs. Elizabeth patted her hand, giving her time to compose herself.

“You must think me a complete ninny.” Olivia wiped her nose on the white laced handkerchief she retrieved from her pocket.

“I don’t know what to think, dear. You’re quite pale, and seem to have lost a few pounds.” She sighed. “I’m afraid you are about to tell me an unhappy story.”

“Yes, I’m afraid my tale is somewhat unpleasant.” Taking a deep breath, Olivia related the account of her arranged marriage, the wedding itself, and how things had progressed from there—or not progressed. When she finished her story, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. In fact, she had the strangest urge to dance around the room and throw her head back with laughter in a most unladylike manner.

“Well. A truly dreadful story.” Elizabeth eyed her with sympathy. “But right now I think you should have a nice hot bath, and rest before dinner. My husband will be joining us tonight, and I cannot wait for Grif to see you again.” She rose and rang the bell next to the door.

“Rose, please see Lady Coventry settled. Mrs. Deacon has readied the blue room.” Elizabeth took Olivia’s arm and walked with her to the bottom of the stairs.

“Lady Coventry will also require a bath.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Elizabeth led Olivia up the stairs. “Dinner is at seven o’clock tonight. Grif and I are having a night at home. It will be good for you to rest up. We will be busy tomorrow.” She smiled warmly.

“Busy?” Olivia said, her eyebrows raised.

“We will discuss it at dinner, dear. Now go have your bath and rest. I will see you later.”

The room Olivia had been assigned was beautifully decorated in pale blues and the same deep violet of her eyes. Even though it was early April, a lively fire blazed in the hearth, taking the damp chill from the air. Rose bustled around the room, hanging up Olivia’s dresses and gowns while a stream of maids carried in buckets of hot water for the tub set up in front of the fireplace.

The soothing bath felt wonderful after the long trip. Her sore muscles relaxed and she felt better than she had in a long, long time. Rose helped her wash her hair, then combed it out in front of the fire. After it was sufficiently dry, Olivia climbed into the soft bed and fell sound asleep.

“Time to get ready for dinner, my lady.”

Olivia opened her eyes to see Rose carrying one of her gowns. She laid it carefully on the bottom of the bed, running her hand over the smooth peach muslin.

“I pressed your gown for you, so it will be all ready for dinner. Once we get you into this, I’ll have a go at your hair. I’ve been doing her ladyship’s styles for a while now and she is pleased.”

“Thank you, that will be fine, Rose.”

The nap having fully restored her, Olivia felt an enthusiasm she had missed for weeks. She was finally here in London and staying with her closest friend. This visit was the antidote she needed for the tediousness her life had become. She had no idea how she would go on from here, but at least optimism was now part of the resolution.

Elizabeth−Olivia still didn’t think of her friend as Lady Lansdowne−and Lord Lansdowne waited for her as she entered the drawing room. A lovely place, with rose and green striped wallpaper, and a light green carpet. Her gaze immediately settled on a large painting of who had to be Elizabeth’s pride and joy, Evan. The portrait hung over the hearth in a place of honor. The furnishings in a rich chintz and damask had obviously been selected for comfort as well as style. Elizabeth had certainly put her mark on the room.

“My, you look much better,” Elizabeth said as she joined her at the door, putting her arm around Olivia’s waist and urging her into the room.

“Thank you. I feel much better as well.”

A cheerful looking man, red-cheeked and slightly rotund, and only several inches taller than Olivia, turned from the table where he poured drinks. Lord Lansdowne approached his wife and handed her a small glass of sherry.

Addressing her husband, Elizabeth said, “Grif, I’m sure you remember by dearest friend, Lady Coventry. She attended our wedding.”

He bowed slightly and kissed her outstretched hand. “A pleasure to renew our acquaintance, my lady. Elizabeth has entertained me for quite some time with tales of your escapades at school.”

Lord Lansdowne regarded his wife with unmistakable adoration. A brief twinge of envy flooded Olivia, soon followed by guilt. Elizabeth certainly deserved such love; she just wished such esteem could be hers as well.

One brow arched as Lord Lansdowne studied her intently. “Coventry, you say?”

“Yes, my lord.” Olivia lowered her eyes as she curtsied.

“You must explain this to me, my lady. I have spent quite a bit of time with Coventry of late, and he neglected to mention a beautiful wife.”

Elizabeth placed her hand on Lord Lansdowne’s sleeve. “For the time being, Grif, let’s not delve too closely into Coventry. Olivia is here for rest and a bit of entertainment. We’ll keep the remainder of the story our little secret for now.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

“My lady,” he directed to Olivia, “may I pour you a glass of sherry?”

“No thank you, my lord.”

Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Oh, we must stop this ‘my lord,’ ‘my lady’ business. It will be ‘Olivia’ and ‘Grif,’ if you please.”

Grif inclined his head. “As always, I bow to your wishes, my dear. I am honored to escort two lovely ladies in to dinner.”

Smiling, Olivia and Elizabeth each placed a hand on one of his sleeves and the group strolled toward the dining room.

Olivia had a wonderful time. They dined on roast pheasant, broiled salmon, with a flavorsome herbal sauce, small potatoes in butter, and pears poached in a sweet sauce. Several footmen poured wine and saw to their every need. Grif proved to be an attentive and amusing host. He skillfully skirted any reference to Coventry and kept them laughing with stories about gentlemen of the
ton
, but only those accounts fit for ladies’ ears.

“Dearest, we must be out early to Bond Street tomorrow for shopping.” Elizabeth and Olivia sat in the drawing room while Grif had retired to the library to enjoy his port.

“Shopping?” Olivia’s eyes shifted to her friend.

“Yes, you will need an entire new wardrobe for the Season. I know a fabulous modiste, who will love to dress you.”

Olivia frowned. “I had intended to have several gowns made up before I left Italy, but with Father’s passing and dealing with all of that, I never found the time. But, I’m afraid I haven’t any money to spend on clothing until my father’s finances are settled.”

“I beg to differ, dear friend. You are Lady Coventry with all the resources of his lordship.”

“I am also a very unknown and neglected Lady Coventry,” Olivia said wryly.

“No matter.” Elizabeth waved her hand in the air. “We will furnish you with a complete wardrobe and have the bills referred to your husband.” She viewed Olivia’s startled expression with a smirk.

Purchase an entire wardrobe and have the bills directed to Coventry?

How lovely that sounded. All her clothes were seriously outdated since their social life in Rome had been non-existent with her father’s propensity for isolation. “Am I permitted to do that?” She whispered, fearing the servants overhearing.

“Absolutely.” Elizabeth hopped up from the settee, her eyes sparkling with humor. “We will set off early, after breakfast. We have much to do.” She reached down and pulled Olivia to her feet and took her arm. They slowly strolled up the stairs, Elizabeth once again outlining all the lovely things they would purchase and how thrilled the modiste would be to dress Olivia with her stunning coloring and figure.