Lady Olivia And The Infamous Rake

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.’

‘And it will take much less time,’ Freddie said, with a rueful smile.

Sweat beaded his upper lip and he took out a handkerchief to dry it. Out of nowhere, three youths sped past, knocking him back. They snatched the handkerchief from his hand. Hugo grabbed Freddie to prevent him falling and, as soon as he was steady on his feet, he spun around, ready to chase the thieves.

Freddie held him back. ‘Leave it. They have gone.’

Sure enough, they had melted into the crowd.

‘Are you hurt?’

Freddie shrugged. ‘Only my pride, but I am accustomed—Hoi! Alex!’ He had straightened, craning his neck to see over the crowd. ‘I saw him, Alastair. Over there.’

Hugo dashed in the direction he pointed and, sure enough, there ahead of him was Lord Alexander Beauchamp and Neville Wolfe.

‘Beauchamp,’ he roared.

Alex swung around, searching the faces near to him. As he neared, Hugo could read the desperation in his eyes, the tightness in the set of his lips.

Alex grabbed Hugo’s arm. ‘Do you know where she is? You were with her. Neville here saw you both, but he lost you in the crowd. Where did she go, Alastair? What have you done to—?’

‘Hold hard there, Beauchamp.’ Hugo wrenched his arm from Alex’s grip. ‘Do not throw any accusations at me that you are not prepared to back up.’

He held the younger man’s gaze. Saw the leap of muscle as Alex clenched his jaw. Then Alex’s amber eyes widened and his jaw went slack. ‘Freddie? You here? Where’s Livvy?’

Neville Wolfe nudged Alex. ‘Not Livvy! Beatrice!’

Oh, God, they can’t even get their stories straight. Was I ever as wild and stupid as this pair of buffoons?

‘Lady Olivia is safe at home, no thanks to you pair of numbskulls. What the devil were you thinking, bringing your sister here and then abandoning her like that?’

Hot colour swept Alex’s face, but he scowled nevertheless.

‘There’s no harm done,’ he muttered. ‘I didn’t want to bring her...you don’t know what she’s like...kept going on about debts of honour and the word of a gentleman. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in it. She was supposed to stay put. She’s safe at home now, you say?’

‘Yes, thanks to Lord Hugo here,’ Freddie said.

Suspicion clouded Alex’s face. ‘You were alone with her? In a carriage?’

‘You would rather I had left her here? Alone and vulnerable?’

‘Clevedon said she went off to look for us. He didn’t say anything about her leaving with you.’

Hugo tamped down his irritation at young Beauchamp’s accusatory tone. He was well into his cups, by the smell of his breath. And it wouldn’t help to keep this escapade quiet if they had a stand-up argument here, with so many eyes and ears around.

‘I left later. I happened to come across her being accosted by some youths.’

Alex hung his head at that. ‘I know I shouldn’t have left,’ he mumbled, ‘but, well... Marie Shelton! You know how it is...’

Hugo did. That was the problem. He knew exactly how it was for Alex because, not so many years ago, that had been him. Only he didn’t have an impetuous and, seemingly, fearless younger sister to watch out for.

‘You should take care around Marie,’ he said. ‘She was put up to it by Sir Peter Tadlow, some scheme to get at your father through you. Did you meet up with him again, by chance?’

Alex’s flush deepened. ‘What if we did?’

‘What happened, Alex?’ Freddie asked. ‘What did Tadlow want?’

‘We had a friendly game of hazard, after...after...when we were on our way back to Clevedon’s box. And we were all to go on to a gaming club together, only then I remembered Olivia and I came back for her. It’s not my fault she took it into her head to wander off alone, is it?’

‘You stupid young pup,’ Hugo growled. ‘Stay away from that pair and from Marie Shelton. They’ll fleece you for all—’

‘What is it to you?’ Alex’s eyes blazed as he thrust his face close to Hugo’s. ‘It’s none of your concern what I do and who I do it with. I can take care of myself. C’mon, Nev.’

He pivoted on his heel and stalked away through the crowd. Neville, with an apologetic shrug, followed. Hugo heaved a sigh.

‘That,’ he said, ‘is an unhappy young man.’

Freddie’s brows rose and he gave a rueful smile. ‘He is. He is...difficult, far too ready to fly up in the boughs. Even his father struggles to get through to him at times. He heeds his aunt, Lady Cecily, and sometimes his uncle, but seems to harbour some deep-rooted hostility towards the Duke. The trouble is... I was asked to keep an eye on him while the Duke and my sister are away, but I simply cannot go to all the places he can.

‘That is why I feel I must tell the Duke about tonight, despite what Olivia wants. Someone must keep watch over Alex.’

‘What about Avon? Surely he is better placed than you.’

Freddie huffed a laugh. ‘They’re brothers. They get on well enough, but if Dominic tries to tell Alex what to do, Alex is just as likely to do the opposite. He can be like it with his father, too, only not so overtly—he has no choice but to accept his authority most of the time, especially now with the carrot of Foxbourne dangling in front of him.’

‘I’ll help you to keep an eye out for him,’ Hugo said, before he could censor his words.

‘You?’ Freddie eyed him with suspicion. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

Why indeed?

Hugo had made it his business in life never to put himself out for anyone and yet here he was...

‘He reminds me of myself at his age.’ That much was true, at least. ‘And it offends me that a man such as Tadlow would use a young man to punish his father. I should like to at least protect him from that. Only until his father returns, of course.’

‘In that case, I shall accept your offer with pleasure. The Duke should be back by midweek so it will be a weight off my mind if you can help me watch over him until then. Thank you. You will alert me if there is anything you feel I should know?’

‘Of course.’

Freddie bowed and then limped away, leaving Hugo to return to Clevedon’s birthday celebrations, which were still in full swing, but without the guest of honour. Nobody could tell Hugo where Clevedon had gone, or how long ago he had left, leaving Hugo with no choice but to resolve to speak to him the next day.

Tadlow and Marie were both there and Hugo joined their conversation. They already trusted him and he hoped to discover their plans for Alex, but Tadlow was too foxed to make much sense and, when his head sank to the table and his eyes closed, Hugo admitted defeat. He would have to try again when the man was sober. He tried to recapture the party spirit, but within half an hour he was stifling yawns and casting a jaded eye over the rest of the company as he wondered idly what the devil he was doing still there. His wandering gaze paused on Marie as her full lips stretched in a come-hither smile, one brow arching in invitation and her blue eyes aglow with promise. Hugo, however, felt not the smallest urge to respond. Instead, a pair of wide, black-fringed silver eyes materialised in his mind’s eye.

This time it was a curse he stifled. He drained his glass and stood up. Marie reached out, slipped her hand beneath his coat, and curved her hand around his buttock, squeezing, but Hugo sidestepped, out of her reach. Unsettled, and with a quiet anger humming through him, he could not wait to get away. He was in no mood for more of these people. They could go to hell as far as he was concerned.

‘Goodnight,’ he said abruptly and walked away.

Chapter Five

Olivia awoke the next morning with a woozy head and a vile taste in her mouth. She grimaced and cranked open her eyes. The maid had been in to open her curtains—she must have slept right through that—and the bright sunlight stabbed at her eyes. She screwed them tight and groaned. Then, as memories of the previous evening filtered into her consciousness, a feeling of sick dread settled in her stomach.

Mama’s necklace.

She rolled on to her side and curled into a ball, her head in her hands, fingers rubbing her temples as she tried to think of a solution.

All she could think was: Thank goodness Papa is away.

But would Freddie notice the necklace was missing?

She shot up into a sitting position, ignoring the nauseous roil of her stomach, and forced her eyes open. There, on her dressing table, were the bracelet and eardrops. She hadn’t even had the sense to put them in a drawer last night when she took them off. Had the maid noticed them? If she had, hopefully she would not realise their significance.

Olivia swung her legs out of the bed and levered herself to her feet, wincing as pain speared her temple.

How much punch did I drink last night?

And she had Lord Hugo Alastair to thank for that. Lord Hugo Alastair...legendary for his exploits, according to Alex and to the gossip of her friends. There had been much giggling and whispering behind their hands on the few occasions his path had crossed that of the young innocents out in society for the first time. And the most recent on dit—that his older brother, Lucas, was due back in town for the first time in six years—had stirred not only much excitement among some of their older sisters, but also the retelling of the most lurid tales of the infamous Alastair brothers—tales intended to act as a dire warning to beware of Lord Hugo and his ilk, but that instead merely intrigued.

No woman was safe, they had been told.

Hmmph. No woman is safe...except me.

She had been ready to fight him off in the hackney, but he had shown no inclination to even flirt with her, let alone kiss her.

I prefer my ladies willing. And experienced.

She supposed he had acted the gentleman, but it still rankled. She had become accustomed to young men courting her and paying her compliments, not ignoring the charms that others praised. He had scolded her and treated her like his sister. All her life she had striven to prove she was good enough for her brothers, only to be dismissed, time and time again, as a mere female and, even worse, a child. But Alex was only two years older than her, and Dominic three—that wasn’t so big a difference. Not like Papa and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Cecily, who was a full ten years younger than Papa.

Olivia went to the dressing table and scooped up the jewellery, a sharp memory of her mother rising from the past as she stared down at the rubies and diamonds.

Mama...seated at her dressing table as her maid clasped the necklace around her neck. The rubies had looked like drops of blood and the diamonds like chips of ice as they sparkled in the candlelight.

It was Olivia’s last clear memory of her mother—being pushed impatiently aside as she tried to touch the jewels...her mother snapping, ‘Oh, do get the child away from me. She will crease my dress...’ The maid scurrying to the door and calling for Nurse...being bundled from the room in tears at yet another rejection from her mama.

No matter how hard Olivia had tried to be the perfect daughter, Mama had been...uninterested. That was the word. She had been proud of her boys, as she had called them—although Olivia couldn’t recall her spending much time with her sons—but the only love and approval Olivia could remember from her childhood had come from her father, her uncle and her aunt.

Her throat thickened and she swallowed past the painful lump that had formed. Not long after that memory, she had been told her mother was dead. She had been just five years old...she barely understood at the time but, as she had grown, she had finally understood that she would never now have the chance to make her mother proud of her.

The sound of her door opening shook her from her memories and she quickly opened the drawer in front of her and flung the jewellery inside. She would put them back in the safe later.

‘How are you this morning?’ Nell’s violet eyes were wide with sympathy.

‘I am very well.’ Olivia ignored the pounding of her head. She did not deserve sympathy. She crossed to Nell and took her hands. ‘I am sorry for disturbing you last night, Nell.’

‘I do not mind, although I should have preferred it if you had told me your plans. Mayhap I could have persuaded you not to go...that it was a mistake.’

The mischief in Nell’s smile suggested she was well aware that Olivia would not have listened to her and, despite the guilt and worry causing Olivia’s stomach to alternately clench and roil, she laughed. They had been firm friends ever since their first meeting at the start of the Season, even before Nell’s stepsister and Olivia’s father had met and fallen in love.

‘Have you thought about how to get the necklace back?’

‘No.’ Olivia rang the bell for Hetty, her maid. ‘But I am sure I shall find a solution.’

‘And Freddie definitely does not know about the necklace?’

‘No. You have not told him, have you?’

‘No, not about the necklace, but I did tell him we spoke last night because he looked so worried I was almost afraid he would speak to Lady Cecily about it and she, of course, would be duty bound to tell your papa when he returns.’

‘Did Freddie find Alex?’

‘Yes, although he stormed off when Lord Hugo scolded him for putting you at risk. Freddie was quite impressed by his lordship... He has promised to help Freddie watch out for Alex until your papa comes home.’

Impressed?

Olivia pictured those lazy, mocking eyes and that hard edge to his smile as he goaded her into agreeing to a guinea a point. Now her head was no longer fuddled with the effects of punch, she realised Lord Hugo had seemed like two completely different men the night before. She had no trouble reconciling the Lord Hugo Alastair of notoriety with the bored, cynical man in the supper box, but the man who had come to her rescue, and who had escorted her home...safely...and who had, according to Nell, agreed to help Freddie watch over Alex...he was less easy to define. Which was the real man? She trusted Freddie’s judgement, but...what if it was an act and, somehow, Lord Hugo meant Alex harm? She’d told him things last night she would never normally reveal to anyone outside her family. Was he the sort of man who might use those revelations against Alex? One thing was for sure. Somehow, she must contrive to speak to Lord Hugo and try to make sure Alex was at no risk.

It is a pity I cannot so easily deal with Lord Clevedon—unless I reveal all and throw myself upon his mercy.

At the moment, that was her only hope. She had been scared last night by his insistence that she dine with him when she redeemed her necklace but now, having thought it through, she realised her disguise as a female of lax morals had prompted his treatment of her. Clevedon was a respectable and well-respected nobleman—if he knew Beatrice’s real identity, he surely would not still insist on her dining with him. Would he?

But...if I reveal to him that Beatrice was me, will he keep my secret? Or will he tell Papa?

Maybe, if she prayed most devoutly at church later, God might show her another way.

The door opened and Hetty came in with a jug of water. Nell squeezed Olivia’s hand.

‘I shall see you later.’

* * *

Reluctance slowed Hugo’s steps as he neared the Bruton Street town house where his mother resided with his new stepfather, Sir Horace Todmorden. His lack of enthusiasm did not stem from any disinclination to see his mother—he loved his mother and, despite his initial doubts about their whirlwind courtship and marriage last year, he had to admit Mama and Sir Horace were happy together. And having Mama living closer to hand—instead of at the far end of the country at Rothley—had proved more agreeable than he had anticipated.

No. His reluctance was entirely due to the fact that Mama was nobody’s fool. He inhaled deeply and then released that breath with some force. He must do this. He could not leave things as they stood. It was his fault Olivia had ended up playing to such high stakes and had been forced to pledge that necklace and it behoved him to set her mind at rest. He walked on with renewed purpose and rapped on the front door.

‘Good morning, Stape,’ he said as the door opened. ‘I’ve come to escort my mother to church.’

The butler’s eyes widened slightly, then he stepped back and bowed as Hugo strode past him into the house.

‘I shall inform her ladyship of your arrival, my lord, if you would care to wait in the salon?’

Not ten minutes later the door opened and Mama swept in, already dressed for church in a dark blue pelisse and matching hat.

‘Hugo?’ She crossed the room in her normal brisk fashion and placed both hands to his chest. ‘You are real.’ Her dark eyes twinkled as she looked up at him. ‘I felt certain Stape had made a mistake. I almost accused him of helping himself to the brandy while dear Horace is away.’