sufficient.
She’d stay in bed if she could, wallowing in the linens scented of his skin and their lovemaking, but her father was here and she had to attend to him. Olivia couldn’t conceive how she would manage to survive the day, but the effort had to be made.
In the dining room, she filled her plate from the covered platters on the sideboard. Then she preceded the footman to the parlor, where her father sat reading his paper.
“Good morning, Livy,” he greeted jovially.
“Good morning, Father.” She pressed kisses to each of his rosy cheeks, then moved to the small table and chairs in the corner. When the footman set her plate and juice on the table, she dismissed him with a smile.
“You look positively lovesick,” her father commented. “Are you that pleased with your husband?”
“I . . . yes.” She had been, before he broke her heart, but she would never tell her father that. There was no way he could have foreseen what would occur when he endeavored to marry her into a title. And truly, wasn’t this mess her own fault? She had known how Sebastian was when she’d determined to keep him. Only her own foolishness had allowed her to hope for more.
“I have to say, I had my doubts when I first saw him,” Jack admitted. “I know his type, wild and unruly. Not the sort of spouse a father would choose for his only daughter. But after speaking with him this morning—”
Her pulse leapt. “You spoke with him this morning?”
“Yes. We ate breakfast together. He doesn’t appear to be the scapegrace I first thought, though he has the looks for it. His handling of the situation last evening impressed me. He appears to be very protective of you, possessive even. I like that. He’s also astonishingly well versed in seamanship, seems not the least put-out with my work in trade, and . . . well, anyway, I found I liked him much better than that cousin of his, the one I thought was Lord Merrick.”
Olivia stifled a groan at the reminder. As if she hadn’t enough problems of her own to attend to, she was now inextricably bound to the rest of the Blake family, and what she’d seen of the brood so far left a marked distaste in her mouth. “Did Merrick mention his plans to you?”
Her father folded his paper and looked at her curiously. “He said he left you a note. Didn’t you read it?”
She was out the door in a moment, shouting for the butler. He came running out, panting with the effort to make haste. But he knew nothing of a note, so she lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs. She found a chambermaid making the freshly changed bed.
“Morning, milady,” the young servant greeted with a quick curtsy.
“Did you find a note for me?”
The girl nodded and moved to the end table, returning with a slip of folded parchment.
Olivia murmured her thanks and retired to her room to read the missive in private. It was simple and heartbreaking.
Trust me. I will return.
Yours,
S
She sank to the floor and cried.
Chapter Six
London, England, June 1813
Stifling a yawn, Olivia perused the ballroom with a jaundiced eye. The event was a crush, therefore the room was hot and, despite the profusion of flowers, smelly as well. She had no desire to be here, but Dunsmore had insisted she attend.
One would think that the last four months would have wrought some change in their feelings for one another, considering how closely they worked together to ensure her social success. But such was not the case. She detested the horrid man as much today as the day she had first met him. Unfortunately, left to her own devices, she’d had no recourse but to seek out the marquess’s assistance. She required his support to establish herself as Lady Merrick. Without him, the social acceptance that was due her would have been denied her.
Personally, Olivia cared nothing for the Beau Monde’s regard, and if she’d had any choice, she would have remained at home and licked her wounds in peace. Her child, on the other
She’d stay in bed if she could, wallowing in the linens scented of his skin and their lovemaking, but her father was here and she had to attend to him. Olivia couldn’t conceive how she would manage to survive the day, but the effort had to be made.
In the dining room, she filled her plate from the covered platters on the sideboard. Then she preceded the footman to the parlor, where her father sat reading his paper.
“Good morning, Livy,” he greeted jovially.
“Good morning, Father.” She pressed kisses to each of his rosy cheeks, then moved to the small table and chairs in the corner. When the footman set her plate and juice on the table, she dismissed him with a smile.
“You look positively lovesick,” her father commented. “Are you that pleased with your husband?”
“I . . . yes.” She had been, before he broke her heart, but she would never tell her father that. There was no way he could have foreseen what would occur when he endeavored to marry her into a title. And truly, wasn’t this mess her own fault? She had known how Sebastian was when she’d determined to keep him. Only her own foolishness had allowed her to hope for more.
“I have to say, I had my doubts when I first saw him,” Jack admitted. “I know his type, wild and unruly. Not the sort of spouse a father would choose for his only daughter. But after speaking with him this morning—”
Her pulse leapt. “You spoke with him this morning?”
“Yes. We ate breakfast together. He doesn’t appear to be the scapegrace I first thought, though he has the looks for it. His handling of the situation last evening impressed me. He appears to be very protective of you, possessive even. I like that. He’s also astonishingly well versed in seamanship, seems not the least put-out with my work in trade, and . . . well, anyway, I found I liked him much better than that cousin of his, the one I thought was Lord Merrick.”
Olivia stifled a groan at the reminder. As if she hadn’t enough problems of her own to attend to, she was now inextricably bound to the rest of the Blake family, and what she’d seen of the brood so far left a marked distaste in her mouth. “Did Merrick mention his plans to you?”
Her father folded his paper and looked at her curiously. “He said he left you a note. Didn’t you read it?”
She was out the door in a moment, shouting for the butler. He came running out, panting with the effort to make haste. But he knew nothing of a note, so she lifted her skirts and ran up the stairs. She found a chambermaid making the freshly changed bed.
“Morning, milady,” the young servant greeted with a quick curtsy.
“Did you find a note for me?”
The girl nodded and moved to the end table, returning with a slip of folded parchment.
Olivia murmured her thanks and retired to her room to read the missive in private. It was simple and heartbreaking.
Trust me. I will return.
Yours,
S
She sank to the floor and cried.
Chapter Six
London, England, June 1813
Stifling a yawn, Olivia perused the ballroom with a jaundiced eye. The event was a crush, therefore the room was hot and, despite the profusion of flowers, smelly as well. She had no desire to be here, but Dunsmore had insisted she attend.
One would think that the last four months would have wrought some change in their feelings for one another, considering how closely they worked together to ensure her social success. But such was not the case. She detested the horrid man as much today as the day she had first met him. Unfortunately, left to her own devices, she’d had no recourse but to seek out the marquess’s assistance. She required his support to establish herself as Lady Merrick. Without him, the social acceptance that was due her would have been denied her.
Personally, Olivia cared nothing for the Beau Monde’s regard, and if she’d had any choice, she would have remained at home and licked her wounds in peace. Her child, on the other
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