hand, deserved a proper start in life, and it was for that reason alone she feigned interest in Polite Society.
Her hard work was rewarded with unequivocal success. Even Dunsmore was impressed, and she’d sensed an almost imperceptible softening in his attitude toward her. He would be thrilled to learn that she was enceinte and that all of his machinations had the desired outcome, but the knowledge was too precious to share. She suspected he would take a perverse pleasure in obtaining the knowledge before Sebastian, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. It was the final act of kindness she would ever bestow upon her errant husband.
She’d been devastated when he left, weepy and despondent. Then she’d turned furious.
She remained furious.
Olivia set her glass of lemonade on the tray of a nearby footman before she snapped the delicate stem in half. Sebastian had broken his word, left her to fend for herself among the wolves while he ran from his troubles. She would never forgive him for that. Never.
“Trust me,” he wrote. Ha! He refused to trust her. Why should she be the only party in their marriage to extend such a simple courtesy?
“My lady, would it be too much to hope that you still have a dance available?”
Olivia turned at the sound of the familiar drawl, eyeing Carr Blake with a sigh. The man wasn’t truly evil like his uncle, just misguided and easily led. Regardless, she kept a close eye on him and maintained a rigid distance from his friendly overtures. The man had set out to deceive her in the most heinous manner imaginable, and that was an offense she would never forget. Still, she had appearances to maintain, and one of them was a feigned closeness to the Blake brood, distasteful as they all were. “Certainly. The set after next.”
His blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “I am a fortunate man.”
Again she was caught by the resemblance between Carr and Sebastian. They were very similar, both boasting shining black hair and startlingly blue eyes. But the resemblance was merely superficial. Carr was more like an exuberant puppy, while Sebastian was more of a panther on the prowl.
Olivia rolled her shoulders back and forced a smile, since most eyes were on her. Her relentless pursuit of the height of fashion had been a large part of her success, an expensive accomplishment achieved through her husband’s largesse.
She sighed audibly. She would gladly have given up everything if it would have won her Sebastian’s love. But it was too late for that now.
“Lady Merrick, I believe this next set has been reserved for me.”
Olivia turned. “I believe you are correct, Monsieur Robidoux.”
The dashing Frenchman bowed elegantly over her proffered hand. His golden beauty had won him wide regard with the members of the ton . It did nothing for her, but she flashed him her best smile.
He grinned as he escorted her to the gathering line of dancers. “You are even more ravishing tonight than usual, my lady.”
She arched a brow. “Thank you, monsieur.”
Robidoux had been brazenly forward with her since arriving in London a month ago, suggesting strolls through the gardens or drives in the park, all of which she refused. She braced herself at every meeting, his determination to be alone with her making her decidedly uncomfortable.
“Lady Merrick,” he purred in his unctuous voice. “The Dunsmore title is an old and respected one, I’ve been told. And yet the earl who inherits it is not in attendance. In fact, no one has seen hide nor hair of the man in over five years.”
She laughed—part in amusement, part in exasperation. The gossips were rife with speculation about the whereabouts of her husband. After all, it was odd for a missing man to suddenly acquire a wife. It was because of this unusual circumstance that Dunsmore’s assistance had been necessary to establish her credibility. “I assure you, Lord Merrick is not a figment of my imagination.”
Robidoux’s fingers
Her hard work was rewarded with unequivocal success. Even Dunsmore was impressed, and she’d sensed an almost imperceptible softening in his attitude toward her. He would be thrilled to learn that she was enceinte and that all of his machinations had the desired outcome, but the knowledge was too precious to share. She suspected he would take a perverse pleasure in obtaining the knowledge before Sebastian, and she refused to give him the satisfaction. It was the final act of kindness she would ever bestow upon her errant husband.
She’d been devastated when he left, weepy and despondent. Then she’d turned furious.
She remained furious.
Olivia set her glass of lemonade on the tray of a nearby footman before she snapped the delicate stem in half. Sebastian had broken his word, left her to fend for herself among the wolves while he ran from his troubles. She would never forgive him for that. Never.
“Trust me,” he wrote. Ha! He refused to trust her. Why should she be the only party in their marriage to extend such a simple courtesy?
“My lady, would it be too much to hope that you still have a dance available?”
Olivia turned at the sound of the familiar drawl, eyeing Carr Blake with a sigh. The man wasn’t truly evil like his uncle, just misguided and easily led. Regardless, she kept a close eye on him and maintained a rigid distance from his friendly overtures. The man had set out to deceive her in the most heinous manner imaginable, and that was an offense she would never forget. Still, she had appearances to maintain, and one of them was a feigned closeness to the Blake brood, distasteful as they all were. “Certainly. The set after next.”
His blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “I am a fortunate man.”
Again she was caught by the resemblance between Carr and Sebastian. They were very similar, both boasting shining black hair and startlingly blue eyes. But the resemblance was merely superficial. Carr was more like an exuberant puppy, while Sebastian was more of a panther on the prowl.
Olivia rolled her shoulders back and forced a smile, since most eyes were on her. Her relentless pursuit of the height of fashion had been a large part of her success, an expensive accomplishment achieved through her husband’s largesse.
She sighed audibly. She would gladly have given up everything if it would have won her Sebastian’s love. But it was too late for that now.
“Lady Merrick, I believe this next set has been reserved for me.”
Olivia turned. “I believe you are correct, Monsieur Robidoux.”
The dashing Frenchman bowed elegantly over her proffered hand. His golden beauty had won him wide regard with the members of the ton . It did nothing for her, but she flashed him her best smile.
He grinned as he escorted her to the gathering line of dancers. “You are even more ravishing tonight than usual, my lady.”
She arched a brow. “Thank you, monsieur.”
Robidoux had been brazenly forward with her since arriving in London a month ago, suggesting strolls through the gardens or drives in the park, all of which she refused. She braced herself at every meeting, his determination to be alone with her making her decidedly uncomfortable.
“Lady Merrick,” he purred in his unctuous voice. “The Dunsmore title is an old and respected one, I’ve been told. And yet the earl who inherits it is not in attendance. In fact, no one has seen hide nor hair of the man in over five years.”
She laughed—part in amusement, part in exasperation. The gossips were rife with speculation about the whereabouts of her husband. After all, it was odd for a missing man to suddenly acquire a wife. It was because of this unusual circumstance that Dunsmore’s assistance had been necessary to establish her credibility. “I assure you, Lord Merrick is not a figment of my imagination.”
Robidoux’s fingers
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