Chapter 6
Richard searched through the townhouse with growing frustration, flinging open door after door and finding no sign of his sister. The morning room? Empty. The music salon? Silent. Olivia was nowhere to be found, and his patience—never abundant—was fast unraveling. Where in the blazes had she gone?
He came to a halt near the tall window in the corridor, bracing a hand on the sill.
The moment his eyes fell on the gardens below, he spotted her.
Olivia was pacing furiously along the gravel path that wound between the rose beds, her skirts swishing with each agitated turn.
Her posture was rigid, and her hands were clenched at her sides.
He couldn’t blame her. He had upended her world with little warning, presenting her with a new companion she neither expected nor welcomed.
But he hadn’t the luxury of easing her into the plan.
Time was not on their side—and Olivia, unpredictable as ever, was capable of sabotaging the entire scheme if he didn’t speak with her at once.
Without delay, he descended the stairs and strode out into the gardens, his boots crunching over the gravel. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue across the blossoms, but the beauty of the setting was entirely lost on him.
The moment Olivia caught sight of him, she spun on her heel and advanced towards him.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded.
He lifted a hand in an attempt to calm her. “I know you’re upset, but—”
“I’m not upset, I’m furious!” she snapped. “You brought that woman into our home—without so much as a word of warning!”
“She’s part of a larger plan,” he said carefully.
Olivia gave a humorless laugh. “If that’s true, then it’s a terrible one.”
“Would you calm down and come sit with me?” he said, gesturing to a wrought iron bench tucked beneath the shade of a lilac tree.
“I’ve never listened to you before. Why start now?”
“Five minutes,” he bargained. “Give me that, and I swear it will all begin to make sense.”
With a dramatic exhale, she marched past him and sat, crossing her arms tightly. “Three minutes. Starting now.”
“Very well,” he said. “I went to the village where you claimed Mr. Smith was from. He wasn’t there, but Miss Theodosia Smith was.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “And how is she connected to him?”
“I don’t know the exact relationship, but they are linked,” Richard said. “According to the locals, a man matching Mr. Smith’s description was seen leaving her estate. At night. Frequently.”
Olivia arched a skeptical brow. “That still doesn’t explain why you brought her here.”
“Because I’m using her as bait.”
Her head jerked back. “Bait?”
He nodded. “I brought her under the pretense of serving as your companion. If Mr. Smith truly cares for her, he’ll come for her. And when he does, he won’t slip away again.”
“You’ve gone mad,” she declared, standing abruptly.
“Mad or not, it’s the best strategy we have.”
“And you expect me to just... smile and play hostess to the woman connected to the man who humiliated me? Who married me for my dowry and then vanished without a trace?”
“You don’t have to smile,” Richard said. “But you will cooperate.”
“And what happens when Luke shows up?” she asked bitterly. “You can’t force him to return to me. You can’t make him stay.”
“No,” Richard agreed. “But I can challenge him to a duel.”
Olivia looked unimpressed. “A duel? That’s your plan?”
“It may not solve the problem,” he admitted. “But I assure you, it would be most satisfying.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t need to defend my honor, Brother.”
Richard took a step towards her, his tone turning tight. “I refuse to let him win. I refuse to let him vanish into the shadows and leave you broken.”
A new voice broke through the tension. “Good heavens, what are you two arguing about now?”
They both turned to see their mother standing at the edge of the gardens, her hands clasped loosely in front of her.
Olivia stormed past Richard. “Miss Theodosia is connected to Luke,” she stated. “And Richard tricked her into coming here so he could use her to lure him back.”
Their mother’s brows lifted, but her voice remained calm. “I see. And is Miss Theodosia complicit in all this?”
Richard folded his arms. “She’s no innocent. She’s protecting him, I’m sure of it.”
“And what proof have you?” his mother asked.
“A Bow Street Runner confirmed that Mr. Smith was seen leaving her estate on multiple occasions,” Richard replied. “That is enough for me.”
Their mother considered this in silence, her gaze steady. “Until we know the full extent of her involvement, she is to be treated with dignity and respect while she is under this roof.”
“That is more than she deserves,” Richard muttered.
“Nevertheless,” their mother said, “if you expect me to go along with this absurd plan of yours, I won’t have her treated poorly in my house.”
Olivia threw up her hands. “And I’m simply meant to pretend that everything is perfectly fine?”
“Yes,” Richard said.
“Yes,” their mother echoed, in perfect harmony.
Richard turned back to his sister. “Spend time with her. Speak with her. Earn her trust. She knows more than she’s letting on.”
Olivia crossed her arms again. “That’s distasteful.”
“Perhaps,” he said with a shrug. “But so was Luke’s betrayal. If this is how we get answers, then so be it.”
Olivia turned her face towards the towering facade of the townhouse. “I don’t need a companion,” she said. “And I certainly don’t want one.”
“I know,” Richard replied. “But ask yourself—do you want Mr. Smith to win?”
She drew in a slow, shuddering breath and let it out in a sigh. “No,” she said at last. “I do not.”
Richard stepped closer and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “You didn’t deserve what he did to you, Olivia. None of it.”
She shrugged off his hand as though the contact stung. “I need to be alone until dinner.”
Without another word, she turned and strode back towards the house, her back rigid.
Richard watched her go, a frown creasing his brow. A moment later, their mother’s voice broke the silence beside him. “She’s hurting, Richard.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s exactly why this plan has to work.”
His mother’s gaze settled on her son. “And if it doesn’t?”
“It has to,” he declared. “And when it does, Mr. Smith will be dealt with harshly. Swiftly. No one humiliates my sister and walks away untouched.”
She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “You’re angry.”
He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Of course I’m angry! Olivia eloped to Gretna Green with a man completely beneath her. A liar. A coward. And the moment he pocketed her dowry, he disappeared.”
His mother tilted her head slightly, her expression contemplative. “And tell me, who exactly are you more angry with—Mr. Smith, or yourself?”
Richard didn’t answer right away. He stared past her, jaw grinding, until finally he muttered, “I should have stopped her. I should have seen what was happening.”
“No one could have known what she would do,” she said. “She’s always followed her own mind, even when it led her into trouble.”
“I should have known,” he said again, quieter this time, as if the words tasted of guilt.
Her hand fell away from his arm. “Perhaps,” she allowed. “But what’s done is done. Now we must move forward together, as a family.”
He looked away, towards the rose gardens where his sister had paced only moments ago. “And the scandal?”
His mother’s voice was tinged with weariness. “It’s been relentless. The gossip columns, the whispers at every gathering. But it will fade, in time. They always do.”
“But our family’s name…” Richard looked down, a bitter taste on his tongue. “It’s been dragged through the mud.”
“It has,” she admitted. “But hiding away hasn’t helped. We’ve spent long enough in the shadows. It’s time to hold our heads high again, no matter how heavy the burden.”
Richard lifted his gaze to the sky, as though hoping for strength from the heavens. “It isn’t so simple.”
“I never said it was simple,” she replied with a faint, sad smile. “Only necessary.”
They walked in silence towards the house, the crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound for a moment.
“I’ve asked Miss Theodosia to join us for dinner,” his mother informed him.
Richard stopped short. “Why would you do that?”
She offered him a knowing look. “Because if we want her to feel welcome—truly welcome—we must make the effort to embrace her.”
He snorted. “Very clever. Keep your enemies close, is that it?”
“And what if she’s not the enemy? What if Miss Theodosia is entirely innocent in this?”
Richard gave her a sharp look. “Impossible. She knows something. I can see it in her eyes. She’s involved in Mr. Smith’s lies. I’m sure of it.”
“She seems rather sweet to me.”
“Sweet?” Richard repeated. “That is not a word I would ever use to describe Miss Theodosia. Stubborn, perhaps. Aggravating, absolutely. Obstinate beyond measure. Those are far more accurate descriptions.”
His mother gave him a sidelong glance, entirely unbothered by his vehemence. “Regardless, she is a beautiful young woman.”
“Her beauty has nothing to do with this,” he stated, as though the very suggestion was offensive. “You mustn’t let that fool you. She’s wearing a mask. Women like her always are.”
“Not always,” his mother murmured, a note of gentle rebuke in her voice. “But even if she is, isn’t it our task to see what lies beneath?”
Richard didn’t respond. His mind was already working—assessing, running through every interaction he’d had with Miss Theodosia Smith since he’d first appeared on her doorstep. There was something about her he couldn’t quite pin down. Something guarded. Controlled. And yet...
Doubt gnawed at the edge of his certainty.
He had no doubt that she was hiding something. But what exactly that was, he could not yet say.
His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Just remember to be kind to her,” she urged. “She’s far from home, surrounded by strangers, and likely feels terribly out of place.”