Chapter 5
It was exhausting, Olivia decided hours later, planning strategies of war with her arch nemesis, instead of against him.
When she’d insisted on marching straight inside to his odious friend and giving him what for, Alexander had threatened to carry her bodily from the property. And because she believed that he’d do it, she mutinously agreed to leave and meet him later this evening as previously arranged.
“We have a better chance of talking some sense into Jane when she sees how bad things can get around there,” he insisted. “If you go running in there now, they’ll only get sneakier about meeting. And don’t forget, there are a pair of them in this. It’s not only Elliot.”
She hadn’t been able to argue the toss because he was right. Jane was seemingly just as eager for her complete ruin as Mr. St. Clare was to provide the means.
The sky was already dark at this hour. And snow had started coating the ice-hard road beneath her boots.
She shivered in her velvet winter coat, wishing she hadn’t mutinously refused to wait in the earl’s carriage with blankets and a warming brick.
“You’re freezing,” Fincham’s voice sounded close to her ear and this time her shiver was very much not from the cold.
“I’m f-fine,” she answered stubbornly, but it was ruined somewhat by the chatter of her teeth.
Jane had tried to sneak out of the house unnoticed earlier, but Olivia had been on to her. Papa was presumably at another gaming hell, thinking he was going to save them all but more than likely pushing them further toward utter poverty.
Mama was having an attack of the vapours in her room.
An ordinary day in the Darington house.
As soon as Jane had slipped out, so too had Olivia. She dashed to the corner where Fincham had been waiting with an un-crested carriage as promised and jumped inside the luxurious interior. And now here she was. Freezing to death.
“Why don’t you just go and warm up. I made sure the carriage can’t be seen from the path. We can easily get you in there without anyone seeing.”
Olivia counted to ten before realising it didn’t help so she turned to glare at him, ignoring the way his eyes glittered brightly in the moonlight.
“I’m not going to get into a darkened, anonymous carriage with you, Lord Fincham.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I will stay out here and await the arrival of your sister and Elliot. You will get warm. I don’t want you falling ill.”
Olivia studied his face. He seemed sincere. As though he really cared about what happened to her.
But he had hurt her three years ago, and then he had infuriated her earlier today so she couldn’t let herself think he cared about her. It was too dangerous.
She pulled the edges of her cloak tighter and mutinously turned her back on him, ignoring his long-suffering sigh.
“If you think I’m going to run away like a meek little girl while you swoop in to save my sister, you are very much mistaken,” she snapped.
She had been snapping at him all evening, she knew. Or at least for the hour they’d been standing here. At one point, she’d been afraid she’d freeze over fully. But Olivia was ready for action.
If Elliot St. Clare thought he could drag his sister down Scandal Lane and ruin her, he had another think coming.
Olivia just prayed Alexander would actually help her.
She still didn’t fully understand his commitment to saving Jane but seeing the goings on around her scared her enough to be very grateful that he was here. Though she’d die before she’d admit it to him.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the scent of sandalwood that had been driving her slowly mad, and ignoring the heat emanating from where he stood only inches from her, she cast her gaze around once more.
Such an innocuous place.
Olivia didn’t know what she’d expected really.
Maybe something more flamboyant like the mazes and dark walkways of Vauxhall, or the back streets and cobbled danger zones of The Seven Dials.
But it was just a lane. Not that she knew much about the place, having only heard snippets of whispered conversations deemed too inappropriate for a young debutante’s ears.
It was quite pretty, in fact. Set far enough away from the main walkways that one could escape prying eyes if one wished, the trees that gave it its privacy were dusted with snow and oddly beautiful.
She’d been shocked when she’d first seen the women who looked like they should be standing by the docks and not in the middle of Hyde Park. Confused when she’d seen the young men standing about in much the same manner.
Then appalled when she’d seen a friend of her father’s stumble toward the darkness with a girl who couldn’t be older than Olivia herself.
And all the while, she was mindful of Alexander’s eyes watching her.
He hadn’t been at all enamoured with the idea of her being here.
But none of this was any of his business.
Not really. So she ignored the disapproval coming off him in waves and was secretly pleased that he was standing here with her while she waited.
And watched. And was secretly glad of his company.
Alexander released the death grip on his flask of whiskey and turned to glower at a drunken idiot who had begun eyeing Olivia from across the small pond near the entrance to the Lane.
The later it got, the more hedonistic things would get around here. And he didn’t want her around it.
Elliot and Jane hadn’t yet made an appearance and Alexander was worried that Elliot had lied to him or taken Jane elsewhere when he realised Alexander hadn’t been joking when he’d warned Elliot to behave himself.
He didn’t know how long they’d been standing here. Him fussing like a damned mother hen every time he spotted a shiver from Olivia.
Once again, he pressed the flask into her hand and once again she tried to shove it back at him.
“Brandy is about the only thing that’s going to keep you warm now, Olivia,” he said softly, one eye still on the dandy weaving his way toward them.
Alexander didn’t recognise the man which was a very good thing. He didn’t want anyone in his circle knowing Olivia was here.
“Fine,” she muttered before lifting the flask to her lips and gulping from it.
Immediately her eyes filled with tears, and she coughed and spluttered as she thrust the flask back at him.
“Ugh, that’s ghastly,” she complained.
“Well, you weren’t supposed to down it like a sailor,” he laughed.
Screwing the lid back on, he tucked it into the pocket of his greatcoat and turned and walked the couple of feet to see that his carriage and driver were still in position tucked behind a huge holly bush.
He’d told his coachman to sit inside when the snow began to fall in earnest. One of them might as well have the chance of getting out of here before freezing to death.
If they had to wait much longer, he was going to throw Olivia over his shoulder and carry her to the damned thing.
Turning back around to tell her so, his temper flared as he watched the blackguard who’d been watching her salivate all over her lurching into what he assumed was supposed to be a bow and pawing for her hand.
If he touched her one more time, Alexander would launch himself at the bastard and strangle him.
The evening was dragging, the brandy was having no good effect on his temper whatsoever, and now he was going to have to murder someone.
Alexander watched Olivia’s face closely as he ambled over. He wanted to give the appearance of being calm and casual lest the blackguard turn out to be a decent pugilist. Alexander wanted the element of surprise on his side.
Olivia suddenly looked over at him, directly into his eyes and all thoughts, violent or otherwise, fled from his mind.
Dear God in Heaven. She was extraordinary. A goddess. And his heart, he knew, had never been in more danger.
Olivia raised a brow, as though daring him. To do what, he had no idea, but it made him determined to win whatever this battle between them was. He could only hope, rather desperately, that she was going to be his prize.
Alexander made no effort to release Olivia from his gaze. He knew he probably looked brooding and intense, a look that had frightened many before her, but he couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.
His desire for her seemed a tangible force, reaching across the short distance between them to wrap her in its web. Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
This wasn’t what they were here for! He had brought her here like some damned knight in shining armour yet here he was fantasising about seducing her just as he was trying to prevent Elliot from doing so to Jane.
More and more, Alexander was becoming sympathetic to Elliot’s desire. If his friend felt for Jane even a fraction of what Alexander was starting to feel for Olivia…but that was just it. Elliot wasn’t falling in love with Jane Darington.
And surely Alexander wasn’t falling in love either?
Lord knew, he was starting to feel like he’d tear a man limb from limb if he attempted to keep Alex from being with Olivia. Was jealousy an indication of love? Was lust? She annoyed him and amused him in equal measure.
And at times, he’d genuinely feared for his life around the little termagant.
And yet -
All of this ran confusingly through his head as he finally came to a stop before Olivia and her drunken admirer.
The blasted idiot still had his left hand on Olivia’s person. This time, he was touching her upper arm, his thumb brushing along the velvet of her cloak.
Alexander’s tenuous grasp on his temper snapped.
“If you’re fond of that hand of yours, I suggest you remove it from the lady,” he said softly watching with a grim satisfaction as the young pup’s eyes widened.
“I’m not sure I follow,” the little upstart said now, but he had removed his hand from Olivia’s arm.
“Oh, I’m quite sure you do,” Alexander retorted softly.
He was gratified to see the other man’s throat bob wildly.
There was an uncomfortable silence which Alexander made no attempt to break since all his efforts were focused on giving the man one of his most vicious scowls.
Finally, the drunkard put up his hands in a symbol of surrender and started to back away.
“My apologies,” he said. “I didn’t know she belonged to anyone.”
Olivia gasped; no doubt angry at being spoken about as though she were a piece of property to be owned.
But Alexander was too distracted to contradict the lout. Too shocked at the feeling of desire that crashed into him. Not just the lust that he was coming to expect in her vicinity. But a desire to have her belong to him. And he, her.
He watched in silence as the man stumbled away.
“I don’t think they’re coming, Alexander,” Olivia’s soft voice broke the stilted silence.
“No, I don’t think they are.”
“So – should we go home?”
Home.
It sounded right. It sounded wonderful. Olivia and him. Going home together. Sharing a carriage, sharing a bed…
Alexander pulled out the flask and finished the contents in one, giant gulp.
He’d come out here thinking he would save Jane Darington from trouble. He hadn’t realised that the one who needed saving was him.
Olivia sat back against the plush cushion of Alexander’s carriage and let out a sigh.
“Damn and blast,” she whispered softly.
“Tut, tut, my beauty. Ladies surely do no swear.”
Alexander’s voice from across the carriage caused the most delicious of shivers to run down her back.
Olivia swallowed and turned her head to glare at him.
“We’ve utterly failed you know. This entire evening was a waste of time.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said cryptically. “I found it – informative.”
The look in his eyes heated the very blood in Olivia’s veins.
Oh, Lord. This was not good. Not at all.
Her heart was thudding most oddly, and Olivia had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She was starting to genuinely fear that what she felt for this man wasn’t ever going to go away.
As Olivia turned her head away, Alexander reached out and grasped her chin, pulling her face back around to face him.
She felt the impact of his touch right down to her freezing toes.
“You look incredible,” he said simply. “I don’t think I told you that.”
Olivia didn’t want to be thrilled at this simplest of gestures. But she was. And she knew then; she was lost.