Chapter Fifteen #4
Olivia watched him turn toward the stairs and listened for the diminishing sound of his footfalls.
When the noise from below covered them, she finally shut the door and leaned heavily into it.
She closed her eyes against the rush of emotion and still she trembled with it.
There’d been no running from him this time, no withdrawing into herself.
She’d faced him down, and every part of her felt the effort now as a physical pain.
She had no idea how long she remained there, but she never once felt any urgency to move.
It was only when her heartbeat calmed and the wave of sickness passed that she pushed away from the door and went to the fireplace.
She removed her wig and tossed it aside, then rubbed at her face with the back of her hand to erase the artifice of powder and paint.
After plucking the pins from her hair, she shook it out and combed it with her fingers.
A wave of ginger curls framed her face and fell softly over her shoulders.
She caught all of it in one fist and ruthlessly pulled it back.
Olivia examined herself in the mirror, not for evidence of any injury that Sir Hadrien might have done, but to see if she was marked from her struggle with him in some other, more subtle way.
She’d survived a battering, and the blow he’d struck was the very least of it, but what she observed in her face, in her carriage, was not a wounded warrior, but one already healed and made stronger by experience and sense of purpose.
And also so bloody tired.
She released her hold on her hair and smiled wryly at her reflection, acknowledging the limits of a healed soul and strength of character.
Bone weary, she wanted nothing so much as to lie down.
She picked up the rug lying over the back of a wing chair, removed a stack of books from the foot of the chaise, and lay down.
Mason could manage the faro table for a while longer, she decided.
It was her last thought before she fell deeply asleep.
Griffin found her there well over an hour later, though coming across her in the study was happenstance rather than planned.
He’d removed himself from the gaming rooms only a few hours after they’d opened the doors to look in on Nat.
The battle being waged in the boy’s room was one that Griffin had discussed at length earlier in the day and rather than insist Nat resume Caesar’s conquest of Gaul on the morrow, Griffin dropped to his knees and took up the cause of the soon-to-be-defeated army.
They’d positioned their men around the table and chair legs to lend the illusion of the forest that divided the Roman and Gaul forces.
Nat’s new major general was now Gaius Julius Caesar, credited to be a wily commander in the field.
Griffin’s men put up a good fight, but they were no match for the trained and disciplined soldiers from Rome.
The end came exactly as history dictated it should, and after surrendering to Caesar, Griffin hauled Nat up, slung him over his shoulder, and dropped him on the bed.
He did not know how he’d been convinced to join the boy. Certainly his own father had never done the same with him, yet Griffin allowed that it was not an unpleasant task to keep the child company until he slept. What he had not anticipated was drifting off in a like fashion.
Griffin found a spot on the chaise where Olivia’s bottom curved out and her knees curled in, and he sat.
The rug was haphazardly drawn across her.
Her feet poked out at the bottom and her shoulders were bare.
He set his candle on the stack of books that had been moved from the chaise, then gently shook Olivia’s arm.
She stirred but did not open her eyes. Her response was sufficient to make Griffin stop shaking her arm and stroke it instead. She liked that infinitely better and murmured her pleasure to make certain he knew it.
“Are you well?” he asked.
Olivia nodded. “Merely fatigued. Have I slept long?”
“I don’t know.” He explained the cause of his disappearance from the gaming rooms. She rewarded him with a beatific smile that made his heart trip over itself.
He bent his head and kissed her cheek. “You were still at the faro table when I left and doing most excellently. Did William and Bennet Allworthy trouble you at all?”
She snapped her fingers. “Allworthy. Of course. I could not recall their name. I’m afraid I left their comeuppance in Mason’s hands.
” She cocked her head toward the mantel, opened one eye, and regarded the clock.
It was gone midnight. That put her on notice immediately.
She bolted upright, narrowly missing bumping heads with Griffin.
“I need to get back. Mr. Mason must wonder what’s become of me. You also.”
“Not enough, apparently. He has not sent anyone to find us, has he? You know what explains it, don’t you?”
Olivia shook her head as she threw off the blanket.
“Lady Rivendale.”
She stopped wrestling with that part of her gown that was trapped under her legs and stared at him. “Lady Rivendale? You think she’s come in?”
“It would not at all surprise. Would you care to wager?”
“I never bet against the house.” She resumed tugging on her gown and allowed Griffin to assist her. “Would she know my father, I wonder?”
“I couldn’t say. She knows who you are, though.”
“She does?”
“I assume it occurred through her connection to Restell Gardner. Pray, do not ask. Her family tree is surprisingly full-branched in spite of the fact that she has no children of her own.”
Olivia considered that, then offered a somewhat guilty confession. “I’m not certain, but I might have given myself away. She has a way about her, it’s all I can offer as an excuse.”
“It doesn’t matter. She knows everything and is above all discreet.
” He frowned a bit as she turned her head.
“Olivia?” He caught the underside of her chin with his fingertips and nudged it sideways so that he might have a better view of her cheek.
“What happened? That is no pillow wrinkle. Your face is scratched.”
She touched her cheek. “Is it?” She’d looked right past it when she’d studied her reflection earlier. “He wore a ring. I suppose that explains it.” Her skin was faintly warm, but that was a consequence of sleep, not a lingering response to the blow that had pushed her off her feet.
“He?” asked Griffin, but he was already working out the answer. Olivia’s offhanded inquiry about her father and Lady Rivendale suddenly made sense. “Sir Hadrien is here?”
“Was here. He’s gone now, or he should be.
I showed him the door, more or less. I do not imagine he is lurking in the gaming rooms. He was disdainful of them, Griffin, and suggested that I was squandering my talents here.
” Amusement laced her voice, and she smiled as she shook her head, inviting Griffin to find the humor as well.
“He made reference only to cards, but he meant I should apply it to other things as well. Why work in the service of one man when I might work in the service of so many? You will know I was not tempted in the least, so he will likely arrive tomorrow and demand an audience with you. I will be gone, of course, because there is nothing left to be said that I did not already put before him.”
Griffin stared at her. He spoke slowly, trying to make sense of the incongruity between what she said and how she said it.
“Your father appeared without invitation or notice, suggested you’d make a better courtesan than a mistress, struck you hard enough to leave his mark, and you find cause there for amusement? ”
“Do not forget he was disdainful of your hell.”
“Yes, well, I shall plant him a facer for that,” he said dryly. “As to the rest…” He paused, searching for a manner of death for Sir Hadrien that was outside the common mode.
“As to the rest,” she said, “it is already done. My honor is satisfied.” She took Griffin’s hand in her own. “You did that for me, Griffin. I knew I could be strong because you expected I would be. I believed you first, then I believed in myself.”
“I’m very glad to hear it, but it doesn’t mean you should stand against someone like Sir Hadrien on your own. Good form requires that each participant choose a second. I would have been honored to be yours.”
Olivia gave him a wry smile. “I had not realized you put such stock in good form.”
Griffin shrugged. “When it serves.”
“You will have your chance with him. Did you not hear me say he will probably return tomorrow? I suggested that he do so in the afternoon when I will be gone, though if you cannot promise that you won’t challenge him, I will have to remain and act as your second, if only for the purpose of restraining you. ”
“Restrain me? How do you imagine you might accomplish that?”
“Telling you would eliminate the advantage of surprise, and I will be counting heavily on that.”
He chuckled. “Very well. I will allow that you can do whatever you set your mind to and have done with speculation. Where will you be tomorrow if Sir Hadrien does indeed seek me out?”
“I am taking Nat to be fitted for some new clothes. Mr. Mason will accompany us, so have done pulling that disagreeable face.”
“I can have someone come here to fit Nat.”
“Then I wouldn’t be gone from the house, now would I?”
“I have a suspicion that you’ve been planning this, and your father’s arrival is a convenient reason to have it done.”
“I frequently marvel at your perspicacity.”
He could not think of anything to do about her saucy mouth except to kiss it. He felt the shape of her smile beneath his lips before she eagerly gave herself over. It was only with the greatest reluctance that he eventually pulled back instead of drawing her down on the chaise.