Chapter 11 #2
In a state of panic, she had blamed the heightened color that still warmed her cheeks on her insecurities about Anne and Warren’s relationship, rambling on and embellishing details like a ninny.
If she had shared the truth of what actually transpired in the guest chambers, she would have found herself standing in front of a reverend nine days too early.
After Ian stormed from her chambers, she remained hidden, afraid her features would reveal all in a household filled with individuals who were all far too intelligent for their own good.
As each hour passed, her ability to remain still dwindled.
Mind racing with all the possibilities of what Ian might do, she jumped off the edge of her bed and began to pace.
Ian wasn’t reckless; he was far too clever and controlled.
Would Warren refuse to see or talk to her again, like others had in the past after Ian paid them a visit?
She stopped in front of her door. Should she return to the Guernsey residence?
An image of Warren with a battered face made her reach for the latch, but she froze as booted footfalls echoed through the door.
Listening carefully, she determined it wasn’t Ian who was headed her way but rather Lord Camden, whose footsteps were lighter and quicker.
Olivia swung the door open, and standing not a foot away was Ian. He’d tricked her! She shifted slightly to her right to look behind the man who was gloating without the least bit of modesty and asked, “Where have you been?”
“Out.” While Warren retorted with questions, Ian’s favored responses were limited to one bleeding word at a time.
Olivia reached for his arm and pulled Ian into her room. “Well?”
Rather than answering, Ian meandered over to the window and pulled back the curtain to peer out at the barest streaks of dawn.
Once he let the material fall back into place, Ian turned on his heels and clasped his hands behind his back.
Jaw set in a stubborn line, he was clearly not in the mood to partake in conversation.
She tried again, this time softening her tone. “Do you agree with me that Lady Anne is far more suitable for the role of Warren’s wife?”
“No.”
“Why ever not?”
“It is as Warren claims. They care for one another like siblings. Their love for one another is not of the romantic sort.”
Her unladylike snort of laughter had her covering the lower half of her face with her hand. “And how would you know the difference?”
Ian crossed his arms over his chest and stared directly at her. “Trust me, I know.”
Her brows snapped together at his ominous tone. A tone he rarely used. She searched his face for clues as to what he was thinking but he’d donned the mask of indifference that he had mastered over the past few years, preventing her from reading his mind like she used to.
Returning to the edge of her bed, she sat with her back to him. Mayhap if she focused on his voice, which Ian had difficulty in masking, she might obtain some insight as to what he’d been up to. “It’s not a matter of whether I trust you or not; it matters what you think.”
“I think you are grasping at excuses.”
“I beg your pardon?” Olivia turned to glare at Ian, but he was facing the window once more.
“I had hoped that once you spent time with Warren, you would discover he was no longer the boy you had faithfully followed about and far from the man you imagined him to be.” There was a sadness in his tone that was foreign to Olivia’s ears.
He parted the curtains with a finger. “Lord Camden has matters to attend to overseas, but he is reluctant to leave Lady Charlotte in her condition. He has requested I go in advance until he can make the trip.”
“Why is he sending you, a footman?”
“I’ve been appointed as Lord Camden’s steward.”
She stood and directly marched up to him. Without hesitation, she poked him in the back. When he didn’t move, she poked again and only when he’d turned to face her did she ask, “Since when, and where is he sending you?”
“I can’t share that with you.”
Olivia had run out of patience. She wagged a finger. “Ian Brian Stuart McDougall, you had best tell me now or…”
Ian interjected, “Or what?”
Her mind came up blank. Who was this man standing before her? It certainly wasn’t the Ian she’d grown up with. No, this emotionless person was not her friend. “Ian…” She paused since the words she needed to breach the impenetrable wall he had erected were not forthcoming.
“Since I won’t be able to keep an eye on you, you shall have to be more careful. Promise me, no more traipsing about town in the middle of the night.”
In addition to the sadness she heard, there was weariness in Ian’s words.
Blast his ability to shield his emotions from his features.
With only the barest of inflections in his tone to interpret, Olivia began questioning if she was hearing things correctly or if her senses were simply over-heightened. “Why are you leaving me?”
“For my own sanity and because Lord Camden has ordered me to.”
“In the past, you have chosen to leave posts rather than leave town.”
It was Ian’s turn to chuckle, but his was forced and awkward. “You haven’t promised yet…”
“Very well. I promise not to wander about alone at night.” She searched his eyes. “Happy?”
The spark that normally flashed when he won an argument didn’t appear.
“In time I will be.” Ian finally smiled as he skimmed his palm from the top of her head to her shoulder. “Be yourself, Olivia, and all shall be as it should be.”
“I’m no longer a child.” She reached out for his hand.
“I know my touch won't harm anyone. Being a bastard doesn't mean I will spoil the souls of those who dare come close.” He pulled his hand away sharply, leaving her doubting her previous claims. The ache in her chest at his reaction prompted her to say, “You are the one who taught me that.”
“Then I shall leave knowing I’ve done all I could.”
Warren’s actions had left her dazed earlier, and now Ian was leaving her confused and frightened. “Why are you talking in riddles?”
“I’m not. I’m simply providing you with the best and most direct answers I can.” Ian gave her shoulder a pat, and then he moved to leave.
She captured him by the forearm, preventing him from striding away. “Why do I have the feeling I won’t be seeing you for a long time?”
“Since we were children, there hasn’t been a day when we haven’t seen or spoken to one another, which would mean an absence of two days might feel longer for us than others, but it is still forty-eight hours.” This time, Ian unwound her fingers one by one until he was free. “I’ll return.”
“When?” She couldn’t hide the panic in her voice.
“I can’t say.”
She jogged around him and stood in front of her door. “Again, with the can’t. Can’t this, can’t that. What can you tell me?”
He scowled down at her, and after what felt like an eternity, Olivia sighed. Defeated, she said, “Promise to keep yourself safe and return to me.”
“I promise to return,” Ian answered solemnly, then left her room without his usual reassuring smile or even a glance back.
Falling onto her stomach upon her bed, face pressed to her pillow, Olivia let the tears that she’d held back fall. Ian, like her mama, had left her. She was all alone now.