Chapter 14
Olivia felt like such a fool. She’d been looking forward to spending more time with Everett, but when she walked into the dining room, she saw him talking with Miss Bartlett—not only talking with her but giving her a brilliant smile as well. The one he’d given her only this morning during their ride. Not that there was anything wrong with him smiling. She certainly didn’t have any claims on him, and he could talk and smile at whomever he pleased. But it was the way Miss Bartlett was hanging on him with her own brilliant smile lighting up her face that shocked Olivia.
She’d mistakenly thought Everett was only interested in her.
How na?ve she was.
She should have kept her shameful past to herself. Now that Everett knew, she was convinced that he wanted nothing more to do with her. It would seem his understanding of her situation had only been momentary. What man would want to be with a woman who was afraid to be touched?
“Lady Armstrong,” Robertson said.
“Lord Robertson,” she said with a nod, walking into the room and going to the sidebar. She had to stop thinking of him as Everett, especially when he was clearly interested in Miss Bartlett. It felt too personal to use his given name now.
“May I prepare a plate for you?” he asked
“No, thank you. I can manage. Enjoy your breakfast, Lord Robertson.”
Lord Roberson nodded and took a seat at the table.
Olivia noticed that Miss Bartlett placed her plate next to his and sat down. That should have been her seat. To cover her hurt, she concentrated on piling a number of delicious foods on her plate. When she turned around and noticed how cozy Lord Robertson and Miss Bartlett appeared to be, she headed toward Bett and Mr. Hughes at the other end.
It was hard to ignore the conversation. Miss Bartlett’s excited voice carried across the room as the young woman continued to talk about the upcoming game of bowls.
“Lord Robertson, you couldn’t have picked a more skilled player. My daughter plays quite well,” Lady Bartlett said, taking a seat next to her daughter.
Even though she ignored him, Olivia felt Robertson’s eyes on her as she took her seat. She really didn’t want to hear Lady Bartlett sing her daughter’s praises, but the woman was also speaking quite loudly, and most of the other guests at the table were watching the scene unfold.
“My lord?” Lady Bartlett said.
Robertson turned toward her. “I beg your pardon. Did you say something, my lady?”
Lady Bartlett nodded. “I was saying how skilled my daughter is at bowls.”
Robertson nodded and went back to eating without comment.
Olivia was still smarting from the realization that she’d missed her opportunity to partner with Lord Robertson this morning when Lord John sat beside her. This was why she didn’t want to become involved with anyone. It had only been a few days, but as much as she wanted to deny it, she was craving Lord Robertson’s company more than ever.
She had her pride, though, and needed to show Lord Robertson that she was immune to his attention. Even if that was an outright lie. She hadn’t been immune to him since the first moment she saw him walking in the garden.
“Good morning, Lady Armstrong,” Lord John said.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Are you enjoying the house party?”
Olivia nodded and concentrated on her plate. Lord John was a pleasant fellow, but she didn’t feel much like talking, so for the rest of breakfast, just focused on her food. Bett kept looking at her, but she didn’t want to explain to her friend why she was upset because it was too embarrassing to admit that she was jealous of Lord Robertson’s attention to someone other than her. It was a house party, after all, and its whole purpose was getting to know a variety of people. She’d known that when she agreed to attend, but she hadn’t reckoned on losing her heart to one of the guests.
Lord Fleming stood and clinked his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, our first activity of the day is a game of bowls. It’s going to be another warm day, so let’s not tarry too long over breakfast. Once again, choose your partners with care, as the winning couple will get to suggest tonight’s activity, whether it be cards, charades, a musical evening, or anything they wish,” he said.
“If any ladies choose not to participate in the lawn game, there will be more sedate activities in the parlor,” Lady Fleming added.
“Lady Armstrong, would you do me the honor of partnering with me in the game of bowls?” Lord John asked.
Olivia looked up from her plate. She’d met Lord John Berkeley when she first arrived—he was the third son of a marquess and had been quite pleasant in the limited interactions she’d had with him. Against her better judgment, and maybe because she was still smarting from Robertson’s rejection, she said, “I’d be delighted, Lord John.”
“Excellent. I hope to make you proud in the game.”
“I’m sure you’ll do well,” she said without much enthusiasm,
After they finished eating, Lord John held out his arm. “Are you ready to play, my lady?”
Olivia stood and placed her fingertips on his arm. “Absolutely. Lead the way.”
She purposely did not glance at Lord Robertson. She’d see enough of him while they played the game. She smoothed her face into a neutral mask as they made their way across the lawn.
“Another beautiful day,” Lord John said.
Olivia was too busy thinking about Robertson and didn’t hear what he’d said.
“Lady Armstrong, are you well?”
She snapped her eyes to him. “Yes, I’m quite well, thank you.”
“You had a faraway look in your eyes.”
“Did I? I do apologize. I was thinking what a lovely estate Lord Fleming has. The gardens are magnificent.”
“Perhaps, after the game, you’d consent to take a stroll with me, and we can explore them together?”
It was one thing to accept Lord John’s invitation to play bowls in a fit of pique, but the last thing she wanted was to encourage him in any way. She had to figure out a reason why she couldn’t stroll with him that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. That was the last thing she wanted because he seemed like a decent gentleman.
“Perhaps. Shall we wait and see how the game goes?”
Lord John hesitated a moment before nodding. “Of course. What color mallet do you prefer? It seems we may be the first couple here.”
“I’ve always been partial to green.”
He pulled the green mallet from the rack and handed it to her. “And I shall take blue today.”
As soon as the rest of the couples collected their mallets, the game began in earnest.
“Liv, I’m surprised to see you with Lord John today,” Bett whispered when their balls were positioned closely together.
“Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to expand my social circle?” she asked.
Bett nodded. “I did, but I thought you were growing close to Lord Robertson?”
Olivia shrugged. “He seems quite enamored with Miss Bartlett now.”
Bett looked over her shoulder. “Is that so? I think you may have overestimated his esteem for the young lady if the frown on his face is any measure of his enjoyment in her company.”
That got Olivia’s attention, and she looked behind her. Miss Bartlett had made a very good shot and grabbed Robertson’s arm in her excitement, exclaiming, “My lord, we’re in the lead!”
Olivia didn’t bother to watch his reaction. “It’s of no concern to me who he partners with. Now, let’s not talk about this anymore.”
“Lady Armstrong, it’s your turn,” Lord John said.
Olivia studied her options before giving her ball a good whack. She couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction when she knocked Lord Robertson’s ball aside. It was petty of her, she knew, but she seemed helpless to control her jealousy.
Jealousy?
Was she jealous of Miss Bartlett? Was that what this unsettling feeling was?
As the game progressed, she realized she’d made a mistake in partnering with Lord John. He wanted them to spend more time together after the game, mentioning it three times while they played the course, and it was the last thing she wanted to do this afternoon. She was not one to transfer her interest so readily.
In the end, Robertson and Miss Bartlett prevailed and won the game, and the young lady squealed with delight. The guests clapped and congratulated the winning couple.
“Lady Armstrong, you played a brilliant game. May I fetch you a glass of lemonade?” Lord John asked while putting away the mallets.
Here was the perfect moment for her to escape, and she wasn’t above telling a little fib. “No, thank you, Lord John. I must return to my room. Please excuse me,” she said, turning and quickly walking away, hoping that the persistent lord didn’t follow her.
She hurried back to the house but had only gotten halfway there when she heard footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace, thinking Lord John had followed her after all.
“Liv, wait!”
Olivia stopped and turned to see Bett hurrying after her.
“Are you well? You left so abruptly,” her friend asked.
“I’m fine, just a bit tired. That’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s all?”
“Bett, I’m fine. Please let it be. Shouldn’t you be spending time with Mr. Hughes?”
“Not now. The gentlemen are going off shooting, and I have no interest in joining them. I hate to see you sad. This was supposed to be fun.”
“There’s no need for you to worry. I’m fine, and the house party is fun.”
“Really? Your face tells a different story.”
“Bett, I can’t talk about this now. Can you leave it be, please?”
“Of course. I apologize if I’ve overstepped. Come. Let’s go see what Lady Fleming has planned for the rest of today.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Olivia said, intwining her arm with Bett’s.
When they got to the parlor, Lady Fleming was explaining that an outing to the local village was planned next. “Everyone who wishes to go should meet out front by the carriages in ten minutes.”
“That sounds like fun. Shall we go?” Bett asked.
Olivia nodded. “Yes. It’ll be a good diversion.”
“A diversion, hmmm? What or who do you need a diversion from?” Bett asked with a wink.
“You’re incorrigible,” Olivia said with a chuckle. Her friend knew just how to cheer her up, even though it was only momentarily. She was still reeling from Lord Robertson’s rapid switch of interest to Miss Bartlett. After she’d insisted to Bett before they arrived that she wasn’t interested in finding anyone new, it was embarrassing to now admit that she was definitely interested in Lord Robertson.
After they went upstairs to collect their gloves and recticules, Olivia and Bett joined the other ladies as they headed outside to the carriages.
None of the gentlemen decided to join them, and Olivia was relieved to hear that. She was also happy when Miss Bartlett and her mother declined the invitation to the village as well. Perhaps Miss Bartlett thought she could spend more time with Lord Robertson if she stayed behind. It certainly was of no concern to Olivia what the young lady decided to do.
A footman helped them into the carriage for the short ride. The local village was quaint, with a general goods store, a bookstore, a modiste’s shop, a blacksmith’s, and various other shops.
Bett and Olivia found some lovely ribbons and new kid gloves at the modiste’s. “These are so soft,” Bett said, holding up a pair of gloves.
“I agree. I’m going to get a few pairs of them myself,” Olivia said.
After leaving the modiste’s shop, they perused the shelves at the bookstore and were quite pleased with the selection of novels. Olivia picked up Mansfield Park by Jane Austen. “Have you read this one yet?”
Bett nodded. “Yes, it’s very good. Oh, look, they also have Emma. I’ve been wanting to read that for a while but haven’t gotten around to getting a copy.”
“Looks like both of us will have some entertainment tonight,” Olivia said.
“Perhaps, but then again, there are other entertainments available tonight,” Bett said with a wink.
Olivia felt the blush rise up her neck. She knew Bett liked Mr. Hughes, but she’d had no idea her friend would entertain the thought of going to his bed. Did she want that with Lord Robertson? To be in his arms and finally enjoy relations with a man for the first time in her life? She gave herself a mental shake.
No! That’s not what I want.
Or was it? She didn’t really know anymore and was more confused than ever.
When they returned from the village, she felt drained and opted to retire to her bedchamber and read for a while. She didn’t see Lord Robertson on her way upstairs, and that suited her just fine. It seemed the men were still out shooting.
The time apart helped calm her hurt feelings and confusion about why she felt so unsettled at the thought of him spending time with Miss Bartlett. How could she feel such a strong connection with him after only a few days? Had Armstrong left her so starved for pleasant words that any hint of admiration from a man had her head spinning? Or was it because that admiration was coming from one particular man? An impossibly handsome man with honey-blond hair and a devastating smile.
She sat in the chair by the window, trying to enjoy the peaceful view, but her mind wouldn’t quiet, going around and around in circles, thinking about Lord Robertson. She wanted to be with him, but could she trust him? That was unfair. He’d proven to be quite trustworthy so far, and Olivia did crave his attention. Perhaps she’d been hasty in her earlier judgment. Round and round her thoughts swirled, with no apparent answer for her conflicted mind.
An hour later, a knock on her door brought her out of her musing, and Emma walked in. “Good evening, Lady Armstrong. Are you ready to dress for dinner?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Emma chose the green silk dress—one of Olivia’s favorites. She knew it highlighted her eyes and secretly hoped that Lord Robertson would notice her, not that she wanted him to.
Absolutely not.
Besides, he was now enamored with Miss Bartlett. It was just as well because she had no idea where this short interlude could have led, if anywhere.
“My lady, you look stunning. Green is definitely your color,” Emma said, weaving one of her new ribbons in her hair. “All done.”
“Thank you, Emma. I’ll see you later,” Olivia said, pulling on her gloves and heading downstairs.
When she walked into the parlor, there was no sign of Lord Robertson, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The muscles in her stomach unclenched as she walked toward Bett and Mr. Hughes, who were standing by the fireplace enjoying a drink before dinner.
“Good evening, Lady Armstrong,” Mr. Hughes said with a nod and smile.
“Good evening, Mr. Hughes.”
“You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you. Does Lady Williams look striking this evening?” she asked.
Mr. Hughes looked at her friend. “She does indeed.”
A footman walked around with a tray of sherry, and she took a glass. Her back was turned toward the door, and she didn’t notice when the one person she didn’t want to see came up behind her.
“Lady Armstrong, a pleasure to see you this evening,” Lord Robertson said.
His deep baritone voice rumbled through her and sent shivers down her spine. She turned around, and her breath caught. He was so devastatingly handsome in his black evening wear. It wasn’t fair that such beauty should be bestowed on a man. As much as she tried to ignore the rapid beating of her foolish heart, there was no denying that she was attracted to him. How could she have such a strong reaction after such a short acquaintance?
This was not good, not good at all.