Chapter 18
Robertson watched Olivia flee from his sight. He’d been shocked to feel the crisscross of scars across her back. What monster did that to a young woman? He’d heard stories about Armstrong, but he hadn’t paid much attention to them at the time. Now he regretted that more than he could say.
He never should have lingered in the parlor so long, but he’d been talking with Miles… unfortunately giving Pressley the opportunity to beat him to the garden.
Pressley would rue the day he ever laid hands on Olivia. He knew the young buck’s father and would have a word with him, in addition to getting him banned from every club Robertson was a member of. A few well-placed whispers in the ears of some very influential hostesses that he would not attend their event if Pressley was invited should seal the deal. Pressley would have no choice once all those pieces fell into place—he’d either have to rusticate in the country for a good long while or go abroad. Robertson didn’t care which option he chose as long as he paid for his transgressions against Olivia. It would also save any young lady in the future from being mistreated by him.
He went back inside and found Noah talking with Miles.
“Where’s Lady Armstrong?” Noah asked. “Didn’t you just go out to the garden to meet her?”
“There was a bit of an incident out there.”
“What do you mean?” Miles asked. “What kind of incident?”
“Pressley.”
“That bloody bastard,” Miles exclaimed. “I warned him to stay away from the lady.”
“Well, he didn’t heed your warning, but he’ll pay the consequences,” Robertson said before explaining his plan to ban Pressley from as many places in London as he could.
“Let me inform Lady Williams what has happened. She’ll want to go to her friend,” Noah said, striding off toward the refreshment table.
Robertson was at a loss for what else to do. Olivia didn’t want to see him. He could understand her being upset, but he’d thought they’d grown close enough for her to confide in him. He’d believed his actions this week had conveyed the depth of his admiration for her and thought she understood his feelings, but something was wrong.
When he’d told her how much he admired her—more than any other woman of his acquaintance—she’d stiffened before rushing away.
What had he done to make her even more upset?
He had no idea.
Olivia breathed a sigh of reliefwhen she entered her bedchamber. No one had seen her come upstairs or witnessed the state of her dress.
Some men were beasts and, in her opinion, irredeemable. To lay hands on a woman was a cardinal sin in her book. She’d had enough of that during her marriage and never wanted to be in that position again.
She was so grateful that Everett had found her.
Everett.
She’d thought he was the one—the one that made her heart sing with joy at the mere sight of him, the one that made life worth living. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way. Admiration wasn’t nearly enough to tempt her into marriage again.
She wanted love and a true partnership. There could be no other way for her.
A knock on her door threw her into a panic. No one must see her in this state.
“Liv, it’s me. Please open the door.”
Olivia exhaled in relief and rushed to unlock and open the door.
“Oh, Liv,” Bett said as she squeezed inside and closed the door behind her, locking it again. “Mr. Hughes said something happened in the garden and you needed my help.”
Olivia nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks again.
Bett looked at her still holding the front of her dress against her chest, and inhaled sharply. “Who did this to you?”
“Pressley,” she sputtered between sobs.
Bett was momentarily stunned but quickly moved to Oliva. “My dear, let me help you out of that dress.”
Olivia nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh Bett, everything’s ruined now.”
Bett shook her head. “It’s nothing of the sort. No one saw you leave the garden, according to what Mr. Hughes told me. Your reputation is intact.”
“Lord Robertson saved me from Pressley’s attack.”
“I’m glad he was there for you.”
“No, you don’t understand. When he was comforting me, he felt the scars on my back. They disgusted him—I saw it in his eyes.”
“Scars?” Bett asked as she helped Olivia step out of the ruined dress.
Once free of the garment, Olivia turned around so Bett could see her worst nightmare.
Bett gasped. “Oh, Liv! Did Armstrong do that to you?”
She nodded.
“I’m so sorry that bloody monster did that to you. I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Not as glad as I!” She caught her breath on another sob. “But Lord Robertson seeing my scars wasn’t the worst of it.”
“It wasn’t? What else happened?”
“After Lord Robertson said that no one should endure what I had, he told me he admired me.”
“Admired you?”
“Yes, nothing more. Oh, Bett, I’ve gone and fallen in love with him, and he doesn’t return my feelings.”
“Did you tell him how you feel?”
“No. I was about to when he said that. Now everything’s ruined. I could never marry a man who merely admired me.”
“Marry? Did Robertson, by any chance, propose?”
“No, and I wouldn’t have accepted unless he confessed he loved me. I fled the garden after he said it was merely admiration he felt for me. Bett, I know you’re enjoying yourself here, but I must leave. I can’t stay here and face him after what happened tonight.”
“I can only imagine how distraught you are. Of course I’ll come with you. Unfortunately, it’s too late to leave now, but we can be gone first thing in the morning before any of the other guests are awake. Will that do?”
Olivia hugged her friend. “Thank you for understanding, Bett. I’m so sorry to ruin the party for you.”
“Liv, you’ve done nothing of the sort. I’ll leave a note for Mr. Hughes. Do you want to leave one for Lord Robertson?”
“No. I have nothing more to say to him.”
“Shall I stay with you tonight?”
“Would you? I’d greatly appreciate that.”
“Of course. Let me help you into a night dress before I return to my room to change. Then I’ll return.”
“Thank you, Bett. You’re such a dear friend. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything I had suffered in my marriage. I was too embarrassed and thought I deserved his punishment.”
“Liv, no one deserves to be treated like that, especially not you. Now, I will return very shortly, and we can talk more if you wish.”
“Thank you, Bett.”
As Bett was leaving, Emma walked into her bedchamber. “Lady Armstrong, are you well?” When Olivia turned to her maid, Emma was baffled at her swollen red eyes. “You’ve been crying? Whatever happened to make you so upset?”
“I’m fine, Emma, but I want to leave at first light tomorrow. Please pack up my things so there’s no delay.”
“Of course, my lady.” Emma bent down and picked up the ruined dress but wisely did not comment.
It didn’t take Bett long to return. “I’ve asked Lydia to fetch us some tea, my dear.”
“A nice hot cup of tea sounds heavenly.”
The two women talked softly in the chairs by the fireplace while Emma bustled around the room, packing Olivia’s things into her traveling trunk.
Soon, Lydia arrived with a tea tray. “Will there be anything else, Lady Williams?”
“Yes. We’ll be leaving at first light. Please be sure everything is packed and ready to go.”
“Of course,” Lydia said with a curtsey before exiting the room.
Olivia felt better with Bett in the room with her. Her friend was a great comfort to her especially in her fragile state. Otherwise, she knew she’d cry uncontrollably and was afraid that Pressley’s attacks would trigger more nightmares about her horrific treatment at the hands of Armstrong. Tonight’s attack had terrified her and she didn’t want to think about Pressley or Armstrong ever again.
At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Everett coming to visit her this evening. She doubted very seriously if he’d ever want to be with such a broken and scarred woman. She’d tried so hard to get past her trauma, but maybe there was nothing to be done about it.
No one would want such a damaged soul as a wife. It would take her a long time to get over Robertson, but she would do it. She vowed never to fall for a man again. Even when there was love involved, it inevitably led to heartache.
Early the next morning, as the sun was peeking over the horizon, the two women left the Fleming manor before anyone except the servants were up and about.
Robertson awoke with a start. Something had disturbed his sleep, but he didn’t know what it was. Had he been dreaming? He’d thought he heard the clip-clop of horses’ hooves.
He threw back the covers and walked to the window. A low fog clung over the meadow beyond the formal gardens. The garden where Olivia had been assaulted. She would probably not want to visit it anymore. It was the worst thing that could have happened… and after she’d gained so much self-confidence during the house party….
Would she even come to the stables this morning?
He desperately needed to speak with her to make sure she’d recovered from her ordeal.
Bryer poked his head out of the dressing room. “My lord, you’re awake early. Do you wish to ride this morning?”
Robertson nodded and quickly washed before getting dressed. “No waistcoat or cravat. I shall return shortly to dress properly,” he said to his valet.
“Of course, my lord.”
There were two more days left of the house party. He’d felt such anger when he’d felt the scars on her back. No one deserved to be treated that way, and he’d wanted to comfort her, but she’d pulled away from him, which puzzled him a great deal. He longed to kiss Olivia’s sweet lips and see her smile once again.
He made his way down the stairs and out the door, striding to the stables.
“Good morning, Lord Robertson,” the stablemaster said.
“Good morning.”
“I’ll have Hades saddled for you in no time.”
“Do saddle Clara as well. I’m expecting Lady Armstrong to join me.”
The stablemaster looked at him, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Lord Robertson, but Lady Armstrong isn’t here.”
“What do you mean she’s not here? Has she already gone out?”
“No, my lord. I mean she’s left the estate.”
“She left? When?”
“At first light. She and Lady Williams departed together.”
“I see. On second thought, no need to saddle Hades. I won’t be riding today.”
Robertson walked back to the house in shock, a deep well of sadness bubbling to the surface. It must have been their carriage leaving that had woken him earlier. Olivia had left without a word of goodbye. Why would she do that? He had no idea, but now that she was gone, he saw no reason to stay any longer. He needed to round up Noah and Miles and head home.
It was time to get back to London, where he was in control and nothing could hurt him.
He was the Earl of Ice, after all.