Chapter Twenty-Nine
11:23 p.m.
Olivia touched the door to Tiern-Cope’s office, but hesitated before making herself known. For this one moment, just one moment more, her life was the same as ever. And after she went in? Nothing would be the same, she believed that to her core. With a deep breath, she tapped on the gilt panel.
“Enter.”
She went in, smoothing her velvet skirt. Edith had helped her dress again, without any objection whatever to her leaving her bed. “My lord.”
Tiern-Cope faced the window, hands clasped behind his back. A spark of awareness shot through her and made her stop rather than continue in. His broad shoulders were a familiar sight now, which surprised her. She’d not realized how used she’d become to him.
He turned. “Olivia.”
She didn’t move, and neither did he.
“Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I want to know what’s happening.”
“You’re beautiful in that gown.”
A hush settled over the room, and Olivia filled it by closing the door. Her fingers trembled. “Thank you.”
“Sit.”
She did. “My lord.”
“Can you not call me Sebastian?”
Her heart tripped. “I don’t think so.”
“He’s not here. The Black Earl.”
“I know.”
“So, for the moment, we are safe from that madness.”
“I don’t feel safe.”
“With me? You know you are safe with me.” He inhaled. “How long have you been seeing the Black Earl?”
“A few days now. You?”
“Since I came to Pennhyll.” He walked to the fireplace. She turned sideways on her chair, but all he did was stare at the fire, hands clasped and pressed against the small of his back. The fingers of one hand clenched and unclenched. He turned. “What of me? How long have I been in your head?”
“Before the Black Earl, I think. Only I didn’t know they weren’t just dreams.”
“More and more intimate.” His mouth thinned. “I confess to once or twice in my life imagining making love to a woman I admire. God knows you’re a pretty woman, but I don’t just imagine being with you. When I make love to you, you’re not thoughts and images in my head, you’re in my arms, real and warm. I can taste you and breathe in the scent of you, feel your skin against mine. We’ve never made love, but I’ve been inside you. Jesus, Olivia, you know I have.”
She nodded.
“Hell, for all we know it’s possible I’ve made a child in you.” His eyes pinned her. “Did anything like that happen between you and Andrew?”
“No.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
“You never saw the Black Earl until I was at Pennhyll?”
“Never.”
“Andrew never came to you in—as I have. As we have together?”
“No. I never thought of him that way.”
“You do me, though.”
She nodded.
Tiern-Cope regarded for what seemed an eternity. “Very well,” he said at last.
“What?”
“Your cousin has relayed to me your wishes in the matter of your marriage.”
“My lord.” She clasped her hands on her lap, interlacing her fingers. Her heart turned into a lump of clay.
“Do you want to marry him?”
“Yes.”
He tilted his head. “May I ask why, when tonight you told me you feel sick at the thought of him?”
Her throat threatened to close up. “Mama and I cannot stay here forever and not past your marriage.”
“That does not answer the question I asked.”
“I haven’t any choice.”
He walked back to the fireplace, grabbed a poker and stirred the embers.
“Sir?”
He threw the poker back into the stand by the grate. “It’s my doing. Every bit of it. I’m the reason you weren’t hired for the school. I believed you were inches from James’s bed, and I told Mrs. Leveret I could not recommend you. I told you James was not sincere in his attentions even though I suspected his feelings had changed. I closed you in that cell tonight and nearly got you killed in the process.”
“Oh, my.”
He walked to his desk and put his hand on a sheet of parchment. “This is a deed, Olivia. The estate was yours, free and clear, but your uncle, with my father’s complicity, mortgaged it for twice what it was worth. I have signed over the deed to you. It’s now truly yours. As it should have been. You have three tenants. I expect you and your mother can live well enough on the rents.” He drew in a breath. “The issue of your marriage settlement is, therefore, somewhat more complicated than you believed when you spoke to your cousin, as there is now property to consider. That is,” he said, “if you still wish to marry him.”
She stared at the document in her hand.
“Perhaps, Olivia, you ought to consider other options.”
“Such as?”
“James.”
“Do you think I should?”
His eyes settled on her and after a bit, he said, “Egremont and I leave for Falmouth on Saturday.”
“So soon?” Just four days away. Oh, God. In four days, he would be gone from her life. Four days. That must mean he would marry Diana immediately. “And your wedding, sir? Can it be arranged so quickly?”
“I think so.”
She forced her mouth to curve in a smile. “Please accept my congratulations, my lord.”
“Thank you, but felicitations are, perhaps, premature. I have not yet settled matters with my intended.”
“Oh.”
“Diana is a lovely girl, but I have no affection or desire for her. Nor can I imagine Diana dealing well with my absence for the duration of the war. You, at least, are not a flighty young thing raised for the ballroom and the parlor. You are a capable and resourceful woman with more than a passing knowledge of the world. Your husband—your future husband, that is, need not woo you with pretty words and sentimental drivel that resembles reality in no way at all.” He went still, but his eyes fixed on her. “Perhaps I ought to try.”
“Sentimental drivel, you mean?”
He smiled. “Sentiment, at any rate. You are the only woman I can imagine dealing with me. In point of fact, you’re the only woman who so far has done that.”
“My lord?”
“It’s not as though—whatever the hell it is that happens—that I don’t find you attractive. I do. And I do like you. You make me laugh and smile. And I want you in my bed. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want you.”
All the emotion ever to exist in the world lodged in her throat. She swallowed a lump the size of Pennhyll and tried to speak. All that came out was a croak.
His gaze remained on her. “I have not time for anything but honesty and plain speaking. You are constantly in my thoughts, at the center of my most intimate desires.”
“I am irreverent. Outspoken and at times undignified.”
“As ill-befits your age and station in life. Yes, I agree that’s so. But that changes nothing.”
“Marriage, my lord, is for a lifetime.”
His mouth twitched. “Marry in haste, repent at leisure?”
“Have you considered that?”
“That fact has not been far from my mind. I have no romance in me. No fine words. No high sentiment. I am as incapable of sweeping a woman off her feet as thoroughly as I lack the polish expected of my present situation. Believe me, Miss Willow, I have considered my feelings at great length and am quite content with them. Use that logical brain of yours. Not only am I a more eligible husband than your cousin, you have less reason to dislike me. Do you love James?”
“No.”
“In that case, it would be illogical for you to refuse me.”
“You must be the most perverse man in creation.”
“We are well matched.”
“What about Andrew? And Guenevere?”
“There is that.” He shrugged. “If you remember, well and good. If you do not, I am prepared for that as well.” He clasped his hands behind his back again. “Olivia. Among the reasons I gave you this property is that I did not want you to feel compelled to marry by reason of your circumstances. When you tell me yes, it will be because you know I’m right. We belong together.” He walked toward her and didn’t stop until he stood inches from her. He hauled her to her feet. One arm curled around her waist and like that, her chest pressed against him. “I may have been raised the spare, Olivia, but I manage to get what I want.” His other hand touched her cheek and curved around the back of her head. “Pennhyll wants you. The Black Earl wants you. I want you. And I will not dishonor you by offering you anything less than my name. I don’t give a damn how many times I’ve made love to you in my head, I want you in life, undisputably and without the Black Earl standing around. When next we make love, Olivia, you will be my wife.”
Time stopped when he lowered his head. Her skin flushed hot and then cold and then hot again as his lips brushed hers and lingered. A short while later, he drew back. “I think,” he said with no change in expression, “that deplorable lack of restraint should be removed from the list of your faults.” And then he looked over her shoulder and said, “Right on time.”
Olivia looked back, too. Mr. Verney stood in the open doorway, bible in one hand. Captain Egremont and Ned Fansher were right behind him.