Janice Preston – Lady Olivia And The Infamous Rake (страница 2)
‘Where have you
‘It’s not my fault,’ Lady Olivia Beauchamp retorted to her brother, Alexander. ‘Do you even
‘Never mind that now.’ Alex grabbed her arm and bundled her unceremoniously towards the waiting hackney. ‘Hurry up. If anyone should catch us, there’ll be hell to pay.’
Huffing at his cavalier treatment of her, Olivia clambered inside, then stopped short at the sight of a figure already seated within. Alex put his hand between her shoulder blades and shoved. ‘Move. It’s only Nev. He’s come to help me keep you out of trouble.’
Olivia sprawled inelegantly on the seat opposite Neville Wolfe as her brother leapt in behind her and slammed the door. Immediately, the hackney rocked into motion, causing Olivia, by now half-upright, to tip over once more.
‘Alex,’ she wailed.
Neville’s hand covered his mouth, but he failed to muffle his snort of laughter. Olivia glared across the carriage at him.
‘Oh, God,’ Alex muttered, as he reached across and hauled her upright. ‘Tonight is bound to be a disaster.’
Neville passed a flask to Alex, who drank before handing it back.
‘Can I have a drink?’ Olivia asked.
‘No, you cannot,’ Alex retorted. ‘That’s all I need...you half-cut!’ He eyed Olivia sternly. ‘Two hours and not a minute longer, d’you hear? We’ve got better things to do tonight than dance attendance on a troublesome chit like you.’
The carriage passed under one of the new gas street lamps at that moment and Alex’s eyes widened as the light caught the ruby and diamond bracelet on Olivia’s gloved wrist. He reached across and grabbed her hand, holding it up to examine it.
‘That’s from Mama’s parure. What the devil are you about? What else have you got on?’
He yanked down the hood of her cloak, revealing the pair of exquisite eardrops and the matching necklace she wore. The set had been a wedding gift from their father, the Duke of Cheriton, to their late mother. Olivia fingered the necklace—remembering how beautiful Mama had looked, all dressed up and wearing the parure—before battening down the guilt that stirred her conscience. She stuck her nose in the air.
‘They belong to me, not Rosalind.’ Rosalind was their new stepmother and Olivia was finding it hard to adjust to calling her Stepmama, although she took care not to call her Rosalind to her face. Or in front of her father. ‘Papa said that Mama would have wanted me to have them.’
‘He
‘Exactly! So when people see a masked lady tonight, wearing such fine jewellery, it will help my disguise. No one will guess I am your younger sister. They will think I am your light o’ love.’
‘
‘From you,’ she retorted.
‘God’s teeth, Olivia, you’d try the patience of a saint. How did you get the jewels, anyway? I thought Father kept them locked up in his safe.’
‘He does.’ But she also knew where Papa kept the key.
‘What do you imagine he’ll do when he discovers they’re missing, you little idiot? He’ll have the Runners out.’
‘Idiot yourself! I’ll have them back long before he returns from Birmingham. He’ll never know.’
‘Well, you be sure to keep them covered up at Vauxhall. You’ll be a magnet for every fingersmith and gallows bird there tonight. I must have rocks in my head to ever agree to such a madcap stunt as this.’
‘Well, you did not agree. I won our wager fair and square and—as you always tell me, Brother dear—gambling debts are debts of honour, so you had no choice.
Alex muttered something that sounded suspiciously like
A minute later, out of the dark, came a mocking, ‘Good evening, Lady Olivia.’
Olivia—miffed at having been betrayed into such unladylike behaviour in front of Alex’s friend, even though she had known him for years—responded with a hissed, ‘And if you tell a
* * *
They crossed the Thames by boat and her first sight of Vauxhall Gardens utterly enchanted Olivia as they entered via the water entrance. Papa was exceedingly unfair to refuse to allow her to come to here—apart from one
Not for the first time, Olivia wished she had been born a boy.
They climbed the Vauxhall Stairs and entered the Gardens, which were lit by thousands of coloured lanterns, hanging in festoons between the trees. Her squabble with Alex was quickly forgotten, as always, and Olivia linked arms with her brother. With Neville bringing up the rear, she had no qualms about her safety and neither did she worry that she would be recognised. Her midnight-blue velvet domino, with its hood and matching mask—which left only the tip of her nose and her mouth and chin visible—would surely pass the closest scrutiny.
They strolled the well-lit paths, avoiding the more secluded walks—walks that rejoiced in names like the Dark Walk and Lovers’ Walk. Olivia peered down these dark and mysterious ways, catching glimpses of couples standing close together in the shadows and groups of young bucks—noisy in their cups—patrolling the walks. Alex had warned her she was on no account to enter any of these walks, hinting at dire consequences if she did not obey him.
She huffed quietly to herself. He should know she had more sense than
They stopped to admire the picturesque caves, grottos and waterfalls, Olivia staring in wonder at the sights, then continued until they reached the central square, where jugglers and tightrope walkers entertained the crowds and an orchestra played, the music struggling to be heard above the chatter and laughter of the crowds dancing, strolling and finishing their supper in the many supper boxes.
As they continued to stroll, arm in arm—Neville still ambling along in their wake—a female voice called Alex’s name. They turned as one and Olivia sensed her brother’s sudden tension. She had no difficulty in recognising the lady who had hailed him—Lady Shelton, the beautiful widow of Baron Shelton of Rutland. She indicated a supper box—in which several ladies and gentlemen were already seated—and beckoned Alex with a smile of enticement that set Olivia’s teeth on edge. She’d never been introduced to Lady Shelton nor, she realised as she scanned the occupants of that box, to any of the others, apart from Lords Clevedon and Sudbury. They were of an older set than the young gentleman and ladies she normally socialised with. A shiver chased down her spine. She chose to interpret it as a shiver of excitement rather than apprehension. At last she would experience a little of
‘You don’t mind if we join them, do you, Livvy?’ Alex said, his eyes glued to Lady Shelton.
‘Beatrice! I’m
‘What? Oh, yes, of course. But you don’t mind, do you?’
Neville stepped forward and cleared his throat. ‘Alex. Have you forgotten what you said?’
‘What?’ Alex tore his gaze from the buxom blonde and stared at Neville.