Page 60 of A Lady Most Wayward
Olivia’s flushed cheeks paled, and her eyes grew wide with fear. Just for that, Philippa wished to eviscerate the Lord High Chancellor with a very dull butter knife.
‘Shall I have the cook prepare some tea and sandwiches?’ Stokes asked helpfully. Which was something the man had never been in all the years Philippa knew him. ‘I shall bring them to the front parlour, Lady Winterbourne, as I’m sure the two of you will be more comfortable there.’ He had also never cared a whit about her comfort.
She raised an eyebrow at him and wondered if he planned to put more than just whiskey in her tea. Perhaps a dram of hemlock.
‘That would be lovely, Stokes. Thank you so much.’ Olivia seemed to have collected herself and sent the butler a warm smile.
Stokes turned a shade of pink more likely to be found on the frock of a young miss than the complexion of a staid butler.
Is Stokes blushing? What the Devil is going on here?
‘Of course, Lady Smithwick.’ Stokes tucked the silver platter under his arm, nodded to Olivia, turned, and swiftly left the ballroom.
‘What have you done to my butler?’ Philippa knew they should be looking at the note, but certain mysteries required immediate solving.
Olivia shrugged. ‘Nothing. He came into the library the other day to bring me tea, and we chatted for a moment, that was all. He isn’t nearly as terrible as you make out. Did you know he’s an avid fan of penny dreadfuls? We had a delightful discussion on whetherVarney the VampireorThe String of Pearlshad a better antagonist. I’m more partial to Sir Francis, but Stokes liked Sweeney Todd. I suppose it’s a matter of blood or flesh.’ Olivia’s eyes strayed to Philippa’s neck before she blinked back into focus and looked at the note. ‘I suppose we should open that. God. I hate how frightened I am of a bloody piece of paper. Hardly Damsel material, am I?’
Philippa couldn’t answer. Not without revealing more than she wished. Because Olivia was far more than just a worthy candidate for becoming one of the Queen’s Deadly Damsels. She was the only woman Philippa could imagine spending the remainder of her days with. But blurting out her undying love for Olivia while discussing a threatening letter from her brother, the Lord High Chancellor of England, who coincidentally led the most insidious ring of sex traffickers in London and was also keeping Olivia’s daughter hostage, hardly seemed ideal timing. She would wait until the mess with Lord High Chancellor Hardgrave was sorted. Then she would declare her love for Olivia. Hopefully cosied up in front of a roaring fire with whiskey in their hands. Naked. A much better scenario.
‘There is no shame in being frightened. What’s more important is what you do in spite of your fear.’ Philippa wanted to pull Olivia close and hug her tightly. Instead, she flicked open the note and read it. With each word, her anger increased.
‘What did he say?’ Olivia’s voice was taut with anxiety.
Philippa handed it to her. ‘Read it.’
Olivia’s eyes darted over the words.
‘He’s demanding you hand me over. Oh, God. If you don’t, he says he will be forced to inform the Queen that the Duchess of Dorsett is harbouring a fugitive to the Crown. Philippa, he’ll destroy you.’ Olivia’s face crumpled. ‘He’s doing this because you went to Victoria. He must know we are planning something at the ball, and he is trying to force your hand.’
‘Mad men are often also geniuses of a kind. We should have expected him to retaliate. I underestimated him.’ Philippa tapped her finger against her lip, thinking of their options.
Olivia handed the letter back to Philippa. ‘You must do as he asks, Philippa.’
Philippa recoiled at the very idea. A duchess did not cave to the demands of anyone. Certainly not this insidious bastard. ‘Acquiescing to a bully only makes him bolder.’
Olivia shook her head, her hair falling around her face in disarray. ‘You don’t understand, Philippa. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants. To defy him puts Hyacinth at risk. He has me exactly where he wants me. Powerless.’ Olivia swayed on her feet, and Philippa feared she might faint. ‘We must do as he demands. I’m not worth ruining your reputation. I’m certainly not worth the life of my daughter. If we do as he asks, mayhap he will promise to keep Hyacinth safe.’
Philippa gripped her shoulders and squeezed, holding her steady and meeting her stricken gaze. ‘Men like your brother never keep their promises, Olivia. You know this. But I keep mine. I promised I would get your daughter and bring her to you, safe and well. I asked you to trust me before, and you said you would. Does that still hold true?’ She held her breath, waiting.
Olivia blinked, a tear breaking free and tracking down her cheek. ‘Yes. I do. Of course I do, but Philippa, if we fail…’
Philippa pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her mouth. ‘We won’t. We can’t.’ She held onto her rage with tenuous control, not wanting to frighten Olivia further. How dare this man threaten her woman? How dare he make someone as fascinating, powerful, and important as Olivia feel insignificant? She would rip his throat open and bathe in his blood.
Pulling away, she forced her lips to curl in a smile she feared was more feral than friendly.‘Come, let us enjoy our tea and discuss how best to move forward.’
She nearly reached for Olivia’s hand. She had to clutch her skirts to stop from doing so as she turned and led them out of the ballroom. There would be time for tenderness when the Crow was caught. For now, the duchess needed to keep her armour strong and her blades sharp.
18
Callum joined them for afternoon tea. The young man was twitchy and restless with little to occupy his time in the city. When he found out about the note, his face darkened with rage.
‘We won’t give in to him, will we? Handing over Lady Smithwick only gives him all the control.’
‘But not agreeing to his demands puts Hyacinth at risk.’ Olivia’s fear ratcheted higher. She had promised to trust Philippa, and she did, but she couldn’t see a way forward.
‘I will reply to his message and meet with him alone.’
Olivia and Callum spoke at the same time.
