Page 27 of An Alliance with the Earl (Marrying for Love #5)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T he streets of Bath were alive with movement, filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and the gentle murmur of passing conversations.

Olivia had been in Bath for nearly two days, and she had yet to see him. Lord Cheshire. She and her brother had called three times at the house where he was staying, but the butler would not say where he was. Each time they called he was merely out.

She’d asked after him, discreetly of course, but his name was always just out of reach—a whisper in passing, a reference made by those who hadn’t actually seen him. It was maddening.

She hoped to chance upon him in a shop or on a stroll, but each inquiry was met with vague responses or none at all. It was the most frustrating thing.

Her brother had business to attend to, so she walked with Mrs. Morris from the edge of town toward the center.

She had little time left.

Her heart was growing restless.

She had come to Bath with a purpose.

Her brother, ever punctual and pragmatic, was growing impatient. The ship was due to leave soon, and they were meant to be on it. By this time tomorrow, she would be gone—sailing across the sea toward the life she had planned for herself.

But something inside her knew she could not board that ship until she saw him one last time. Until she knew for certain. Until she’d at least had a proper goodbye. She swallowed. A goodbye seemed so final.

She had left Ivy Manor’s House Party with too many unspoken words, and the weight of them sat heavy on her chest.

“I believe I shall call once again at his house. He cannot always be out.”

Mrs. Morris did not object, but she did not look eager for the walk. The Royal Crescent was the height of fashion. Carriages came and went, and several people paraded up and down the street as they arrived.

Olivia hesitated before the door.

“It’s now or never,” Mrs. Morris said lightly.

Olivia nodded. She wanted to see him. She could face the butler again. Gathering her resolve, she knocked on the door. It opened immediately.

The butler glanced at both her and Mrs. Morris, surprise evident in his face, most likely because they were not accompanied by her brother this time. “Lord Cheshire is not at home.”

The door was on its way to being shut, when Olivia said, “Please. I am running out of time. I leave tomorrow, and I must give him a message.”

The butler raised his white eyebrows. “I will convey any message you wish to deliver to him.”

“I appreciate that very much. But it is a message I must deliver personally. Lady Lansdowne assured me that I would find him here.”

The butler’s entire demeanor changed. “Lady Lansdowne sent you?”

Olivia nodded. “I was recently at her manor in the country. She gave me specific instructions to come here.”

“Why didn’t you say so when you first called two days ago?”

“I—”

The butler waved the question away. “It is of no matter. You are here now.”

“Do you mean that Lord Cheshire is in fact now at home?” Mrs. Morris asked with a slight hint of annoyance.

The butler shook his head. “He is still not at home. Unfortunately, I do not keep his schedule, and cannot provide a time when he will return.”

Olivia regretted not having left her name the last two days. Perhaps that would have made a difference, but she wanted to talk to Lord Cheshire in person. “Then how am I to speak to him?”

The corners of the butler’s eyes crinkled in a sympathetic smile. “Have you considered seeing a theatre production while you are in Bath?” There was a twinkle in the man’s eyes. “I believe it is well worth seeing tonight.”

Olivia returned his smile. “Thank you very much.”

They left the Royal Crescent. “This is most fortuitous. You now have a way forward,” Mrs. Morris said.

“Yes, but what shall we do until then?”

“Now that you do not need to spend your entire day looking for Lord Cheshire, what if we enjoy some of the sites in Bath?”

Olivia nodded. A breath of relief and anticipation mingled together in her chest. But there were still long hours before the performance, and the anxious fluttering in her stomach left her feeling unsettled. “I’m famished. Perhaps we could get some food on the way to all of the sites.”

“How about Sally Lunn’s? The establishment is one of the oldest and most famous in all of Bath. It’s known for its light, buttery buns, and I’ve heard the atmosphere is cozy. We can eat and be refreshed and see the historic building at the same time.”

“That sounds delightful,” Olivia said.

They continued walking in the direction of Sally Lunn’s. It was just the distraction she needed.

But as they approached, Mrs. Morris paused outside of the door. “You go along, dear. I shall join you soon. I want to see the shawl we just passed in the window that I should like to see before eating.”

Olivia nodded. It was a public place, and there was no need for her to have her chaperone near while she took a meal here.

The upstairs dining room at Sally Lunn’s was alive with the low hum of conversation, the scent of warm bread and spices wafting through the air. Olivia found a seat near the window, hoping that the small pleasure of the famous buns and a strong cup of tea would ease her nerves. She angled herself toward the window, taking in the sights and the shops along the street. She was so caught up in watching several people walk up and down the street as if there was a parade, that she tuned out everything inside the room. Until she heard a familiar name.

“Your usual fare, Lord Cheshire?”

She stilled. Had she only just imagined Lord Cheshire’s name being spoken? She angled her body, but she could not see the person behind her unless she turned completely around.

“That would be quite agreeable.” His voice was familiar. It was him!

Olivia’s heart lurched. She abandoned decorum and turned fully around. Seated on the opposite side of the fireplace, a familiar form sat facing away from her. She would know those broad-shoulders and commanding yet reserved presence anywhere. It was Edward.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He was right there. Fate had finally smiled upon her.

The moment she had waited for—hoped for—was suddenly upon her.

Her heart raced as she approached, but then hesitation.

Her palms felt damp against her gloves, her mind racing. What should she say? How should she approach him? Would he be glad to see her? All of the words she’d practiced and thought through fled.

What if she had truly ruined everything between them?

No. She would not lose her courage now.

But her nerves were far too great to face him head-on, so instead, she did something utterly ridiculous—she sat at the table behind him.

She took a steadying breath, then, in a voice she barely recognized as her own, she asked softly,

“What is good on the menu?” she asked softly, keeping her voice light, teasing.

A pause. She dared to look behind her. There was no one else in the room. He shifted behind her.

Then, a low, familiar voice, clipped and distant sounded behind her. “The buns are popular, naturally.”

She almost laughed in relief. It was him. The same Edward, always practical but with a hint of amusement.

Her lips curled into a smile, and she swallowed the torrent of emotions rising in her chest.

“I was hoping for something more substantial,” she said, emboldened by the moment.

Another pause.

“Tea is always a favored choice.”

Encouraged by his response, she took a steadying breath and began her speech—the one she had been rehearsing in her head for days.

Olivia turned her head just slightly, enough to know that the man behind her was completely aware of her. She cleared her throat. She could be brave—she wanted to be brave. And the penned lines in her new notebook from Edward gave her the courage to believe that he was still firm in his affection toward her. She only need tell him of the reciprocation from her—how she didn’t need more time.

“Lord Cheshire,” she said softly, her fingers clutching the edge of the table as she leaned in. “I came to Bath for a reason. I know we had an agreement, but somewhere along the way, that changed for me. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wondering what my future would look like with you in it.”

“I believe—” He turned around and their eyes met.

“Lord Cheshire, I know this will sound strange, but please, turn back around.”

He blinked, confusion on his face. “Turn around? But—”

She held up a hand to him. She couldn’t get distracted by his eyes. “I have to get all these words out. I’ve been rehearsing them, but seeing your eyes will make it hard for me to share everything.”

“But I must tell you first, I—”

Olivia’s words tumbled out of her without restraint. “Please let me speak. I will be a mess if I cannot get these words out.”

He took a breath, then gave a small nod. Without a word, he turned away.

She stared at his profile, willing herself to breathe.

Then, softly, tentatively, she said, “I have spent so long convincing myself that I didn’t want to form an attachment—that I didn’t need to. That it was safer to remain at a distance.”

Her hands clenched in her lap. The words trembled on her tongue, but she pushed through.

“But then I met you. And I knew.”

She exhaled shakily. “I knew I had been wrong.”

Her voice grew quieter, but no less certain. “I suppose you’ll think me foolish for not realizing it sooner. But you must understand… overcoming what came before has not been without wounds. I was made to feel small, insignificant, easily cast aside. And I’ve let that past hold me at arm’s length from happiness. But I am now ready to face those wounds and move past them. You could call it the fourth arrow. Or are we on the fifth arrow now? Do not be hung up over it. After all, someday I will be better at archery.” She laughed at her own expense.

She was sure that he would join in with her joke, but he did not. She cleared her throat. Now that she was finished the speech she had prepared, she was ready to know his thoughts.

She moved past Edward and took the chair across from him, coming into his line of vision. She bit her lip, a tentative question on her lips. “How do you feel about what I have shared?” He was studying her, and she became fidgety. It was a very good thing that she had stood behind him while she expressed herself, otherwise, she wouldn’t have gotten any of the words out. She waited another heartbeat before she added, “Am I too late in my confession of my feelings toward you?” Her brows drew together as she tried to read his expression with any form of accuracy.

He gave her a small smile, not unkind, but it was not quite the look she’d expected from him. It was equal parts empathy and hesitation.

That was not a good sign.

He breathed out a sigh. “I do not believe you are too late, but I fear they have not been expressed to the correct recipient.”

She blinked. “I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Lord Cheshire.”

He pursed his lips. “I was trying to tell you at the beginning of our … conversation … that I believe you are mistaking me for someone else, Miss.”

The world tipped beneath her. Her hand flew to her mouth.

She blinked up at him, confusion crashing into her like a wave.

His face was Edward’s.

But the eyes—

They lacked the familiar warmth. The softness. The way he looked at her like she was something rare and luminous.

This man’s expression held only polite concern. No flicker of true recognition. No aching, mutual understanding. Her breath caught.

His voice was familiar, but not quite right. A shade higher, cooler in cadence.

No.

Her heart pounded wildly as he turned fully to face her, and the truth hit like ice in her veins.

This wasn’t Edward. “You’re not Lord Cheshire,” she said.

He smiled. “I am in fact Lord Cheshire, but not the one you were speaking of. As there is no one here to perform the introduction properly, please allow me to do so myself. I am William Berkeley, the Marquess of Cheshire—Lord Cheshire, at your service. I believe you are mistaking me for my brother—Edward, the Earl of Cheshire, who is also known as Lord Cheshire. We are twins.”

The Marquess . Edward’s twin brother.

Olivia froze. Her eyes widened. Mortification washed over her threatening to swallow her whole. “I had no idea you looked so alike,” she finally managed, her voice feeling distant and hollow even as her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

A breath escaped her lips as she barely resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands.

The marquess gave her a gentle, almost regretful smile. “You’re not the first to make this mistake. And I assume that you will not be the last. It is often difficult even for our own relations to tell us apart, especially when we are in a mood to deceive them.” He chuckled. “For years we purposefully fooled others for long stretches of time. I believe for a full summer we switched places. One would think it’s easy, but Edward and I still have our differences, so it was sometimes a challenge to act like the other and be convincing. I was always the better actor, you see.”

The resemblance was uncanny. And yet … now that she saw them side by side in her memory, there were differences. The eyes. The energy.

William’s gaze held a sharper edge. Confident, yes—but not vulnerable. Not open. Not Edward.

Olivia shut her eyes. Fool. Fool. Fool.

She had poured out her heart—her most private feelings—to the wrong brother.

A small, horrified laugh escaped her. This could not be happening. She was in the middle of a dream—no, not a dream. A nightmare. At any moment, she was going to wake up. She would be through all of this humiliation.

“I feel positively ridiculous.”

The marquess tilted his head, studying her carefully, and then—with no hint of teasing—he said, “Don’t be.”

She looked at him sharply. “Foolish, then.”

The marquess shook his head. “It sounds like you and Edward had a rather remarkable house party.”

The words settled heavily between them. She bit her lip, unsure how much she should say. But considering she’d just revealed her feelings about Edward to him, there wasn’t much left to say. “Yes, it was remarkable.” she admitted. “Have you spoken with your brother?”

He shook his head. “Not since before the house party.”

Her heart twisted. “Then he is not here in Bath?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I haven’t seen him, but I imagine he wouldn’t know I was here unless he asked Lady Lansdowne. She agreed to keep my whereabouts under the strictest of confidences until after the house party.”

“I—I’m so sorry,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought you were Edward, obviously. And I am sorry to have troubled you. Lady Lansdowne said I would find him in Bath with his brother.”

“You care for my brother,” he said gently.

She closed her eyes, nodding once. “More than I meant to.”

There was a pause—brief, but not cold. Then William inclined his head, almost formally.

“Then I imagine he’ll be very glad to hear it.”

Olivia’s stomach knotted as a fresh new wave of distress settled over her. Where was he? Was he avoiding her? Or had he already left Bath entirely?

“I need to see him urgently.” She had to speak with him before the ship sailed.

The weight of those words crashed down on her.

William did not question her urgency. He simply nodded. “Of course. We must find him.”

“I do not know how to begin.” Time was slipping away faster than she could grasp it.

He offered her a kind look, and to his credit, there was no mockery in it. Only understanding. “Fortunately for you, I might just know where he is.”

Olivia’s head snapped up. “You do?”

He gave her a small, conspiratorial smile. “If I had to wager a guess, he’s at Alexander and Lizzie’s estate. Lizzie is our sister, but we do not distinguish with her husband. He has always been a brother to us, and now that he is married to our sister, the bond is official. They are not too great a distance from Ivy Manor, in the country.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering.

“Close to Ivy Manor? That is backtracking significantly, but it cannot be helped.”

Olivia’s heart pounded. She felt breathless, her entire being thrumming with new purpose.

This was it. This was her chance.

She pushed back her chair, her pulse racing. “Thank you, my lord. If you can give me the direction, I will be on my way.”

“Without trying the food at Sally’s?”

“Time is of the essence.”

The marquess simply grinned, lifting his teacup in salute. “I can do better than that.” He took a sip of tea and stood. “You must promise me that you will return to Sally’s someday. You really must try her buns with clotted cream. It is an experience you will not find anywhere else.”

“I promise,” she said.

“Very well,” he said, escorting her out of the small cafe. “Let’s go find my fool of a brother before it’s too late.”