Page 1 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

October 1813

Village of Iversley

F ortunately, thought Lady Olivia Taverston, everyone knew she loved weddings, so no one found her giddiness excessive.

As she had only been to two in her almost-nineteen years, Olivia admitted her enthusiasm was based on limited experience. Limited but varied. A distant cousin’s grand event in London’s magnificent St. James’s Church had fired her imagination when she was young. And then, nine months ago, after her stodgy brother Reginald had captured the heart of the most beautiful girl in London, he’d married her in a simple ceremony here in Iversley Village. In keeping with expectations, she’d gushed the whole time.

Olivia adored her sister-in-law Georgiana, who was everything a lady should be. But she was even more captivated by Mrs. Vanessa Wardrip. In a few hours, Olivia’s eldest brother Jasper, the duty-before-all-else, newly ascended Earl of Iversley, would be married to a widowed commoner . And that wasn’t even what shocked the most. Vanessa had been Jasper’s mistress! It was positively scandalous!

Olivia couldn’t wait to get to know her better.

Arranging her itchy wool skirt with care, Olivia settled in the family coach for the short ride from Chaumbers, the family’s country estate, into the village along with the rest of the Taverston ladies. The church awaiting them was ancient and looked it—in a quaint way, not a decrepit one. Its medieval stained glass windows had survived the outrages of the past and were now the pride of Iversley Village. Olivia had long since changed her mind about preferring St. James’s splendiferous church. London, a day’s ride away, was a sooty, foggy, crowded place. This was where she would marry someday.

While her carriage mates—Mama, Vanessa, Georgiana, and Georgiana’s cousin Alice, an honorary Taverston—were almost annoyingly self-composed, Olivia could hardly contain her excitement. Thankfully, her reputation for innocent exuberance stood her in good stead. Because as pleased as she was to be attending another wedding, she had a private reason for wanting to race to the church. He would be there. At least, Jasper had offhandedly mentioned that he had invited his new steward and old friend to the ceremony: Mr. Benjamin Carroll.

It had been almost five years since Olivia had seen Benjamin. For a long time after he’d left the Taverstons’ home, hustled out, she had hoped never to see him again. But she could face him now. She was no longer a silly child infatuated with her brother’s handsome friend. And she wanted him to know that.

Olivia pushed the curtain open a crack as the bouncing of the carriage eased. They had left the rutted country lane for the packed dirt of the village’s main road. The few shops and homes appeared shut tightly, but the woodsmoke of their hearth fires wafted to her nose.

“Almost there!” she cried.

Georgiana and Vanessa exchanged indulgent smiles. Georgiana was a strawberry blond with perfect, perfect features who never looked anything less than stunning. Vanessa had a plainer face, a little careworn, but oh, how it lit up when she smiled! Given how different they were and especially given their individual histories with Jasper, Olivia found it entertaining how quickly the two women had become friends.

“You’ll be next, Olivia,” said Alice in an encouraging tone. Since her first Season had not been a success, Alice’s words were especially generous.

Olivia’s London debut had been twice postponed, first due to her father’s illness and then because of his death and the necessary year of mourning. Everyone assumed she was chafing at the bit. Which was absurd and a little insulting. She would gladly give up going to London altogether if she could have Papa healthy and whole again.

Naturally, two years ago, when she’d thought she would be going to London to enter Society, she’d been impatient. She’d dreamed of meeting someone new, someone to love. But that was before Papa had fallen ill. Before she’d experienced true grief. Before she’d discovered the ubiquitousness of marital infidelity. She was warier now.

Nevertheless, she grinned broadly for her audience. “Not necessarily. It could be Crispin.”

They all laughed, even Mama, although the joke was sad as well as funny. Crispin, Olivia’s middle brother, was wedded to the army.

His antipathy to marriage also had something to do with an illness he’d suffered as a child and had apparently never quite recovered from. Alluding to it angered Crispin as nothing else ever did. He wouldn’t marry but he did have an eye for women. Olivia had overheard him snickering with Jasper: So long as I have a few shillings in my purse I can find love on any street corner. It had taken her a while to decipher that, but she did. Most things that Olivia knew that she wasn’t supposed to know she had learned from eavesdropping on her brothers. Sadly, they were home so seldom anymore it was putting a true crimp in her education.

The carriage rolled to a stop. A moment later, a footman threw open the door. Mama disembarked first, then Georgiana, then Olivia, all wearing shades of gray, Mama’s so dark it was black. Alice was not in mourning, she wasn’t quite family, but she dressed somberly, nevertheless. Georgiana’s gown was cut very full, a failed attempt to hide the fact that she was increasing. They made an unusual bridal party.

The footman handed Vanessa down last. An unusual bride. Olivia still had a hard time believing Jasper was carrying this off.

Vanessa was beautiful in high-waisted dark-green silk, Taverston-heirloom diamonds sparkling at her ears, but she looked nervous, blinking in the weak October sunlight. Olivia rushed over and squeezed her hand.

“I’m so glad we’re going to be sisters!”

Vanessa smiled faintly. “I am too.”

A score or more curious, excited villagers, all in their Sunday best, gathered in the churchyard. They would stand in the cold as long as necessary to cheer their earl and glimpse his new countess.

Mama swept the bridal party up the stone steps to meet the curate at the church door. They entered, except for Vanessa, who waited to be summoned. Jasper’s closest friend, the endearingly amusing Viscount Haslet, known to all as Hazard , approached and gave one arm to Georgiana and one to Alice, to usher them to the family pew before joining Jasper at the front of the church. Olivia started when Reg stepped forward to escort Mama. Hadn’t he volunteered to walk Vanessa down the aisle?

A good-looking stranger about Olivia’s own age stood in the back. His clothing was fine. His bearing was confident. Olivia could not put her finger on why he looked familiar. Then she did. He had Vanessa’s eyes. Vanessa was estranged from her family, but someone had come, and, given the limited attendance, he stood out.

The ceremony was small by choice. Not only were the Taverstons still in mourning, but the exclusive guest list was also strategic. They didn’t invite anyone who might be tempted to snub them with a “no.” Olivia felt confident that Jasper’s popularity and influence would soon have the ton clamoring for invitations to his parties, but best not to test this on his wedding day.

Music began, the deep sonorous strains of Handel’s Alla Hornpipe —Olivia’s cue to begin processing down the aisle. Vanessa had asked her to stand up with her. The fact that Mama permitted it, despite the potential for scandalizing the ton even further, made all the difference.

Olivia matched her stride to the organ’s refrain, then cast her gaze side-to-side, taking it all in. Oh! There! Crispin! Crispin was here! Her giddiness erupted into sheer joy.

She hadn’t expected him. A captain in the king’s army, he was always coming and going to and from the peninsula. Apparently, he was one of General Wellington’s couriers, and when the great man called, Crispin jumped. Because of this, he’d missed Reg’s wedding. She was relieved he was not going to miss Jasper’s.

Crispin leaned forward a hair, allowing Olivia a glimpse of the man standing beside him. For a moment, her feet felt like deadweight, and she nearly stumbled. Benjamin . Unmistakably Benjamin. But he wasn’t alone. He held a pretty, dark-haired child in his arms.

Olivia continued her march to the altar, a huge smile on her face that was now decidedly false. When she reached the front of the church, she nodded to Jasper, who looked calm and lordly, then gave Hazard a quick punch on the arm before taking her place. She turned to watch Vanessa enter the church, heard Jasper’s breath catch, and watched sister-in-law-number-two walk down the aisle.

She didn’t look at Benjamin. She couldn’t. Not when she felt so ridiculously betrayed. Why hadn’t anyone told her? It didn’t matter. Of course, it didn’t. It made sense he would be married with children by now. It made no difference. She was no longer in love with him. She never had been. She’d been a child!

So why did it feel as though her whole world had just been emptied of joy?

*

Mr. Benjamin Carroll knew he should not have come to the wedding. He was steward to the Earl of Iversley, not Jasper Taverston’s friend. Those boundaries were not porous. The fact that Jasper was marrying a commoner changed nothing. Or, if it did, it meant Jasper should enforce the boundaries in his other dealings more rigidly, not less so.

And yet, once Crispin had slipped into the pew beside him, laughing at the world and poking fun at Jasper behind his back, Benjamin forgot himself. He joked in return. It was as if they had parted ways yesterday not years ago. He relaxed and allowed himself to admire, once again, the beautiful old church with its shadowed niches, dark mahogany pews, candle-wax scent, and startlingly colorful windows. He had always enjoyed accompanying the family here for services. For nearly an hour, he fell back into the role of an old Oxford chum.

Until the processional music began. And he glanced toward the door. And there she stood.

Olivia. It knocked the wind from him. She was, of course, no longer the skinny, braids-in-her-hair hoyden who had relentlessly tagged after them, all over the Taverston estate, when he’d accompanied Jasper and Crispin home on break from university. Nor was she the earnest, embarrassed, blossoming young girl who’d horrified him with her ill-suited pink ruffled dress, wide eyes, and utterly inappropriate declaration in the billiard room. With no one else present.

She was…a blow to the chest.

In that billiard room, he’d been as gentle as he could under the circumstances, but she’d still burst out sobbing. This girl who could bark her shins on a wooden boat or tumble down a rocky slope and skin her elbow raw without shedding a tear, had cried because of him. Lud . He’d thrust a handkerchief into her hand, fled the room, fled the Taverstons’ estate. He’d fled to godforsaken Canada .

He should have stayed there.

Benjamin shifted his attention to Hannah, the little Canadian squirming in his arms. He had intended to leave the girl with Miss Jamison, her nanny, but the combination of the long coach ride from London and the strangeness of the Danforths’ cottage had the poor child terrified and he couldn’t abandon her. She was well-behaved, generally, so long as he was near. He was probably spoiling her, as Miss Jamison warned, but Hannah had suffered far too much in her two-and-a-half years. He wouldn’t allow her to suffer anything he could prevent.

Upon joining them, Crispin had assessed the situation correctly, which somehow didn’t surprise. After greeting Benjamin, he offered his hand to Hannah with a winning smile. When Hannah turned away to bury her face in Benjamin’s shoulder, Crispin didn’t tease her for shyness or insist upon being acknowledged or, worst of all, pat her head and exclaim about her curls. Instead, he withdrew his hand and ignored her. Tantrum averted.

A change in the sounds around him from fidgeting and coughing to delighted “ ah s” alerted Benjamin to the fact that the bride had appeared. He turned with the rest of the congregation to face the back of the church. So this was the woman who had won Jasper’s heart. She was very pretty, with thick chestnut hair and a pleasing figure, though not the stunning beauty one might have expected. No simpering debutante, she possessed an air of maturity that made sense, given her history. A war widow as he understood it, from Jasper’s telling. And she’d been making her own way these past several months, imagining marriage between an earl and a mill owner’s daughter turned courtesan to be an impossibility. Leave it to the Taverstons to make the impossible possible.

Along with the rest of the congregation, Benjamin pivoted as Vanessa walked past on the arm of a proud young fellow who could be a cousin or brother. Benjamin followed her with his eyes until she reached the altar. To stand beside Olivia. It was wrong to think it, but the bride paled in comparison. Olivia’s smile captivated. Her golden hair, piled atop her head, shone like sunlight. The gray gown she wore set off the cream of her skin, skimming the curves of her slender frame. Benjamin dropped his gaze, his face warm. He had no business noticing her curves.

Age was not the issue. No doubt the now-marriageable young woman would soon be betrothed to a gentleman older than Benjamin’s twenty-seven years. But she was a lady . And he was her brother’s steward.

His throat tightened. This train of thought was absurd. He had never considered Olivia in these terms. She’d been a child. And he didn’t know the young woman she had become. It would be disastrous to start thinking of her with any sort of familiarity now.

Thankfully, she could not still be carrying a torch for him. Nevertheless, he would continue to reject Jasper’s suggestion that, for everyone’s convenience, he should move into a wing of their home. Not until after she married and moved away. Just in case. An infatuated Olivia was one complication too many.

The music ended and the rector exhorted them to bow their heads. Benjamin scarcely listened to the rote words but “Amen-ed” after And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love. He started at the emphatic amen echoed by Crispin. Then smiled at Hannah’s “menmen” and her tentative patting of Crispin’s arm. Crispin goggled-eyed her, and Hannah laughed her sweet baby laugh.

The ceremony began. When the rector asked, “Who gives this woman…” the young stranger answered, “I do,” in such a forceful tone that no one questioned his right to do so, not that anyone would have questioned the Earl of Iversley’s right to claim her.

It warmed Benjamin to the core to see Jasper’s expression as he made his heartfelt responses. Vanessa too. Their happiness had been hard-earned.

He only hoped it would last. There was no greater recipe for marital disaster than the clashing of the classes.