Page 2 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

T he wedding breakfast was a lovely tradition, one that allowed the newly married couple to finally eat after the nerve-wracking preparations of the morning. The guests too.

Olivia clutched her sausage-and-bread-roll-laden plate while surveying the dining hall. Instead of their long, formal dining table, tea tables were scattered around the room. It made for a comfortable, casual arrangement that would permit the family and guests to circulate as they sampled the fare—cakes of every sort, brandied pears, dried berries and cream, sausages, kippers, sliced ham—all arrayed temptingly on the buffet. The tall windows along the east wall were closed against the October chill, but the silver velvet drapes were pulled back to let the sun warm the blue-and-white tiled floor. Olivia and her brothers made fun of Chaumbers’ architectural irregularities, but none of them had ever complained about the dining hall.

She was looking for Alice. They had become fast friends a year earlier when Alice accompanied Georgiana to Chaumbers.

There . Alice sat at a corner table with Hazard. Olivia hesitated to join them because they were engaged in a serious-appearing tête-à-tête. Which was odd for Hazard, who was the least serious man Olivia knew. It was odd, too, that Hazard was not sharing Jasper and Vanessa’s table along with Reg and Georgiana. He’d been Jasper’s dearest friend forever, and, from what Olivia had heard, he’d also established a close bond with Vanessa.

But Hazard and Alice? Olivia had noticed that the two were friendly, but she’d immediately dismissed the thought of any romance between them. Alice had been a debutante just last Season. She was twenty years old to Hazard’s…forty? He was going a bit gray at the temples. Though that alone needn’t be a deterrent to a courtship. True, Hazard required an heir and Alice needed a husband. But Hazard was a confirmed bachelor. Only recently had Olivia come to understand what that meant. It had dawned on her while watching Hazard’s face at unguarded moments—while he watched Jasper. It had seemed bizarre to her at first. But then, she’d thought: well, why not?

Poor Hazard. Unrequited love was unrequited love. At least he did a better job of hiding it than she had.

At any rate, she wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

Mama was at another table with older folks, her friends and Papa’s. Olivia didn’t want to intrude on their reunion either. It was good to see her in company again after so long. One younger man sat with them, the marquess of someplace or other—she’d been introduced to him briefly the previous evening. He was so somber faced he might have been at a funeral rather than a wedding. Although, even without a smile, he was decent looking, fair haired with angular features and a…dainty nose. He wore a fashionably cut but understated morning coat. It was intriguing. She didn’t know why he was here, but since Mama didn’t wave her over, she suspected she wasn’t destined to find out.

She chose an empty table, empty but for glasses of champagne awaiting consumption. The moment she laid down her plate, Jeremy and Jeffery, Squire Willowsett’s sons from the nearby town of Crofton, attached themselves to her sides. She welcomed their company with a grin. The twins, brown-haired, brown-eyed, gangly lads, were a bit younger than she was. They had all grown up together and had successfully passed through the silly phase where the boys imagined themselves in love with her, so now they were all friends again.

“Who was that fellow who gave away Lady Iversley?” Jeremy asked, before forking a kipper into his mouth.

Lady Iversley . Vanessa. Mama was no longer Lady Iversley, but merely the dowager. Vanessa was the countess. Jasper was the earl. Olivia knew this, but it hit her hard with a new depth of understanding—it carved a hollow in the pit of her belly. Father was gone.

Everything was changing. Even she was different. Sister, not daughter, of the Earl of Iversley. How very old she was becoming.

Crispin arrived at the chair beside Jeremy, carrying a plate of the strange dry-as-dust oatmeal biscuits he favored. She was glad he took his seat quickly. Standing, he always seemed to loom. He was an inch shorter than Jasper but because he was so thin, he looked taller unless the two stood side-by-side.

“I think it was Lady Iversley’s brother,” Crispin said. He was an even better eavesdropper than Olivia. He heard everything . And if he said “I think” it meant he knew. Or else, he knew otherwise but wanted to misdirect the listener. She loved Crispin with her whole being but still took everything he said with a pinch of salt.

Another quick sweep of the room showed Vanessa’s brother was not there. And neither was Benjamin, although it looked as though everyone else from the church had arrived. Olivia didn’t know if the twinge she felt was disappointment or relief.

“Where’d he go?” Jeremy asked.

Crispin shrugged, stirring his tea. He had that look about him though. He knew. Well, if it was Vanessa’s brother, it meant he was a Culpepper. A commoner. Although it was crass to talk of such things, the older Mr. Culpepper was said to be one of the richest men in England. Olivia had overheard that Vanessa’s family cut her off when she ran off with her soldier, but it appeared at least one of the Culpeppers cleaved to her enough to attend her wedding—her wedding, but not a breakfast hosted by an earl. She supposed he’d feel out of place. Maybe that was Benjamin’s excuse too.

The mounting volume of chatter in the hall suddenly silenced when a clinking of cutlery on crystal turned everyone’s heads. Reginald rose to make the first toast.

Reg, Olivia’s quiet brother, was the only Taverston to have inherited their mother’s dark coloring. He was also average in height and build rather than towering over everyone else the way Jasper and Crispin did, and Olivia was grateful she did not. Although not as arresting as his older brothers, Reg was handsome in his own understated way and recognizable as a Taverston by his bright-blue eyes and square chin. Five years older than she was and four years younger than Crispin, Reg had always occupied a space of his own, one populated by books and ancient peoples. He never seemed to mind the fact that, for as long as she could remember, she had played the part of pesky little sibling to their older brothers, the role that he should have played.

“A toast!” he said, raising his glass. “To my brother and new sister: Fortune and love favor the brave!”

“Hear! Hear!” Crispin called, teacup in the air.

A warm blanket of comfort wrapped around Olivia as her brothers behaved true to form: Crispin, abstemious as always, and Reg with an apt quote from Ovid.

Other voices echoed, then they all drank. Footmen scurried about to refill their glasses. Olivia returned quickly to her sausages before the next toast. She didn’t want to be tipsy before teatime. From the corner of her eye, she saw Crispin gesturing a “come closer” wave. She lifted her gaze and found Benjamin, who looked pained rather than pleased to be there.

The sausages and champagne sat heavily in her stomach as he approached. The last time they had spoken, she’d put him in a terrible position and mortified herself. She’d sworn inwardly—the moment she’d learned that Jasper had hired Benjamin—that when they met again, she would be lively, cheerful, and mature, and act as if she’d forgotten everything. As if it had never happened. Instead, her face felt as though it had caught fire, and her hands began to sweat.

Benjamin reached them. Up close, he looked older. More serious. Harder of face and of body. His clothes fit well though they were not finely tailored, and they revealed he was muscled like a laborer where he used to be wiry. His intriguing iron-gray eyes were no longer laughing but cautious. Thick, dark-brown hair framed his face. Lud . He was handsomer than ever. She felt a tightening deep in her belly that was almost like fear, but wasn’t.

“Lady Olivia. Captain Taverston.” He made an appropriate bow, then tilted his head to Jeremy and Jeffrey.

“Mr. Willowsett and Mr. Willowsett,” Crispin said, introducing them archly. No one called them that. “This is Mr. Carroll. Mr. Carroll, will you join us?”

Benjamin hesitated before nodding and pulling out a chair.

“Where is Hannah?” Crispin asked, spreading a thin layer of jam on his biscuit. “We were just starting to be friends.”

“With her nanny.” Benjamin sounded wooden. “She was overtired.”

Olivia’s tongue felt paralyzed by the weight of questions she could not ask.

Then Crispin stated to the table at large, “Benjamin adopted the little mite. Too soft-hearted to leave an orphan in Rupert’s Land.”

And this was why Olivia adored Crispin! He might have made the announcement for her sake, or he might not have. He rarely let on how much he knew. Nevertheless, she now found it perfectly natural to face Benjamin, raise an eyebrow, and say, “Oh?”

“I knew her parents,” Benjamin said, a rough edge to his voice. “They died of fevers within a week of each other.”

She didn’t know the appropriate response, so only said, “I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, apparently wordless as well. But he gathered himself and, turning to Crispin, said, “I am indebted to Iversley for the opportunity he’s given me. It will allow me to bring Hannah up in safety.”

“In safety ?” Crispin squinched his brow.

“Meaning not in poverty.”

Benjamin’s answer was so blunt that Crispin’s head drew back, and he blinked three times. It was rare to see him caught unprepared. But the reaction was only momentary. Crispin put a hand on Benjamin’s arm, squeezed it, then pulled away.

“I understand that, Benjamin. But don’t forget you are also our friend. And don’t ,” his eyes narrowed, “make me remind you of what I owe to you.”

“You don’t owe—”

“Very good.” Crispin laughed. “I always say friends don’t tally debts. That way, I come out ahead.”

Benjamin breathed out a huff. Olivia wondered what Crispin could possibly owe Benjamin. This was the trouble with her having been so young when the three met at Oxford. She didn’t know how their friendship started. Only that, naturally, they had drifted apart after Benjamin went to Canada. He wouldn’t have said anything to her brothers about…the billiard room, but they hadn’t been blind to her adoration. She wondered if his mention of indebtedness and poverty was made for her ears rather than Crispin’s.

Well, he needn’t warn her off. She’d learned her lesson. And they were different people now than they had been. In fact, it was conceited of him to think she still cared.

Clinking began again. This time, Hazard stood, glass raised. They all got to their feet and lifted their champagne flutes, even Crispin, who normally avoided all spirits as though they were poison.

“A toast to Lady Iversley, whose entrance into the Taverston family saga still has me agog. And to Iversley himself. The very best man that I know.”

Before anyone could cheer, Jasper protested, grinning, “After Crispin and Reg.”

Hazard cocked his head a moment, then said, “The third best man that I know.” And quaffed his drink.

Olivia laughed along with the others as she sipped, though it seemed to her Hazard and Jasper were exchanging private jokes. Or maybe it didn’t matter after scads of champagne on empty stomachs combined with an abundance of joy. Everything and anything would make them laugh.

Hazard sat back down and said something to Alice, whose face brightened as she nodded vigorously.

“What are they talking about?” she wondered.

“Who?” Crispin asked.

“Alice and Hazard.”

He chewed his lip a moment, regarding them. Then said in tone so disgruntled it had to be genuine, “Bedeviled if I know.”

She giggled. To her delight, Benjamin laughed too.

Jeremy jostled Crispin’s arm. “Captain, now that we’re old enough, Jeffrey and I want to enlist. Don’t you think we should?”

Jeffrey put in eagerly, “Could we join your regiment? Father couldn’t say no if—”

“Boys,” Crispin said, unsmiling, talking down. “This is a wedding. No war talk.”

“Yes, but don’t you think it’s our duty?” Jeremy pressed. “If you speak with our father—”

“Do not put me between the king and your father.” He used a tone of voice that chilled Olivia’s blood and left the twins slack-jawed.

To Olivia’s relief, the clinking started up once more.

Lord Billings, an old friend of the family, made a dull toast to the happy couple. More champagne followed. And then Squire Willowsett rose and said something jumbled about the beauty of love or the duty of love, and they all drank to whichever.

The sight and smell of sausages was beginning to make Olivia queasy. She nibbled her bread roll instead. Her head felt heavy and her body warm. She was afraid to look in Benjamin’s direction, afraid she would say something she didn’t mean to say.

This was silly. The tables were set up so that people could move around. She would go join Hazard. He was her friend before he’d become Alice’s. And if she said anything stupid, it would be of no consequence.

She stood abruptly. Jeremy gave a cheer and started clinking his glass with his spoon. The clattering rose to a crescendo and everyone watched her and waited. Mama looked alarmed. The young marquess at her table seemed to perk up.

Oh, bosh .

She put on her most exuberant smile, hoisted her flute, and said the first thing that popped into her head.

“A toast to Lady Georgiana. For saying no to Jasper.”

There was a moment of silence so complete she heard the wind outside blowing. Then Crispin began hooting with laughter. When Crispin laughed like that, it was impossible to resist laughing along. Vanessa raised her glass to Georgiana. The whole room followed suit, crying, “To Lady Georgiana.”

When the laughter finally died down, Hazard gestured lazily and drawled, “Well, Captain Taverston. Your turn.”

Crispin got to his feet, muttering, “Reg took Ovid. That leaves me with this new fellow, Lord Byron.”

They waited. He lifted his teacup. To Olivia’s mind, he was savoring the moment. Then he smirked. “To Lord and Lady Iversley! I have great hopes that they shall love each other all their lives as much as if they had never married at all!”