Page 26 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

A t least Benjamin would not bear the blame for the ruined picnic. That fault lay with Lord Chase. But although Chase cast the pall, Benjamin knew Jasper was not pleased with him either. And now he felt compelled to go to him to apologize and explain. Apologize and explain . Two things at which he’d proved himself most inept.

Benjamin paced at the foot of the Taverstons’ grand staircase, gathering courage to go up.

Perhaps the mistake had been going on the outing in the first place. He’d gotten caught up in the innocent idyll. Simply being with Olivia and Hannah… He’d been happy— an emotion he barely recognized. Until he saw that elaborate picnic spread out for them up on the hill. All the hard work of Jasper’s servants and the Taverstons’ casual disregard for the effort. Once again, Benjamin felt himself and Hannah suspended between two worlds.

He had to start teaching Hannah now, now , that the world would not always be kind. And it would be even more unkind if she did not understand her place in it.

But none of this was Jasper’s fault. Benjamin mounted the stairs. The door to the study was ajar. He raised his hand to knock. Reg’s voice stopped him. “But has he asked?”

Benjamin paused, dropping his hand. Then raised it again. No excuses. Just as well to talk to the both of them.

“No, not yet. Not in so many words. But I fear this is prelude. He will, and then I am stumped what to do.”

Has who asked what?

“I don’t know, Jasp. I understand your difficulty, but I think you are worrying prematurely. He can’t possibly woo her.”

Benjamin’s gut clenched. Who? Who were they talking about?

“He is a duke. He will damn well do as he pleases.”

Relief washed over Benjamin. Then he wondered again. Who?

“He is sixty , if he is a day!”

“I know that, Reg. But the older Lythe gets, the younger his wives. And he—you saw it—the way he maneuvered Olivia into the dark.”

Benjamin clenched his fists. Lythe. The blackguard.

“Yes, but it wasn’t as though he was assaulting her. Georgiana says he is always like that. Full of his own consequence and not caring that he is monopolizing a lady’s company and boring her to tears. She was trapped listening to him at several parties her first Season, but he was not…inappropriate.”

“His wife was alive then,” Jasper said in a flat tone.

Benjamin knew he should not be listening at the door. Nor should he make his confession now. This was not the time to weigh Jasper down more. But he waited. What would Jasper do?

He heard the slap of a hand against a desk.

“I cannot tell him he is not permitted to call upon Olivia. I would like to, but I cannot afford to offend him and alienate his fellows. They will make it difficult for me to have any say in Parliament. And worse, they will enlist their wives to reject Vanessa, something they are all no doubt eager to do.”

“So, then, let him call on Olivia.” Reg’s reasonable tone struck Benjamin as far too mild. “He will be one of many. He may think she will jump at the opportunity to be a duchess, but he doesn’t know Olivia.”

“I hate to subject her to him.”

“She is stronger than you credit, Jasper.”

Benjamin turned on his heel and strode away. Furious. God how he hated the ton. Their posturing and superiority and hypocrisy. Jasper once said if Olivia needed protection, he would provide it. Apparently, he would protect her from a powerless groom at the stables, but not from a powerful duke.

*

He retreated only as far as the guest wing. A tangle of angry thoughts whirled in his brain until he stopped, leaned against the wall, and tried to sort them. His life was one wrong decision after another. He should not be here in London. That, he could solve.

There had been little enough work he could do in the lead-up to Olivia’s ball. They couldn’t have laborers tearing the place apart. But he did hire carpenters to fix the steps in the back stairway that were splitting and endangering the maids. And he’d located a mason who could investigate the damp area in the wine cellar. Finley had pointed out a few cracked windows. And the pantry shelves should be shored up or rebuilt. All Benjamin had to do was get estimates for the repairs and hire the workers. Peters could oversee them.

He breathed a little easier. Olivia could handle an elderly duke. And she would not want Jasper alienating anyone or to cause trouble for Vanessa. She would be able to gently refuse an unwanted offer. She would be refusing a number of them, he warranted.

And if Hazard’s cousin was trouble, Hazard would keep the man away from her.

He pulled himself upright and continued the trek to his rooms. Not room. Rooms. When he was young and came to visit, he’d stayed in this same wing, but in a small guest chamber that had seemed to him luxurious. He had not known what luxury was. Now he had a large bedchamber with a goose-feather mattress, curtains around the bed, a thick carpet, velvet brocade drapes, a wardrobe, a washstand, a writing desk—and that was just the bedchamber. He also had a dressing room, a sitting room, and a water closet. Three doors down, a second suite of rooms comprised a sitting room and two adjoining bedrooms, as well as a nursery.

He hadn’t planned to stay in London for more than a few weeks. Just long enough to see to repairs. So, naturally, he hadn’t looked for lodgings to lease. He’d done what was easiest. Another wrong choice.

He entered the second suite rather than his own, to spend time with Hannah and melt his irritation away. Miss Jamison looked up from her mending.

“Oh, Mr. Carroll. Good.” She stood up and tucked the cloth into a basket at her feet. “Hannah is napping. The picnic tired her. She could not stop chattering about the ducks.” She smiled. “And ‘Olly.’”

Benjamin forced a smile.

She pulled a card from her pocket. “This came for you. There will be a supper tonight. They want you to come. Hannah and I are to join Millie and Arthur in the nursery.”

Benjamin scanned the card and grimaced. At least it was no formal invitation. Just a scribbled line from Van—from Lady Iversley. Supper at nine. Please come.

“Is something amiss?” Miss Jamison asked.

“No.” He tried again to smile. “Only that I will have to clean my boots.” He drew a breath and let it out. “Since Hannah is sleeping, I’ll go get ready.”

He could use a bath and a clean shirt. And then, tomorrow, he would go to a tailor—someone cheap down by the river—and have another shirt made. Another jacket, too. It was becoming disrespectful not to have a better change of clothes.

With all the bustle of the preceding weeks, he had not had to dine with the Taverstons. They were running in six different directions at once and there were no formal suppers at home. Even tea was a haphazard affair. Half the time, Reg and Georgiana were at Watershorn, her parents’ London house, where her younger brother was down from Oxford to meet his nephew. Benjamin simply asked for trays from the kitchen. But there would likely be more invitations to join the family for supper until he escaped back to Chaumbers.

Unless he managed to have that conversation with Jasper. But already, he sensed his courage slipping away. There was no good time to tell the earl that in choosing an old friend for his steward, he had made a terrible mistake.

*

They congregated in the parlor before supper. Benjamin thought he was last to arrive, but Jasper said they were waiting for Hazard and Lord Chesterfield.

“But not Lord Chase, I hope.”

Jasper scowled. “Never.”

Benjamin went to stand by the fire. Hazard walked in the next moment. He nodded his greetings, but his expression was flat and tired. Not at all like himself.

Jasper asked, “Where is Lord Chesterfield?”

“He has left for the country. He says he hears his hounds calling.” Hazard smiled, but there was no humor in it. “But the truth is, he cannot abide London for long.”

“That is a shame.”

Hazard shrugged. “He has never liked the city.”

“Shall we go in?” the dowager asked. “I believe supper is ready.”

Jasper and Vanessa led the way. To Benjamin’s surprise, the table was elaborately set even though it was just family, and they were generally more casual at home. Jasper sat at the head, Vanessa on one side and the dowager on the other.

Benjamin found himself seated between Georgiana and Alice.

“Now,” the dowager said, “there will be no shouting across the table. No reaching. No clinking of spoons on your plates.”

Jasper laughed. “Is this to be a lesson in table manners?”

“Yes, indeed. I cannot think of the last time Olivia dined in civilized company.”

“At the balls!” Olivia cried.

“That doesn’t count. Tomorrow night we are dining with the Edgeworths.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to drive home the significance of that. Benjamin didn’t understand but the Taverstons did. They all groaned. “Enough of that. I know you will all make me proud.”

Dinner was superb. Six courses and an absurd amount of food. There were no deviations from behavior one might see at the queen’s own table. Or so Benjamin imagined. He knew enough to only talk with Georgiana and Alice and to alternate his attention between the two. He kept his voice low and said nothing of interest. He picked up the wrong fork once. Alice tapped hers twice to alert him, but Georgiana pretended not to notice, which was probably the more correct response.

It was excruciating. They were all so stiff and formal, it was like watching a play. Until dessert when Olivia picked up her glass of claret, caught it on the rim of her plate with a loud clank, and dropped it. The drink bled all over the tablecloth. Her brothers applauded. Olivia stared at the mess with open-mouthed dismay.

The dowager rose, laughing. “I give up. Go on with you.”

They all clambered from the table with alacrity. Except Hazard, who stood slowly, as if rising from slumber. He had been seated beside Olivia. When she’d spilled, Benjamin realized, Hazard had not applauded. He didn’t even laugh.

“Brandy in my study, gentlemen,” Jasper announced, continuing the parody of a formal dinner party. Benjamin felt a flash of disappointment. He’d prefer Olivia’s company to brandy.

The men and women parted outside the dining room. As the men made their way to the study, Benjamin had the strong sense that something was wrong. They filed into the room and Jasper shut the door. He retrieved a bottle and glasses from a cabinet. They each took a glass after he poured.

“We should sit,” he said, dropping into his own chair. “We may be a while.”

They sat. Benjamin was disturbed by how morose Hazard looked. Jasper regarded him with concern.

“We met your cousin at the park this afternoon.”

“Yes, I know. He mentioned it.” Hazard’s frown looked pained. “I’m sorry. I hope he wasn’t too very bothersome.”

“No. He behaved perfectly correctly. If anything, I was rude.”

Hazard didn’t respond to that. Instead, studying his glass, he said, “He appeared on my doorstep this morning. He was supposed to stay in Cumbria. That was the bargain. But he has never in his life kept his word.”

No one said anything. They drank, and Jasper got up to pour another round.

“How long does he intend to stay?”

Hazard snorted. “Until he has exhausted his credit. And mine.”

The two brothers regarded him with commiseration, but Benjamin didn’t understand. He had thought Hazard’s fortune to be inexhaustible.

Hazard slammed down his hand. “He marched into my home, mine , as if he owned the place already!”

Already?

“Throw him out,” Jasper said.

“He will not go. Am I to hire ruffians to toss him out bodily?”

“I would.”

Hazard sniffed. Then he turned to Benjamin. “Bertram is my cousin’s son, and, to my eternal regret, he is my heir. He has been living on expectations all his life and now he has decided I am not dying fast enough to suit him.” He choked and faced toward Jasper again. “He will drive me to my grave.”

Jasper made an angry grunting noise.

“The war is over. Maybe I should go to Italy.” There was a quiet desperation in Hazard’s tone. His voice dropped to barely audible. “Chester said he would come, too, if I go.”

“Haz,” Jasper murmured.

The room grew silent enough that Benjamin noticed the faint tick of the wall clock. The walls felt oppressively close.

When Hazard he spoke, it was as though tears were avoided only by anger. “He says he has come for the Season to find a wife. And that someone needs to ensure the family line. The devil of it is, he is right. Damn him.” He wrung his hands together. “And damn me for failing to do it. If he goes anywhere near Olivia, Jasper, shoot him.” Then he gasped out something that was more a sob than a laugh. “No. Have Reginald do it. You’ll miss.”

“He will not be permitted to bother Livvy,” Jasper said. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I will not waste time with Reg. I’ll call Crispin home.”

Hazard rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and said, “I am making too much of this. He has done this before. Nothing comes of it.”

“This?” Reg asked, echoing the question in Benjamin’s head.

“Makes threats.” Hazard waved his hand, dismissing whatever threats there might be. But now Benjamin had pieced it together. Why Hazard’s heir was this wastrel of a fellow and not a son of his own. Why Hazard would go to Italy. Why Lord Chesterfield would go with him. Rupe. So, it was true. This was why no clarification for “threats” was forthcoming. And why no one asked. Hazard was committing a crime punishable by execution.

Hazard drained his glass. Then resorted to his snuff box. When he seemed more in control of himself, he said, “You invited me for supper because you had something to discuss?”

“It isn’t important.”

“No? Tell me anyway.”

Jasper let out a long sigh. “Lythe asked to take Olivia out riding Friday morning.”

Hazard scowled. “Tell him ‘no.’”

“Yes, well, the problem is that Olivia already said yes.”

“Cassieopia?” Hazard said. Incomprehensibly. The men talked in code. Jasper only nodded. “He is fiendish.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “But he has not asked to call on her? Formally?”

“No. Just the ride. He made it sound like a favor he was granting.”

“Bollocks. The man is old enough to be my father. Tell him ‘no.’”

Reg stood, drawing their attention. “It is not so simple.” He spoke quietly but firmly. “Jasper’s maiden speech will be in two weeks.”

“Eulogy for your father. King and Country. We’ve defeated Napoleon. Now on with it.” Hazard almost sneered. “Not a controversial word.”

“Have you read it?” Reg asked.

“No. Not yet. Jasper has not shown it to me. He said he was still working on it.”

“Then you will be surprised. It is all that you said, but signals a shift. Father was of his time. Jasper intends to be of his.”

Hazard turned to study Jasper, then said, “Good. Let me go over it with you. Don’t come too strong. You need to bring your fellows with you before they realize what is happening.”

“I thought I would show it to Alice.”

Hazard laughed. He sounded more like himself, but not entirely. “That was my intention also.” Then he said, “Even so, I don’t think you should kowtow to Lythe.”

“There is Vanessa to think of,” Reg said.

Hazard’s eyebrows shot up. Then he frowned. “Yes. Yes, that is difficult. The man could well be vindictive.”

Jasper said, “But maybe Cassieopia…bloody hell. Olivia has been…I don’t know how to say this. She has been bearing up well. But as Vanessa points out, she shouldn’t be ‘bearing up.’ She should be enjoying herself. Any other girl would be overjoyed. I don’t know what is wrong.”

Benjamin felt kicked in the gut.

“You think she misses her horses?” Hazard sounded skeptical.

“She misses Chaumbers,” Reg said. “The horses, the country…being herself.”

Jasper flicked his hand. “She has to grow up—”

“It is not childishness!” Benjamin interrupted, unable to hold back. “It’s who she is .”

“Well, the deuce.” Jasper shifted in his chair, but with an expression more perturbed than impatient. “I just don’t like to see her long faced when she thinks no one is looking. I thought a ride on a horse like that…but I fear I’m just being selfish.”

“Probably a bit of both,” Hazard said. “I suppose she would like to go riding—”

“I’ll send Alice with them,” Jasper said, making up his mind.

“No.” Hazard sat up straight. “No, you won’t! You must stop treating Alice like some sort of paid companion.”

“I don’t—”

“Why on earth would you consider her an appropriate chaperone? She is an unmarried, lovely girl in her second Season. She is not a spinster or matron. Would you send Olivia out to chaperone Alice?”

Jasper looked as though he’d swallowed a frog. But Benjamin thought: Good. Hazard is right.

Hazard ranted on. “You expect her to be at your beck and call. She has other friends. She has interests of her own.”

“Has she complained of this?” Jasper asked, shocked. At least he did not sound indignant.

“Of course not. She is much too devoted to you all. But I have eyes.”

Jasper’s lips pursed. “You are no better. She spends her time on your political career. She writes your speeches—”

“My dear Iversley, that is one of her interests. I dare say, it is her main interest.”

Jasper clamped his mouth shut.

“I was about to say,” Hazard continued, “that if Olivia would benefit from riding, you should take her. Take her out in the early morning and let her have a good run. She doesn’t need Cassieopia. She would rather have time with her brothers, before you shove her out of the nest.”

“We aren’t shoving her out—”

“We are, Jasp. In a way, we are.” Reg turned up his hands helplessly.

“I will take her out,” Jasper said, scowling. “But if this is how she feels, a few morning rides will not change anything. And there is still Lythe to deal with. I will have to tell him ‘no’ and deal with the consequences.”

“Have your mother do it,” Hazard said.

“Mother?” He sounded startled, confused, as if Hazard were changing the subject rather than offering a solution.

“Your mother has power, Jasper. Let her use it.”

Jasper’s scowl fell away and was replaced by something softer. Gratitude? No. More than that. Benjamin saw layers and layers to their friendship.

Jasper murmured, “Don’t go to Italy, Haz.”

Hazard shrugged. “No, I don’t suppose I will. Leastwise, not until you Taverstons sort yourselves out.”