Led Astray by a Rake (The Husband Hunters Club 1)

He could feel Abbot’s eyes on him, boring a disapproving hole into his back. The manservant hadn’t believed him when he said he’d marry Olivia. He thought it was a stupid idea. Before now Nic had thought it a stupid idea, too. Had he really changed his mind?

Nic slipped back inside the bedchamber. Olivia was still sleeping, her yellow hair a bright splash on the pillows, and Nic stood a moment, watching her. He let himself imagine what it would be like if she were here every day of his life, just for a single, brief moment, and then he shut his mind down.

Olivia stretched and opened her eyes. She could smell food, delicious food. She rolled over and saw that someone had brought a banquet. There were steaming dishes, bowls of fruit, champagne sitting in ice, and a delicious-looking cake decorated with cream and strawberries.

“Oh,” she groaned.

Nic chuckled. He was standing by the window, bare-chested, his trousers low about his hips, his hair tousled, with the light slanting across his face.

“Nic, I am so hungry…”

She climbed from the bed, peering into the dishes and under the plate warmers, dipping her finger into a bowl of syllabub, and plucking one of the strawberries from the cake.

“What will we have first?” she said, glancing up at him as he came to join her.

“Whatever you want.”

It felt decadent, exciting, and all the other things she’d been longing to bring into her life.

Nic began to load a plate. They ended up sprawled on the bed, eating and drinking. Afterward they made love, slowly and thoroughly, and went back to sleep in each other’s arms. Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive, her mind and body humming, and it was like a dash of cold water when it ended.

There were more respectable clothes to change into, and she left the black velvet and silk dress lying forlorn on the bed. Nic left her alone to wash and dress, and she was just finishing pinning up her hair when he returned with her cloak.

“You have to go,” Nic said, drawing the warm garment about her. “Abbot has arranged everything.”

“Of course,” she agreed, while in her heart Olivia wanted to stay forever. “When will I see you again?”

He avoided her eyes. “Who can say?”

She’d wanted him to say, Come again soon, or better still, I can’t live without you, but it was clear to her now he would say neither. She had won the battle but the war still hung in the balance, and as she stood before him she wondered whether she’d ever bring it to a satisfactory conclusion.

He pulled her hood up over her hair and bent to kiss her lips, gently and without passion, and she sensed him withdrawing from her. Was that what he did with all those other women, once the liaison was over? Remove himself emotionally as well as physically, as if they’d never existed as a couple?

Olivia told herself, a little desperately, that it wasn’t going to happen with her. If necessary she’d camp on his front steps.

“Come on,” he said, moving to the door. “Abbot will meet us at the coach. He believes in punctuality.”

In no time, they were outside and following the winding path that led through the shrubbery.

“Where are we going?” she asked him, feeling the dew-damp grass soaking through her thin slippers. “I thought there was a coach waiting.”

“There is. Abbot arranged for it to collect you some way along the road beyond the village. If we cut across the garden and the park, then beside the gatehouse, we will be able to reach it without being seen.”

“Abbot has gone to a great deal of trouble.”

“Yes. The coach,” he explained, “was even hired under a false name. If he is asked, the driver is under instructions to say he has driven you from London and your friend’s house. Abbot is doing his best to protect your reputation, Olivia.”

“Yes, I see Abbot is ve

ry thorough. Perhaps he’s had a great deal of practice?” she suggested evenly, casting him a sideways glance.

“Perhaps he has,” Nic said dryly, “and he never fails to let me know he disapproves of the necessity. Sometimes he’s like an old nursery maid.”

Olivia drew her skirts aside to avoid catching them on a hedge. “He thinks you could do better with your life. He knows that you are a good man, Nic, just as I do.”

He turned to look at her, and even in the darkness she thought she saw pity in his eyes. “Olivia, you don’t know me.”

Olivia gave a smile. “But I do know you.”