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

“Mrs. Monteith!” he cried, all smiles. “And Miss Monteith! I am doubly blessed.”

Olivia gritted her teeth. His jovial tones were out of place in this emotion-charged moment, but he didn’t seem to notice his hosts were not overjoyed to see him.

“Mr. Garsed, what a pleasant surprise,” Olivia lied politely.

“I thought I would take a stroll in the fresh air. Nothing like a brisk stroll to focus the mind. And I wanted to share my news—my brother, Alphonse, has arrived!”

“Indeed, Mr. Garsed.” Olivia didn’t have a clue what he was talking about; she wished he would leave.

But Theodore had no intention of leaving. He turned to her mother, taking her hand in his own, gazing down into her eyes as if he were a vicar offering comfort to the bereaved. It was very odd, and Olivia didn’t know what to make of it. “Was that Miss Dorrington I saw leaving just now?”

“Yes, it was,” Olivia answered when it seemed her mother couldn’t.

Theodore nodded as if he understood everything, which annoyed her even more. “I was afraid it might be. I do abhor gossip. And yet, unfortunately, it is so often true.”

Mrs. Monteith swallowed and gave a little moan.

“Actually, I have come to you on a quest, dear madam.”

“A quest, Mr. Garsed?” Olivia knew she sounded bewildered but she couldn’t help it.

“A quest for my own particular Holy Grail,” he said, still looking into Mrs. Monteith’s eyes, his words heavy with meaning.

“Are you telling us you’re a knight of the Round Table, Mr. Garsed?” Olivia said irritably, very unlike her usual calm and polite self.

“I believe, at heart, that’s what I am,” he replied seriously. “A knight on a white charger, and a rescuer of maidens in distress.”

Mrs. Monteith finally seemed to have an inkling of what he was talking about. “Oh, Mr. Garsed,” she gasped, and to Olivia’s dismay, tears filled her mother’s eyes.

“Mr. Garsed, I don’t mean to be rude,” Olivia began firmly, “but I think you should—”

And then it happened. Again. The door knocker sounded.

“For heaven’s sake,” she began, as the servant rushed to answer the door, “I really think we have had enough visitors this morning…”

And then a frisson ran through her, as she heard Nic Lacey’s deep voice. Her throat dried up and she could only stare as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him. Nic was not the sort of man to make a casual visit, and his appearance this morning was certainly anything but casual.

The perfectly tailored jacket and trousers, the shirt beautifully white and starched, an elegant brown waistcoat with yellow buttons. The cane he carried could have been a fashionable affectation, but Olivia knew he still needed it to help him walk. He looked everything that was handsome and dashing, but as he drew closer the shadows under his eyes and the creases about his mouth made her wonder if he had slept much after she left him last night.

“Mrs. Monteith. Miss Monteith.” He bowed elegantly before them.

“Lord Lacey,” Mrs. Monteith mouthed, her eyes wild.

“What are you doing here, Lacey?” Mr. Garsed’s jolly mood had evaporated at the sight of the other man, and now his face was flushed a dull red. “I wonder you have the gall to set foot in this house!”

Nic gave Theodore a bored look. “At least I am dressed for calling on ladies,” he mocked. “Where on earth did you get that waistcoat, Theodore? The church jumble?”

“How dare you!”

Their animosity seemed all out of proportion, and Olivia stepped between them, holding out her hands to stop them from coming to blows. “Please, gentlemen,” she said coldly. “If you must fight over who has the most fashionable waistcoat, then do so outside.”

Theodore cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Miss Monteith, but this man should not be here. I don’t want to upset you, but…well, the rumors…the gossip. I meant to keep silent, because I really don’t believe for a moment it can be true. But now, with this man being here, I can’t help but wonder—”

“Lord Lacey has as much right to call here as you,” Olivia cut him short, feeling cross. “I don’t know what this is all about but I wish someone would explain it to me.”

“Olivia,” her mother hissed, catching her arm.

“I must…I really must talk to you. Now!”