The Captured Lord (The King's League)

“Nothing shall befall you,” he said, suddenly filled with a new energy. “You know how I feel when it comes to you, Lady Olivia. No harm shall come to you, no ruining of your reputation or the like. I promise you that, should you be willing to trust me, I will give you all that I have as your own.”

There was a long silence. Phillip could barely breathe such was the tension in his stomach. How he longed to see Lady Olivia, to see the expression on her face so that he might know what she was thinking. As it stood, he could see nothing and was forced to wait, wondering desperately what was in her mind, what was in her heart. Would she choose her family or would she be willing to turn to him?

“I…I thought that such an interest might be nothing more than a ruse,” came Lady Olivia’s voice, quiet and frail in comparison to her usual vigor. “You did not only pretend an interest in me in order to grow closer to my family?”

He shook his head, as though she could see him. “No,” he promised, trying to fill his words with as much fervor as he could. “No, I did not. Everything I have said to you, everything I have asked you, has been nothing but the truth, Lady Olivia. I have longed to draw near to you, yearned to have your hand on my arm and your company by my side. I have never even considered matrimony, and now I find myself almost lost in the desire to do just that!” A small, wry laugh escaped him. “I am foolish even in my own eyes, but I can give you my word, Lady Olivia, that everything I have ever said to you is nothing but the truth.”

Again came the silence. Phillip waited to hear what she would say, wanted her to confirm that, yes, she would turn to him in the difficulties that would follow, but the silence was broken only by the sound of hurried footsteps. The air began to fill with tension as he heard the sound of a key being placed in the lock and, just as he stepped back, the door opened, and he was faced with the maid and Lady Olivia, both staring at him with wide eyes and pale faces. A single candle was held in the maid’s hand as she watched him, clearly astonished by his presence and certainly not at all clear as to what she ought to do.

“Where is your uncle this evening?” Phillip asked, taking a step forward and holding onto the door frame in an attempt to build his strength a little more. “Is he gone from the house?”

Lady Olivia nodded, putting one hand out slowly towards him. Phillip caught it as best he could, holding onto her fingers tightly and looking down into her face, knowing just what he was asking of her.

“Do you know where he is gone?” he asked quietly, as Lady Olivia blinked rapidly, tears pooling in her eyes. “I must know, Lady Olivia. If I am to stop this, then I must know it.”

“Of course,” Lady Olivia whispered, clearly deeply distressed. “He is gone to Lord Waterston’s home. They are to play cards there, I believe.”

He took a step forward, holding her hand tightly. “Then I must go there at once.” Trying to move forward, he took another staggering step, not quite managing to keep his footing. His vision became a little blurred as the pain in his head grew all the more steadily, forcing him to take an even tighter hold of Lady Olivia’s hands. “Or just as soon as I can manage.”

Lady Olivia swallowed hard but did not pull her hands from his, looking up into his face with concern. “I think we must inform Lord Watt that you are present here first,” she said carefully, as he swayed, his head still aching. “You cannot go and face my uncle alone, surely, not in this state?”

The maid, who had closed the door and locked it tightly, turned back to her mistress, a steely look in her eyes. “My lady is right,” she said firmly. “We must get you to a room where you will have a chance to lie down and recover. I will go to Lord Watt’s home at once and bring him here.”

Phillip opened his mouth to protest, about to state that he could not possibly be alone with Lady Olivia for fear of the scandal that might be caused should someone stumble in upon them, only to see Lady Olivia nodding. Clearly, she knew what the risks were, but she also was aware that he could not simply march out after her uncle, even though he might wish it. Everything in him wanted to run out to the street, to hail a hackney and to make his way to Lord Waterston’s, but given that he could barely walk without staggering and that his head ached so terribly he feared his skull was broken, Phillip knew there was very little sense in disagreeing.

“Do you think you will be able to climb the staircase?” Lady Olivia asked anxiously, wrapping one arm about his as the maid took the other. “I am not certain how we shall get you above stairs without someone noticing otherwise. I shall put you in the guest bedchamber, Lord Monteforte, and stay with you there.”

The maid hesitated, looking at Lady Olivia. “I will create a distraction below stairs,” she said slowly, as Lady Olivia nodded. “Lord Monteforte, do you think you can climb the staircase if Lady Olivia helps you?”

Phillip felt like saying that, at the present moment, he felt as though he might cast up his accounts, given how badly his stomach was now roiling, but all he could do was nod.

“Good,” the maid said firmly. “I will put the key back in the master’s study and then go below stairs. You will still have the maids in Lady Margaret’s rooms to contend with, but I will pray that they will stay where they belong and not trouble you.”

“We will have to go as quickly as we can,” Lady Olivia whispered, almost apologetically. “I am sorry if it adds to your pain.”

He shook his head then immediately regretted it. “I will manage,” he said through gritted teeth. “And then you must send word to Lord Watt. I know he will come here at once.”

Lady Olivia nodded but did not smile, her face set with a stern determination he had never seen before. With a look to her maid, she stepped forward and helped him walk across the ballroom, a strong anchor by his side. Giving into her strength and acknowledging his own weakness, Phillip forced himself to concentrate solely on putting one foot in front of the other, biting his lip against the pain in his head and praying that he would manage the staircase. The thought of putting his head down on

a soft pillow seemed to be heaven to him, although he prayed that he would recover enough to aid Lord Watt when he arrived.

“I shall send for tea and refreshments to my own room and then will bring them to you,” Lady Olivia whispered, as the maid scurried away and as the staircase loomed before him. “You will be yourself again very soon, Lord Monteforte, I am sure of it.”

He swallowed hard, not able to give her an immediate answer because of the pain. “I must hope so,” he whispered eventually. “I thank you, Lady Olivia, for your kindness and your willingness to help me, even though I am aware it comes at a cost.”

Her eyes caught his for just a moment, and then she turned away again. “I have made my choice,” she said simply, sending his heart soaring. “And I will face the consequences, whatever they might be.”

Chapter Twelve

Sending a footman to call Lord and Lady Watt to the townhouse without any sort of explanation had been simple enough, although Olivia had been forced to threaten the young man with his job and livelihood if he breathed a word to anyone as to what he had been sent to do. Of course, she did not have the authority to do such a thing, but the footman had not seemed to be aware of this and had gone rather pale when she had spoken with such unequivocal determination. He had scurried off over an hour ago and, as yet, had not returned.

Lord Monteforte was, at present, reclining on the bed in the guest bedchamber, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. She had insisted that he eat and drink something before he lay down and, whilst he had evidently been desperate to lie down, he had done as she asked and, to her eyes at least, looked a little better for it. He had been asleep for an hour now and Olivia prayed that his sleep would do him good, especially after what he had endured. Quite how her uncle could have done such a terrible thing, she did not know, but she was determined not to let him carry on with his intentions.

The shock of what Lord Monteforte had revealed had not quite left her as yet, for it had come as such an astonishment that it had stolen her breath and left her feeling so weak that she had almost stumbled back in fright. Not that Lord Monteforte had been able to see her, given that he had been behind the door, but she had a feeling that he somehow knew precisely how the shock had overwhelmed her.

To know that her uncle had beaten Lord Monteforte and dragged him into his home was horrifying enough, but to discover that he was now involved in a treasonous plot was quite another. Her uncle had never shown such a dislike of the monarchy before, had never once suggested that the Prince should be removed from his role as regent or the like, and yet Lord Monteforte was now the one telling her that he had heard it from Lord Dayton’s lips himself. Not that she was inclined to disbelieve him, of course, but it was more that she simply could not yet take it in.

Moving towards Lord Monteforte, Olivia sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and tentatively brushed his hair away from his forehead. He had turned out to be a gentleman of honor, a gentleman who was not the arrogant, cruel man she had believed him to be at the first. And now he was to be the gentleman who would take her away from all of this, who would offer her not only his home but his heart, should she accept it. There was no question in Olivia’s mind any longer, for she knew full well that all that Lord Monteforte held out to her, she wanted to grasp and take a hold of. She wanted to accept it; she wanted to be to him what he wanted to be to her. Her heart lifted from its sorrows as she looked down into his sleeping face. Here was a gentleman with a gentler heart and a kinder spirit than any other she had known before. How blessed she was to have him stand by her side when the darkness began to swell around her, threatened to capture her and carry her away. Whatever was to come – and she knew it would be a good deal of difficulty, strife, and sorrow – he would be there to hold her aloft, to keep her away from it all as best he could, and Olivia loved him for it.