The Captured Lord (The King's League)

There was nothing Olivia could do but nod. “Yes, Aunt,” she said clearly, knowing that her aunt would not accept her mumbling. “In half an hour. Of course.” She painted a smile on her face and waited for her aunt to leave the bedchamber, finally collapsing into a chair the moment the door closed behind her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but Olivia pushed them away with ease, having felt this very same emotion many, many times before. Her uncle and aunt were not cruel by any means, but they did not truly care for her and nor did they make any attempts to hide their lack of consideration. When her father had died some seven years ago, his brother – her uncle – had taken both the title and the estate and had begrudgingly accepted the responsibility of taking Olivia into his care also. How Olivia had struggled when her uncle had made the estate his own, tearing things from the walls and replacing what her father had once loved with what he himself thought appropriate. She had been forced to accept the company of her two cousins, who were both dark haired and brown eyed in comparison to her pale features. They had not much to say to Olivia and had become a little more aloof when they discovered that Olivia’s late father had left her both an excellent dowry and a small fortune, which would be released to her when she was twenty-one years of age – but only if she was wed. If she was not, then it would be held back until such a time came about. The fortune would remain solely hers and would not go to her husband, which was something of a relief, but still it counted on Olivia finding a suitable husband.

Perhaps that was why her aunt had been so determined to thrust her own daughters forward in place of Olivia, since they had no great dowry nor fortune of their own to speak of. Although Olivia privately thought that if she were to wed first, then surely that would remove the burden from her aunt and uncle, and in turn, it would permit her cousins to garner all the attention possible. But no, it seemed that such a thing was not possible, for her aunt and uncle wanted their daughters to marry first—and therefore they gave Olivia very little attention. This was not even to be her Season! Yes, she was out, and yes, she could dance, converse, laugh, and enjoy her time here in London, but she would not be permitted to court or any such thing. It had to be her cousins first and herself at the last.

Sighing heavily again, Olivia rose to her feet and let her skirts swish about her, trying to find some sort of contentment with the gown she was to wear, trying to find something good about it that might lift her spirits, but all she could see was grey. Shaking her head, she was about to slump down into her chair again, only for her maid to appear.

“The mistress says you are not to be late, Lady Olivia!” she exclaimed, hurrying towards Olivia and giving her a sharp look that came from years of both loyalty and friendship – however much of a friendship one could have with a maid. “Come now, you will need your earbobs and a locket, I think.” The maid, Betty, tilted her head this way and that, scrutinizing Olivia with a well-trained eye. “And some pearls in your hair too, I think.”

“Very well,” Olivia murmured, as the maid went in search of such pieces. “Although I do not think it will do much good, given just how dull I am at present.”

Betty did not say anything in response to this, fastening a single silver pendant around Olivia’s neck and handing her the ear bobs after that.

“If you would sit, Lady Olivia,” the maid said, a little sharply. “We only have a few minutes until you will be required below stairs.” Deftly, she began to add some seed pearls to Olivia’s hair, bringing a little more shine and a little more light into Olivia’s grey visage. “There now, my lady. Do you see the difference?”

Olivia looked back at her reflection in the mirror and was surprised to see a little more brightness in her face. The gown was still the same color as before, the color still faded from her cheeks, but the jewelry seemed to mitigate it somewhat, as though drawing the attention away from just how gloomy she felt.

“And there is a little rouge here,” the maid murmured, tugging open one of Olivia’s drawers and pulling out a very small tin which, Olivia knew, would have shocked her aunt to know was even present in this house. “Why do you not add the smallest amount to your cheeks?” A faint look of anger was in Betty’s eyes as she handed Olivia the tin, before turning her head to go in search of a brush. “Just a little, mind,” she said as a warning. “Not too much else Lady Dayton will notice and then we both know what will happen!”

Olivia found herself smiling fondly at Betty, as she handed Olivia the brush for the rouge. “You are very kind to me, Betty,” she said softly, looking at her reflection and adding just the smallest amount of rouge to each cheek, brightening her appearance all the more. “You have always been.” Betty had been Olivia’s lady’s maid for many years and had become all the more protective over her since Olivia’s father had died. It had been a blessing that the new Earl of Dayton had agreed that Betty might stay on as Olivia’s maid, and for that, Olivia was truly grateful. Betty, she was sure, saw how Olivia was treated, even though it was never expressly said that Olivia was a little less in her aunt and uncle’s eyes than that of their own daughters, and thus, Betty had become a little more protective of Olivia. She always made sure Olivia was perfectly turned out, offered encouraging words when Olivia was in the depths of despair, and was always ready to listen to whatever Olivia had to say. They were much more than mere servant and lady, for there was a depth to their companionship that Olivia appreciated desperately – and all the more so on days like this!

“There,” Betty said, looking at Olivia’s reflection with satisfaction. “You look quite lovely, my lady.”

Olivia smiled back at Betty, seeing how just the smallest touches had made her appear much more improved than before. There was a touch of color in her cheeks now, and with the jewelry sparkling around her neck and in her hair, Olivia felt as though she might actually garner a second look from one or two gentlemen. Whilst her aunt and uncle did not want her to be courting anyone this Season so that their daughters could be the ones to do so, surely they would not prevent her from such a thing, if it was requested.

“Thank you, Betty,” she said, getting to her feet and smoothing her hands down her gown – a gown that seemed a good deal less odious than before. “You have done a remarkable job, and I am truly grateful to you.”

Betty bobbed a quick curtsy, although Olivia could see the smile in her eyes. “It is my pleasure, my lady,” she told Olivia, who believed every word. “I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

“I am sure I will,” Olivia answered, pressing her maid’s hands and looking down into Betty’s face, seeing the lines across her forehead and next to her eyes and knowing just how much of a bond had been forged over the years. “You have always been quite wonderful to me, and I am truly grateful.” Letting go of Betty’s hands, she smoothed her skirts once more and then lifted her chin, a proud smile on her face. “Now, you must enjoy your eveni

ng also, for I will not need you when I return.” Seeing Betty about to protest, she held up one hand. “I am sure one of my cousins will oblige me, or even my aunt herself, if I have any difficulties in removing myself from this gown. Now, I must go before my aunt is angry with me.” A slight strain crawled into her smile as she turned to hurry towards the door, knowing that her aunt would be more than willing to find any sort of fault she could with Olivia, should she be even a little tardy. Hurrying down the stairs, she saw with relief that both of her cousins were only just now making their way to the drawing room and quickened her steps so that she might join them. Her aunt could not criticize her if she was only a step or two behind her cousins!

“Good evening,” Margaret murmured, throwing a quick glance behind her, her dark eyes assessing Olivia. “You are quite prepared for this evening?”

“I am,” Olivia answered, not allowing her cousin’s question to strike at her confidence. “More than prepared.” She herself took in her cousins’ gowns, seeing Margaret’s pale yellow and Louisa’s light green gown. They matched their coloring very well indeed, emphasizing the darkness of their eyes and the swirling hazelnut tresses that were curled up on their heads at present. Her cousins were not markedly beautiful but still striking, and Olivia was sure that gentlemen aplenty would come to seek them out.

“You are not late, Olivia,” her aunt said, sounding quite astonished as though she had been expecting that very thing. “Goodness. Then, I suppose, we are all prepared.”

“Where is father?” Louisa asked, her voice a little tense. “You know we cannot attend without him.”

Lady Dayton waved a hand. “You need not fret, Louisa dear. He is finishing up a little business in the study and will join us just as soon as he is able.” She smiled affectionately at her daughter. “We will wait in the carriage for him, and I will send the butler to inform him that we are awaiting his company.”

This seemed to satisfy Louisa, who could not, it seemed, bear the thought of attending the first ball of the Season without her father present. Olivia, who had never had a father to attend with, tried not to feel the ball of pain that forced its way down her throat to writhe around in her belly, feeling sudden tears prick at her eyes as she recalled her own dear father. Having never known her mother, who had died giving birth to Olivia, she had only ever had her father—and to lose him also had been very painful indeed.

“Are you quite ready, Olivia?”

The sharpness of her aunt’s voice brought Olivia back to the present with a start. She smiled tightly at her aunt, pushing away her pain and nodding, seeing how her cousins were now at the door, standing waiting for her.

“No doubt dreaming of the gentleman who will come to court her,” said Louisa to Margaret, sharing a smirk that sent a fresh stab of both anger and upset into Olivia’s heart. She was all too aware that her cousins knew of their mother and father’s lack of true consideration for Olivia and they never once permitted themselves to show any sort of kindness either. They continued to behave as though they were better than Olivia in many ways, holding themselves almost aloof as they went about their business. It was yet another thing that Olivia had to endure, gritting her teeth as she forced herself to walk towards them, keeping her stormy grey eyes fixed on their faces in an attempt to show how little she cared.

Her cousins said nothing more, although Margaret dropped her gaze and turned away, walking through the hallway towards the front door. Olivia waited until Lady Dayton had taken Louisa by the arm and followed after her eldest daughter, leaving Olivia to trail behind. Keeping her chin lifted, Olivia walked quickly after them, determined not to allow their indifference to affect her. She had dealt with it for many years now. Another Season would not make any difference, Olivia was quite determined. She would hold her head high and make the best of the evening, even if she was confined to the shadows whilst her cousins dazzled in the candlelight. They would not break her spirit, nor her hopes and dreams. Those still lingered, still were confined close to her heart, and no matter how little care they showed her, Olivia was determined not to let them fade.

Chapter Two

“You have been invited to their card game?”

Phillip nodded as Lord Watt tilted his head, a spark of interest in his eyes.

“It has taken some doing,” he said a little ruefully. “I was introduced to Lord Dayton last Season although I have continued the acquaintance these last few months and–”