Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

A full week elapsed after that, and Olivia found with each passing day that her husband grew more and more withdrawn. She went to bed each night, reading the book he had given her and sauntered to the library bright and early each morning, hoping he would come find her there so they might finally consummate their marriage, but she saw very little of John.

Occasionally, he would appear in the dining room during mealtimes, but when she broached several different topics of conversation, his responses were always short, clipped, and often grumbled in between taking bites of food.

Disconcerted, Olivia looked for someone to ask about her husband's behavior, but none of the servants would tell her much, even if they knew anything. Her lady's maid had come with her from her own home, so she could not shed any light on John's peculiarities. And when she approached Simmons, the old butler who she was certain must have been serving the family Frontershire for decades, all the elderly man would reveal was that the marquess did indeed have a brother named Percival.

Stymied, she wrote long letters to her friend Edith and her cousin Rose, but since Frontershire Manor was set so far out in the countryside, she knew even if her closest acquaintances could tell her anything about her new husband, she would not receive a return reply from them speedily.

So, one afternoon, when inspiration struck and she sat down to ink a missive to the Dowager Countess of Langford, certain John's auntie would be able to fill in all the missing details, Olivia was surprised to look up and see Simmons standing in the doorway to the drawing room, waiting patiently for her to notice him.

"Yes?" she asked.

"My lady." Simmons paused and bowed respectfully. "You have a visitor. Are you at your leisure presently or should I ask him to…"

"Him? But who has come calling?" Olivia's mind whirled as she hurriedly stood and brushed her fingertips over the folds of her dress. "Is it my cousin, Lord Tottingham? Has he come to see me?"

Simmons shook his head sharply, then leaned forward and whispered, "It is Lord Ridgewell, my lady. He says he is an acquaintance of yours, but if you should like not to be disturbed…"

"Oh, do show him in," Olivia insisted.

It had been weeks since she had last seen Lord Ridgewell. And on that occasion, she had disappointed him outrageously. If it would not have been terribly awkward to write him a letter this last week, she would have done as much directly. But having him here was even better, for she could make her apologies in person.

"And please…as soon as it is ready, bring us some tea."

"Yes, my lady." Simmons bowed deeply then stepped from the room.

A moment later, Lord Ridgewell appeared in his place, beaming brightly, looking just as he had on the day she met him at the dowager countess' party.

"How nice to see you," Olivia enthused, walking forward and holding out her hand to him.

Obligingly, he took her gloved hand, bowed over it respectfully, then lifted his head and gifted her with an extraordinary smile.

"I was hoping you would say as much, my lady." His grin turned sheepish. "I am afraid that things did not end so cordially between us, and I feared that in coming here, I might find myself turned away on your doorstep."

She dropped her hand back down to her side and motioned for him to take a seat at one of the available spots. He settled onto a sturdy stick chair, so she took up her post on the settee opposite him.

"If you thought there was a chance that I might have the servants send you away, why did you bother coming so far at all?"

Lord Ridgewell shrugged good-naturedly. "I owed you an apology."

Olivia stared at him. "Truly?"

"Indeed."

"Huh…" she hummed. "And here it was I who thought I should be the one to offer my sincerest regrets."

Her companion's smile turned rueful as he gave a quick shake of his head.

"I will not trifle with you, my lady. I fancied myself captivated by you. I was truly well on my way to falling in love, but when I reflected upon the proposal I made that night, I realized that I did not account for your feelings. I just assumed that you cared for me too and…"

"I did care for you," Olivia said quickly, not wanting him to shoulder all the blame for the miscommunication. "I enjoyed spending the week chatting with you, discussing our shared love of books. But…"

"But you did not love me," Lord Ridgewell completed the thought for her. "At least you did not love me the way you love Lord Frontershire."

Olivia clamped her teeth down on her tongue to stop herself from blurting the truth. She wanted to say that she was no more in love with Lord Frontershire than she was with Lord Ridgewell, but she had allowed her carnal desires to get the best of her, and because she did so, she was now dealing with the ramifications.

"As you say, my lord," Olivia murmured instead.

Thankfully, she was saved the anguish of explaining such a vague statement when one of the housemaids appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray laden with tea things and other refreshments.

"Please." Olivia tipped her head at the maid. "Do enter."

Over the course of the next quarter hour, Olivia and Lord Ridgewell had a pleasant enough discussion. While she served him tea and he helped himself to a biscuit, they talked of their shared acquaintances and discussed the books that were currently stacked on their nightstands. Olivia blushed when she thought of the book John had given her, the one that had taught her so much about what to expect now that she was married woman, but she did not mention anything about the volume to her guest.

Near the end of the hour, Lord Ridgewell shifted in his seat then stood. "I believe it is time for me to go, my lady," he said.

"Oh?" Olivia returned as she slowly rose to her feet. "Must you?" She had been incredibly lonely this last week and was reluctant to see her visitor leave so soon.

"Do not worry," he said as his happy smile spread wide across his face. "I intend to spend the rest of the summer in the country with friends, and we are just three miles down the road."

"Three miles?" Olivia questioned. "But that must have been quite a ride this morning."

He snickered. "Not so very far, my lady. Not when I knew that I would be greeted by a friend as lovely as yourself."

He took her hand once more and made a stiff bow over it then before he let go of her gloved fingertips, he added, "I do not want there to be hard feelings between us. I see now that you were not to blame for being caught up in Lady Emerton's elaborate scheme. And I would like you to know that I feel sorry for how things proceeded from there."

He closed his eyes and shook his head warily. "My sympathies go out to you, for I never would have imagined when I walked away that I was leaving you to wed a man like Lord Frontershire."

Olivia's fingers twitched, and she wished to pull her hand from his, but he held her steady. She was stunned by this turn in the conversation. He had been so thoughtful before, allowing that she must have been in love with Lord Frontershire, and it was those tender affections which compelled her to marry him. But now, he seemed to imply that she had no choice in the matter.

So, she replied, "What do you mean, my lord? My husband is…"

"Your husband is a notorious rake," he said as the genial smile slipped from his face. "It brings me nothing but anguish to think that he wed you and then…" He paused and shook his head. "I will not say it, but since I have found you on your own this afternoon, I can only conjecture that once the marriage contract was signed, he abandoned you, so he might scamper off and once more pursue his own hedonistic desires."

Olivia just stared at Lord Ridgewell. Before this very moment, she had not imagined him capable of saying something so disparaging. But worse than that, she had not thought John's withdrawn attitude and reluctance to be in her presence had anything to do with him seeking comfort in the arms of a mistress elsewhere.

"But we are newlyweds," she managed to say in a thin voice that revealed her struggles. "Surely, you cannot think so poorly…"

"I do not think poorly of you , my lady," Lord Ridgewell interrupted. "That is truly why I came to offer you my friendship. I know that you cannot trust your husband, and so, if the day ever comes when you find yourself needing a stalwart companion, I hope you will call upon me."

"I…I will," Olivia murmured.

Her eyes followed Lord Ridgewell and that was when Olivia sighted her husband.

"My lord." Her voice came out a bit like a squeak.

John eyed Lord Ridgewell coldly. "Ridgewell," he said brusquely. "Did we have business together?"

"No," Lord Ridgewell replied as a jovial grin slid onto his face. "I came to visit with the lady of the house."

John's dark eyebrows lifted faintly. "You came to call upon my wife?"

Olivia could hear something shading John's words. He was not wholly surprised, but perhaps there was a touch of disbelief there.

Or maybe John is feeling something else. Perhaps he is remembering how not so very long ago, Lord Ridgewell was the one who…

"We are friends," Lord Ridgewell replied, cutting short Olivia's roving thoughts.

John snorted, then swept his hand broadly. "How convenient." His eyes slid toward Olivia's for a fraction of a second, then returned to Ridgewell. "Let us get you to the stables so we may hurry you back to…wherever you came from before."

Olivia did not miss the way John delivered that address. It was as if he was flustered and suddenly knew not how to proceed.

But Lord Ridgewell did not falter. "I would appreciate it if my carriage could be called round."

"I…" Once more, John faltered. He glared at Lord Ridgewell, then sent a glance toward Olivia.

Without finishing his thought or even pegging together something that could be deemed coherent, John turned about and marched away. Olivia could hear his heavy tread down the hall, and she simply stared at the open doorway, stymied by his behavior, and wondering what could have upset him so greatly.