“I won’t leave you,” she said, her voice fluttering over the promise, the words feeling as weighty as if she were agreeing to a marriage. “Augustus, perhaps…”
She trailed off, unsure of whether she should suggest the idea that had occurred to her.
“Tell me.” He was still bent over the bed, his eyes blazing.
“I won’t leave you,” she said, “And what if, instead of marriage, I was your mistress. I was already, after all, once before.”
It was, she thought, all that she had ever really wanted from him. All that she had hoped for with him, back then. She merely wanted to be with him.
“Olivia, I want you to be my wife.”
“I know, and I am not sayingnoto that—not yet, anyway. But as a compromise, for now, I could be yours. In this way.”
He kissed her.
“If that is what you can give,” Augustus said, putting his fingers to her chin and kissing her once more, quickly, “Then it is what I will take.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ihave agreedto be his mistress.”
Olivia and Eloisa were alone after dinner. Natasha and Nathanial had retired to their rooms as soon as politeness would allow. Both were, doubtlessly, writing letters to the objects of their affections. Despite their both keeping frequent company with their beloveds, they each saw it as necessary to keep up a near-constant correspondence with them as well. The happy effect of this devotion was that it had recently freed up the evenings for Olivia and Eloisa to talk. Natasha’s wedding to Percy was in a mere five days, so Eloisa’s mornings and afternoons were filled with preparations. Without this convenient absence of her children, she and Eloisa would have had little opportunity to discuss their own affairs. Olivia was thankful for it.
Just that morning, Olivia had returned from Carrington Place. She had left the house in a daze, before any of the rest of the family woke, unable to believe how wholly she and Augustus had surrendered themselves to each other—and how she had resolved to compromise between what her heart wanted and her mind knew to be true.
“I thought he asked you to marry him,” Eloisa countered, looking at her above her glass of port.
“He did,” Olivia said, carefully, “And I haven’t said no. But I cannot imagine being a countess. It seems too much to agree to. Even for him.”
“You love him,” Eloisa said easily, as if it was obvious. “And yet you are not sure if you can be part of his world.”
“I do not know if his world will have me. Surely, you of all people understand that.”
Her friend nodded.
“I do. Although I must say that I’ve never regretted my decision to marry Mr. Mapperton. Even though I knew what the reactions of his relations would be.”
“But you ran off to France with Mr. Mapperton. You two made a life of your own. Augustus and I would not have that option. Besides, you were young—it is an easier thing to throw caution to the wind at twenty than my age.”
“True,” Eloisa conceded. “Nevertheless, you must be the first woman in the world who has decided to be an earl’s mistress over his wife.”
“I doubt I am the first. Perhaps, the third or the fourth.”
Eloisa laughed.
“How will this arrangement work? Will you leave us?”
Olivia winced at this suggestion. She did not like the idea of leaving the Mapperton town home or the comfort of Eloisa’s company.
“We have not discussed the details yet. I would prefer not to leave, or at least not to go far, but I do not want to make you notorious by association.”
“Do not worry about that, Olivia. I trust you to be discreet. And with Natasha wed, it could not be as great an evil, even if it were found out.”
“I am not sure how we will arrange it. Augustus and I need to discuss it.”
The thought of these logistics had not occurred to her when she had proposed this plan. She had not considered that the last time they had had an affair, they had lived in the same house. Such an arrangement was, obviously, impossible now.
“Additionally,” Eloisa said, a sly smile on her face, “You are not the only one with an illicit liaison percolating.”
