An ordinary day in the Darington house.
As soon as Jane had slipped out, so too had Olivia. She dashed to the corner where Fincham had been waiting with an un-crested carriage as promised and jumped inside the luxurious interior. And now here she was. Freezing to death.
“Why don’t you just go and warm up. I made sure the carriage can’t be seen from the path. We can easily get you in there without anyone seeing.”
Olivia counted to ten before realising it didn’t help so she turned to glare at him, ignoring the way his eyes glittered brightly in the moonlight.
“I’m not going to get into a darkened, anonymous carriage with you, Lord Fincham.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I will stay out here and await the arrival of your sister and Elliot. You will get warm. I don’t want you falling ill.”
Olivia studied his face. He seemed sincere. As though he really cared about what happened to her.
But he had hurt her three years ago, and then he had infuriated her earlier today so she couldn’t let herself think he cared about her. It was too dangerous.
She pulled the edges of her cloak tighter and mutinously turned her back on him, ignoring his long-suffering sigh.
“If you think I’m going to run away like a meek little girl while you swoop in to savemysister, you are very much mistaken,” she snapped.
She had been snapping at him all evening, she knew. Or at least for the hour they’d been standing here. At one point, she’d been afraid she’d freeze over fully. But Olivia was ready for action.
If Elliot St. Clare thought he could drag his sister down Scandal Lane and ruin her, he had another think coming.
Olivia just prayed Alexander would actually help her.
She still didn’t fully understand his commitment to saving Jane but seeing the goings on around her scared her enough to be very grateful that he was here. Though she’d die before she’d admit it to him.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the scent of sandalwood that had been driving her slowly mad, and ignoring the heat emanating from where he stood only inches from her, she cast her gaze around once more.
Such an innocuous place.
Olivia didn’t know what she’d expected really. Maybe something more flamboyant like the mazes and dark walkways of Vauxhall, or the back streets and cobbled danger zones of The Seven Dials. But it was just a lane. Not that she knew much about the place, having only heard snippets of whispered conversations deemed too inappropriate for a young debutante’s ears. It was quite pretty, in fact. Set far enough away from the main walkways that one could escape prying eyes if one wished, the trees that gave it its privacy were dusted with snow and oddly beautiful.
She’d been shocked when she’d first seen the women who looked like they should be standing by the docks and not in the middle of Hyde Park. Confused when she’d seen the young men standing about in much the same manner.
Then appalled when she’d seen a friend of her father’s stumble toward the darkness with a girl who couldn’t be older than Olivia herself.
And all the while, she was mindful of Alexander’s eyes watching her. He hadn’t been at all enamoured with the idea of her being here. But none of this was any of his business. Not really. So she ignored the disapproval coming off him in waves and was secretly pleased that he was standing here with her while she waited. And watched. And was secretly glad of his company.
Alexander releasedthe death grip on his flask of whiskey and turned to glower at a drunken idiot who had begun eyeing Olivia from across the small pond near the entrance to the Lane.
The later it got, the more hedonistic things would get around here. And he didn’t want her around it.
Elliot and Jane hadn’t yet made an appearance and Alexander was worried that Elliot had lied to him or taken Jane elsewhere when he realised Alexander hadn’t been joking when he’d warned Elliot to behave himself.
He didn’t know how long they’d been standing here. Him fussing like a damned mother hen every time he spotted a shiver from Olivia.
Once again, he pressed the flask into her hand and once again she tried to shove it back at him.
“Brandy is about the only thing that’s going to keep you warm now, Olivia,” he said softly, one eye still on the dandy weaving his way toward them.
Alexander didn’t recognise the man which was a very good thing. He didn’t want anyone in his circle knowing Olivia was here.
“Fine,” she muttered before lifting the flask to her lips and gulping from it.
Immediately her eyes filled with tears, and she coughed and spluttered as she thrust the flask back at him.
