“Oh, yes. So she was.” He rolled the tumbler of whiskey between his palms. “I seem to remember you had some other name for her, though for the life of—”
“Honey,” said Olivia. “I called her Honey.”
“By God, that is it exactly. What became of her? I wonder.”
Olivia did not respond, nor did it seem her father expected that she would. She was careful not to twist her hands together or fidget with the folds of her gown. He would see through both those things to the very heart of her fear.
“It is no matter, really. She was an unpleasant sort, as I recall, though you seemed to like her well enough. Is that why you’re using her name?”
“Should I have used my own?”
Sir Hadrien ignored that. “You are under Breckenridge’s protection, is that right?”
“I am his mistress.”
“His whore.”
“No.”
“His whore,” he repeated. “He knew who you were at the outset, and he still made you his whore.”
Olivia wondered what she might say.I was your whore first. She pressed her lips together to keep that thought silent. “Perhaps you should tell me why you’ve come.”
“Reparations, naturally. I confess, it did not occur to me that you didn’t know. I’m here so amends might be made.”
Amends? She could not help but frown. That her father should be speaking in such a fashion was unnatural. She was not so naive that she supposed he was bent on making amends toward her. Had he not just called her a whore? She settled on the only explanation that made sense. “So you are here to settle Alastair’s debt, then. I should fetch Breckenridge. He has the full accounting of what is owed.”
Sir Hadrien set his glass down hard. He had the satisfaction of seeing Olivia start. She had already taken one step away from the desk and toward the door, and now she stood perfectly still, wary and waiting. He gathered the threads of his composure because he could afford to be generous with her now. “Is it possible that you have become so foolish, my dear? You very much mistake the matter. I am here for what is owed me.”
Knowing that Sir Hadrien fed on her fear, Olivia forced herself to fully face him. She set her hands behind her and curled her fingers around the edge of the desk. There was little she could do about the heat and color in her cheeks, but she managed to draw a breath through narrowly parted lips and release it very slowly. Her heart thrummed, one beat indistinguishable from the next.
She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “I’m unaware of any debt that is owed you.”
“I see I must say it more plainly, though it is a disappointment. I am here for the ring, Olivia. I will have it returned to me.”
“Perhaps I am as foolish as you’ve noted, but I fail to understand how you mean to take it back without settling Alastair’s debt.”
“Your brother settled his debt twice over, once when he surrendered the ring, and again when he offered you in place of it. Now Breckenridge is in possession of both, and I find that insupportable.” He took up his drink again and sipped. “The alternative is that you leave with me, but you can imagine I am reluctant to ask it of you.”
Olivia was glad of her grip on the desk. Her knees felt as if they might give way. “I am of no value to you on the marriage mart.”
“I believe you overstate it. Let us agree that it is difficult to gauge how advantageous a marriage you might make. I am fully appreciative of the effort that has been made to separate your behavior and circumstances from the family name. There is no blemish attached. That was well done of you.”
“It was well done of Breckenridge. I was all for acknowledging my own name. It is a source of pride to me, after all.”
Sir Hadrien did not miss Olivia’s subtle ironic inflection and chose his response carefully. “Ah, yes, you would sacrifice your nose for your face. It was ever your way.”
Olivia merely shrugged.
“I can think of several gentlemen of my acquaintance who would be willing to settle for a wife such as you might be.”
“Truly? I’d always imagined your friends held the same lofty standards as you.”
Showing impatience with her tone, his mouth flattened briefly. “Reginald Sewell, for one.” When she looked at him blankly, he clarified, “Lord Pearce.”
“The name means nothing to me. I have been out of society.”
“So you have, but that was your own doing. Pearce might be a good prospect. He was recently widowed, and his children are grown with children of their own. He would not expect you to bear him a child.”
