Pressley would rue the day he ever laid hands on Olivia. He knew the young buck’s father and would have a word with him, in addition to getting him banned from every club Robertson was a member of. A few well-placed whispers in the ears of some very influential hostesses that he would not attend their event if Pressley was invited should seal the deal. Pressley would have no choice once all those pieces fellinto place—he’d either have to rusticate in the country for a good long while or go abroad. Robertson didn’t care which option he chose as long as he paid for his transgressions against Olivia. It would also save any young lady in the future from being mistreated by him.
He went back inside and found Noah talking with Miles.
“Where’s Lady Armstrong?” Noah asked. “Didn’t you just go out to the garden to meet her?”
“There was a bit of an incident out there.”
“What do you mean?” Miles asked. “What kind of incident?”
“Pressley.”
“That bloody bastard,” Miles exclaimed. “I warned him to stay away from the lady.”
“Well, he didn’t heed your warning, but he’ll pay the consequences,” Robertson said before explaining his plan to ban Pressley from as many places in London as he could.
“Let me inform Lady Williams what has happened. She’ll want to go to her friend,” Noah said, striding off toward the refreshment table.
Robertson was at a loss for what else to do. Olivia didn’t want to see him. He could understand her being upset, but he’d thought they’d grown close enough for her to confide in him. He’d believed his actions this week had conveyed the depth of his admiration forher and thought she understood his feelings, but something was wrong.
When he’d told her how much he admired her—more than any other woman of his acquaintance—she’d stiffened before rushing away.
What had he done to make her even more upset?
He had no idea.
Olivia breathed a sigh of reliefwhen she entered her bedchamber. No one had seen her come upstairs or witnessed the state of her dress.
Some men were beasts and, in her opinion, irredeemable. To lay hands on a woman was a cardinal sin in her book. She’d had enough of that during her marriage and never wanted to be in that position again.
She was so grateful that Everett had found her.
Everett.
She’d thought he was the one—the one that made her heart sing with joy at the mere sight of him, the one that made life worth living. Apparently, he didn’t feel the same way. Admiration wasn’t nearly enough to tempt her into marriage again.
She wanted love and a true partnership. There could be no other way for her.
A knock on her door threw her into a panic. No onemust see her in this state.
“Liv, it’s me. Please open the door.”
Olivia exhaled in relief and rushed to unlock and open the door.
“Oh, Liv,” Bett said as she squeezed inside and closed the door behind her, locking it again. “Mr. Hughes said something happened in the garden and you needed my help.”
Olivia nodded, tears flowing down her cheeks again.
Bett looked at her still holding the front of her dress against her chest, and inhaled sharply. “Who did this to you?”
“Pressley,” she sputtered between sobs.
Bett was momentarily stunned but quickly moved to Oliva. “My dear, let me help you out of that dress.”
Olivia nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh Bett, everything’s ruined now.”
