Page 79 of Waiting for Love

Benjamin paced at the foot of the Taverstons’ grand staircase, gathering courage to go up.

Perhaps the mistake had been going on the outing in the first place. He’d gotten caught up in the innocent idyll. Simply being with Olivia and Hannah… He’d been happy—an emotion he barely recognized. Until he saw that elaborate picnic spread out for them up on the hill. All the hard work of Jasper’s servants and the Taverstons’ casual disregard for the effort. Once again, Benjamin felt himself and Hannah suspended between two worlds.

He had to start teaching Hannah now, now, that the world would not always be kind. And it would be even more unkind if she did not understand her place in it.

But none of this was Jasper’s fault. Benjamin mounted the stairs. The door to the study was ajar. He raised his hand to knock. Reg’s voice stopped him. “But has he asked?”

Benjamin paused, dropping his hand. Then raised it again. No excuses. Just as well to talk to the both of them.

“No, not yet. Not in so many words. But I fear this is prelude. He will, and then I am stumped what to do.”

Has who asked what?

“I don’t know, Jasp. I understand your difficulty, but I think you are worrying prematurely. He can’t possibly woo her.”

Benjamin’s gut clenched. Who? Who were they talking about?

“He is a duke. He will damn well do as he pleases.”

Relief washed over Benjamin. Then he wondered again. Who?

“He is sixty, if he is a day!”

“I know that, Reg. But the older Lythe gets, the younger his wives. And he—you saw it—the way he maneuvered Olivia into the dark.”

Benjamin clenched his fists. Lythe. The blackguard.

“Yes, but it wasn’t as though he was assaulting her. Georgiana says he is always like that. Full of his own consequence and not caring that he is monopolizing a lady’s company and boring her to tears. She was trapped listening to him at several parties her first Season, but he was not…inappropriate.”

“His wife was alive then,” Jasper said in a flat tone.

Benjamin knew he should not be listening at the door. Nor should he make his confession now. This was not the time to weigh Jasper down more. But he waited. What would Jasper do?

He heard the slap of a hand against a desk.

“I cannot tell him he is not permitted to call upon Olivia. I would like to, but I cannot afford to offend him and alienate his fellows. They will make it difficult for me to have any say in Parliament. And worse, they will enlist their wives to reject Vanessa, something they are all no doubt eager to do.”

“So, then, let him call on Olivia.” Reg’s reasonable tone struck Benjamin as far too mild. “He will be one of many. He may think she will jump at the opportunity to be a duchess, but he doesn’t know Olivia.”

“I hate to subject her to him.”

“She is stronger than you credit, Jasper.”

Benjamin turned on his heel and strode away. Furious. God how he hated the ton. Their posturing and superiority and hypocrisy. Jasper once said if Olivia needed protection, he would provide it. Apparently, he would protect her from a powerless groom at the stables, but not from a powerful duke.

*

He retreated only as far as the guest wing. A tangle of angry thoughts whirled in his brain until he stopped, leaned against the wall, and tried to sort them. His life was one wrong decision after another. He should not be here in London. That, he could solve.

There had been little enough work he could do in the lead-up to Olivia’s ball. They couldn’t have laborers tearing the place apart. But he did hire carpenters to fix the steps in the back stairway that were splitting and endangering the maids. And he’d located a mason who could investigate the damp area in the wine cellar. Finley had pointed out a few cracked windows. And the pantry shelves should be shored up or rebuilt. All Benjamin had to do was get estimates for the repairs and hire the workers. Peters could oversee them.

He breathed a little easier. Olivia could handle an elderly duke. And she would not want Jasper alienating anyone or to cause trouble for Vanessa. She would be able to gently refuse an unwanted offer. She would be refusing a number of them, he warranted.

And if Hazard’s cousin was trouble, Hazard would keep the man away from her.

He pulled himself upright and continued the trek to his rooms. Not room. Rooms. When he was young and came to visit, he’d stayed in this same wing, but in a small guest chamber that had seemed to him luxurious. He had not known what luxury was. Now he had a large bedchamber with a goose-feather mattress, curtains around the bed, a thick carpet, velvet brocade drapes, a wardrobe, a washstand, a writing desk—and that was just the bedchamber. He also had a dressing room, a sitting room, and a water closet. Three doors down, a second suite of rooms comprised a sitting room and two adjoining bedrooms, as well as a nursery.

He hadn’t planned to stay in London for more than a few weeks. Just long enough to see to repairs. So, naturally, he hadn’t looked for lodgings to lease. He’d done what was easiest. Another wrong choice.