Page 83 of Waiting for Love

Hazard ranted on. “You expect her to be at your beck and call. She has other friends. She has interests of her own.”

“Has she complained of this?” Jasper asked, shocked. At least he did not sound indignant.

“Of course not. She is much too devoted to you all. But I have eyes.”

Jasper’s lips pursed. “You are no better. She spends her time on your political career. She writes your speeches—”

“My dear Iversley, that is one of her interests. I dare say, it is her main interest.”

Jasper clamped his mouth shut.

“I was about to say,” Hazard continued, “that if Olivia would benefit from riding, you should take her. Take her out in the early morning and let her have a good run. She doesn’t need Cassieopia. She would rather have time with her brothers, before you shove her out of the nest.”

“We aren’t shoving her out—”

“We are, Jasp. In a way, we are.” Reg turned up his hands helplessly.

“I will take her out,” Jasper said, scowling. “But if this is how she feels, a few morning rides will not change anything. And there is still Lythe to deal with. I will have to tell him ‘no’ and deal with the consequences.”

“Have your mother do it,” Hazard said.

“Mother?” He sounded startled, confused, as if Hazard were changing the subject rather than offering a solution.

“Your mother has power, Jasper. Let her use it.”

Jasper’s scowl fell away and was replaced by something softer. Gratitude? No. More than that. Benjamin saw layers and layers to their friendship.

Jasper murmured, “Don’t go to Italy, Haz.”

Hazard shrugged. “No, I don’t suppose I will. Leastwise, not until you Taverstons sort yourselves out.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Olivia had a bad case of the blue-devils that she could not manage to shake. She could not talk herself out of them. It scared her. She was unused to melancholy that would not go away. She’d been bored at the theater. Bored at Isabel’s dinner party. Bored at the Hovingtons’ musicale. And bored wasn’t even the right word.

Jasper took her riding. He allowed her to ride Bolt, a thoroughbred almost as fine as Crispin’s Mercury, and even that did not help. They went to an open field in the depths of Green Park in the very early morning so that they could race. And then he spoiled it by letting her win. It was obvious he was doing so because she was trying to let him win so as not to embarrass him. Ridiculous. It was the slowest race imaginable.

She knew she had no cause for her sadness. Flowers kept coming. Suitors paid calls. Over the course of two weeks, she was visited by the marquess of this, viscount that, three earls or earls-to-be, a baron, a handful of sirs and one very wealthy mister—the third son of a duke, not a mere cit. She did her best to entertain them, but they had nothing interesting to say, so how was she to respond?

And there was the duke. Mama had declined Lythe’s offer to take Olivia riding. She was disappointed and thought it strange and a little mean of Mama to refuse. Nevertheless, she was relieved not to have to spend time with Lythe just to ride his horse. She thought that would be the end of it, but then His Grace came at calling time and spent a polite twenty minutes speaking with her in the receiving room about his stables. Lord Carleton was there at the same time, looking annoyed. And, of course, Mama sat quietly on guard.

There were other reasons for her unhappiness. Alice was often elsewhere. Georgiana was often at her parents’ house. Vanessa was busily cutting a swath through the ton—which was a good thing, but it meant she was not home much either. She passed most of her days paying social calls and coming home with orders for boots to be made by her friends in Cartmel. Olivia could not tag along. She was supposed to spend her time being available to be courted.

And Benjamin. Benjamin had informed Jasper that all the necessary repairs were being seen to and he would soon be returning to Chaumbers to see what the tenants required.

He was not going to fight for her. Had she ever thought he might?

This morning, Ebersom was coming to take her for a ride in his carriage. A marquess. Lower than a duke. Higher than an earl.

“The green-and-blue muslin?” Tansy said, moving to the wardrobe.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” When Tansy huffed, Olivia muttered, “Yes, yes. The muslin will do.”

She let Tansy dress her and fix her hair. A maid knocked on the door. “My lady? Your caller is here.”

She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and went down the stairs. On her way to the receiving room, she passed Benjamin in the hall.

“You are going out?” he said.