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“There’s worse to come, miss. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
Olivia had a cowardly urge to stick her fingers in her ears, but it was too late now. She must know the whole truth, no matter how painful. “Yes, Estelle. Go on.”
“His father was so angry he dropped down dead. His mother blamed him for his father’s death, and I suppose it was his fault, in a way. She never spoke to him again.”
It explained a great deal. The scandal her parents knew of but wouldn’t share with her, their uncertainty and disappointment when it was clear she’d chosen Nic over Theodore, and Nic’s own warnings to her that he was no good. Yes, it was all far clearer now. But there was still one question that demanded an answer.
“Why didn’t he marry the woman? Surely that should have been the solution to the scandal? And then none of those dreadful things would have happened.”
Estelle shrugged. “I don’t know, my lady. Abbot didn’t say. Perhaps she wouldn’t have him after what he’d done to her, and who could blame her?”
Olivia shook her head resolutely. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”
Estelle’s face grew worried. “You really do love him, don’t you, my lady? I’m sorry that I’ve upset you.”
“I’m not upset,” she insisted. “At least, I’m trying to think rationally. There are many gentlemen who have children born out of wedlock, and I am not so innocent I don’t know that. Why, there was even a girl at Miss Debenham’s Finishing School who boasted about being the love child of an Irish duke.”
Estelle brightened. “Well then, it isn’t so bad after all, miss.”
For all her calm acceptance, Olivia found Estelle’s story difficult to digest. In fact it was making her feel a little sick. But was it so very bad? Nic had been involved with a woman to the extent that they had a child, and he was still caring for the two of them.
It didn’t change what she thought of him. He was at heart a good man. Of course he would care for the woman and child, she wouldn’t expect any less of him. And the tragedy of his father’s death and his mother’s lack of understanding would hurt him terribly. No wonder he spent so little time at Castle Lacey and the rest of his life traveling, with a different companion every year. Once he’d been burned he wouldn’t want to risk his heart again.
Olivia was so deep in thought she hardly heard Estelle speaking.
“When the message came tonight, and Abbot told me, I knew I should have warned you before, when I first found out. I blame myself.”
Olivia tried to focus, to understand. “The message? I presume it came from this woman who is…was Nic’s mistress? Is something wrong, is that why he had to go so abruptly, without time for explanations?”
Estelle clasped her hands together and stared at them, as if working up her courage. “Abbot told me that this woman calls herself Mrs. Lacey.”
Suddenly Olivia felt cold. “Mrs. Lacey?” she gasped.
“Mrs. Lacey. She sent for Lord Lacey tonight and he went to her. You know he did. I don’t understand the hold she has over him, unless it’s the boy, but there’s something odd and I can’t help but think it isn’t going to make you very happy. My lady, I am so sorry I—”
Olivia had stopped listening. Was it possible that Nic was already married? Estelle had wondered why, if this woman was respectable, Nic hadn’t simply married her, and now Olivia found herself wondering, too. Perhaps he had married, then kept it secret. But was it really possible he would do such a dreadful thing, and then marry Olivia and lie to her? No! She didn’t believe it. The “Mrs. Lacey” might well be a courtesy title, in which case this woman and Nic must be close—close enough to be assumed to be married.
Tonight she had told Nic she loved him, and he said he loved her. She had believed him, utterly and completely. What had happened since then that she was here alone, doubting him, and he was with another woman? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.
“I think I will go to bed now,” she said at last, in a small voice that didn’t sound at all like her own.
Estelle seemed relieved. “I think you should sleep, my lady. When Lord Lacey returns he’ll explain everything, and…and…” But her voice trailed off for lack of anything more positive to say, and she hurried back to the bed, fussing about, turning down the covers.
Olivia slid off her wrap and climbed into the bed. She lay back and closed her eyes, and Estelle turned out the lamp and gently closed the door, leaving her alone.
Olivia opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling.
She felt empty, as if her heart had been removed from her chest and her body was just a shell. Nic had betrayed her, he’d lied to her. Olivia had believed in him, trusted him. She’d believed she knew him as well as she knew herself. How could she have been so completely wrong?
The question was: What should she do now?
Outside a vehicle clattered by, hurrying on to its destination. Was Nic already tucked up in bed with his lover, this Mrs. Lacey? Had he completely forgotten the promises he’d made to Olivia? Well, she needed to know, and if Nic wasn’t here to tell her, then she’d find out the truth for herself.
Tomorrow she would go and visit this woman who called herself Mrs. Lacey, and see her for herself. She’d call upon her and ask her exactly what was going on, and then she’d make whatever decision she could about the future.
Whether she would stay or whether she would go.
Nic closed the door to Olivia’s bedchamber, causing the candle in his hand to flicker wildly. He paused while it steadied. He was tired, beyond tired. Unfortunately, as he’d feared, once she got him to the house, he had the devil of a job getting away again. He’d been bearing this burden alone for far too long, and now he wanted nothing more than to share it with Olivia.
