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Phillip heard his next question ringing in his mind but took a few moments to consider whether or not he ought to ask it.

“You wonder where my own dear parents are,” Lady Olivia continued, surprising him as she looked up into his face, clearly scrutinizing his expression. “My mother died when I was very young – much

too young for me to remember her – and my father died some seven years ago.” She turned her head away for a moment and Phillip felt his heart twist with sympathy for her distress. “My uncle took the title, the estate and also the responsibility that came with taking me on.” Grey eyes fixed on his, her mouth trembling just a little but with a clear determination in her eyes. “My cousins must marry first, Lord Monteforte. I am to be the very last. That is why I did not accept you. My place in this family is clear, and I do not think I could bear any more strife.”

A slight burst of anger exploded in Phillip’s chest as he watched Lady Olivia turn her gaze back towards her cousins. That did not seem at all fair, and yet it was something that she simply had to accept. He wanted to find a way for her to be able to do as she pleased, perhaps so that she could accept him, but Phillip knew very well that such matters were not at all within his control.

“If there was a willingness to accept my offer of courtship,” he said slowly, seeing how Lady Olivia’s head jerked back to him. “Then might I not speak to Lord Dayton?”

“Oh, no,” Lady Olivia said quickly, her eyes flaring. “No, Lord Monteforte, you must not. My uncle will not take kindly to such a thing, especially when he has clearly some specific intentions for you as regards your association with both himself and his daughters.” She arched one eyebrow, making her meaning quite clear – and Phillip felt his stomach drop.

“You mean to say that Lord Dayton wants me to consider Lady Margaret,” he said plainly, as Lady Olivia gave him a small shrug in response. “Is that what it is? Is that the only reason I have been invited to such a gathering?”

Lady Olivia froze in place, the wry smile dropped from her face in a moment, her eyes rounding as she held his gaze.

“I apologize if anything I have said has upset you,” he stammered, now feeling his own surging embarrassment. “I did not mean–”

“Might I be blunt, Lord Monteforte?” Lady Olivia reached out, one hand on his arm and her eyes still fixed on his.

Nodding, he waited for her to speak.

“What is this ‘gathering’ you speak of?” she asked, sending a sudden chill down Phillip’s spine. “My uncle has invited you to join some of his acquaintances at times, I believe.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, dragging the word out and feeling a sudden sense of worry that Lady Olivia was not all that she seemed. A disenfranchised young lady, with no father or mother of her own and a difficult future that lay in the hands of her strong-willed uncle – might she not be someone worthy of consideration when it came to passing information to the King’s enemies? His immediate instinct was to ignore such a suggestion, to throw such a thought aside, but as he let his gaze travel across her curious face, Phillip knew that he could not easily discard her.

“I do not mean to pry,” Lady Olivia said, although her voice trembled with an eagerness that surprised him, “but I wonder if you might tell me whether or not anything of note takes place in such meetings.”

“I have only been to one,” he reminded her, with a wry smile, trying to ensure he remained just as conversational and as open as before, despite his many doubts. “And I must wonder why you ask, Lady Olivia.” He lifted his eyebrows and looked at her steadily, aware of how she blushed.

“You will think me much too forward, I am sure,” Lady Olivia answered, with a small shake of her head. “I ought not to have asked. It is only that…” Trailing off, she began to search his expression as he had only just done to her. It was as though she were assessing him, trying to work out whether or not he could be trusted.

“What is it, Lady Olivia?” he asked, despite his warring emotions. “You can trust me with whatever it is you wish to share, I assure you.”

Lady Olivia closed her eyes tightly and let out a long breath, screwing up her face. “I am being quite ridiculous,” she muttered, turning away. “My uncle and aunt both seemed very keen to ensure I had not overheard anything that had been said during your meeting, Lord Monteforte, and as such, I have begun to wonder what it was that was so very significant.”

“I see.” Phillip did not know whether he could trust that this was the truth, turning his head back towards the other two ladies and letting his thoughts come thick and fast. In the last few minutes, he felt as though himself and Lady Olivia had shared more and drawn closer, but at the same time, he now found himself afraid that he had said too much or given himself away. What if Lady Olivia was the one he ought to be seeking? What if she was the one to pass on information, perhaps listening at the door when such meetings took place or managing to somehow force the hand of one of the gentleman who attended. This concern over her uncle’s lack of consideration for her, for his supposed fear that she had overheard something she ought not to have done – it might all be a ruse. A ruse that could trap him, if he were not careful.

“I have told you the truth about my uncle, Lord Monteforte,” Lady Olivia murmured, as Lady Margaret and Lady Louisa began to make their farewells. “I must pray that you will not breathe a word of what I have said to him.” Her head lifted and she raised her chin a little higher, a faint trace of fear in her otherwise calm expression. “I have not spoken of my struggles to another living soul, and now that I have done so, I begin to wonder whether I have made the correct decision.”

“You have,” he reassured her, ignoring Lady Margaret and Lady Louisa as they turned back to walk towards both Phillip and Lady Olivia. “I shall say not a word to anyone.”

Lady Olivia nodded slowly, her eyes still intense in their study of him. “I must hope and trust that your word is your bond, Lord Monteforte,” she said, stepping away as Lady Margaret drew near. “For otherwise, my life shall become all the more difficult…and I shall know precisely who to blame.”

Chapter Seven

Ten days later

“Excellent port, I must say!”

Phillip said nothing as Lord Tullett picked up the port and poured himself another glass, smacking his lips together as he did so. This was now Phillip’s fourth meeting with this strange group of gentlemen, who seemed to have no discernable purpose and yet were surrounded by a good deal of secrecy. He was growing rather frustrated that he had nothing at all to report to the League and feared that, soon, he might have to turn his attentions elsewhere.

On top of which, Lady Olivia had barely spoken to him since their conversation in Hyde Park. Lady Margaret and Lady Louisa had not permitted her to do so, and Lady Olivia had done nothing but agree to their requests for her to remain silent or too busy herself with her needlework whilst they conversed and took tea with Phillip. He had not made any sort of overt gesture to either Lady Margaret or Lady Louisa, for the only reason he came to the house was in an attempt to converse a little more with Lady Olivia. To see her was one thing and even to be in the same room with her brought him joy, but it was equally frustrating not to be able to share even a few minutes with her in conversation.

The desire to do so was growing steadily, fed by his frustration, and yet Phillip could do nothing to satisfy it. The thought that she might be someone involved with his enemies had not left him, although it had lost some of its strength. All in all, he told himself glumly, picking up his port, he was doing very badly indeed.

“Matters have come to a head.”

He looked up in surprise, astonished at the forcefulness with which Lord Lincolnshire suddenly spoke.

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