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Chapter 10
Jarvissatbythewindow and gloomily looked outside. A storm was brewing, and as a result, the regular outdoor activities were canceled, thus forcing everyone to collect in the drawing rooms. People sat in small groups around the room, but Jarvis didn’t feel like joining any of them.
He sat in the least conspicuous, darkest corner of the room, by the window, and observed the proceedings before him. That way, he was unnoticeable, while he could clearly see everything and everyone.
Ever since the ride to the estate ruins, when Olivia rode beside Bradshaw, she and he had become inseparable. Bradshaw seated her beside him during dinners and paired up with her in any other activity that required couples.
Jarvis was happy that Olivia’s ploy to ensnare the man had worked. Bradshaw was an idiot for not noticing the gem that was Olivia earlier. But as long as he did notice eventually, there was no harm done. Right? And after all, wasn’t it exactly what Jarvis had wanted: Olivia nicely paired up with a suitor, married off, and living happily without any dangers?
There was something about Bradshaw that Jarvis couldn’t shake off, though. Jarvis and Bradshaw had spent many a night gambling, many a day fencing, and many a week discussing issues in the House of Lords and coffeehouses.
He didn’t have much against the man. Bradshaw seemed honest, clever, and respectable. Yet somehow, Jarvis couldn’t help but watch him while he was interacting with Olive. There was something odd in the way he held himself. More than one time, Jarvis noticed Bradshaw’s side glances toward him.
Unless, of course, the side-glances were thrown because of the way Jarvis had been staring at the couple. And perhaps his own dislike of the man was due to him being jealous. Yes, if he had to be honest with himself, he’d have to concede that he’d been violently jealous of Bradshaw’s relationship with his Olive.
Who would have thought that a few dance lessons and a couple of tips from Olivia’s friends and Jarvis himself would land Olive a suitor? Although he couldn’t imagine people not being charmed by her. Her own fear of being rejected and humiliated stood in the way of her making genuine relationships with people. Once she got determined to win Bradshaw over by any means necessary, it turned out to be quite a simple feat.
“This is entirely too boring!” Lady Carlyle, a young and wealthy widow, exclaimed suddenly. She was playing cards with a group of old matrons, who now threw dagger-like gazes her way. She stood and addressed the entire room. “Who is up for a game of blind man’s bluff?”
Jarvis shrunk farther into his corner. The last thing he wanted was to be drawn into a useless game by the impetuous young lady.
Young people in the room immediately lit up and started collecting in one corner.
“Lord St. John, you won’t be an old bore, would you?” Lady Carlyle addressed him from across the room. “Surely you’ll join us?”
“I would have loved to, but—” Jarvis was about to come up with a carefully crafted excuse, something about him having a cold, a need to use the men’s room or anything else that would get him out of the tedious game, but at that moment, his cousin’s wife stood.
“If you play, then I shall also,” Helen said.
“Helen,” Greyson growled, but Jarvis immediately jumped up.
“Of course, my dear cousin. I would love to join you.”
Helen beamed up at him and stretched out her hand. Jarvis walked toward her and offered his arm. Greyson directed his gaze heavenward, but eventually, he also got up and joined the group of young people.
Lady Lavinia, Lord Roth, Olive, and Bradshaw, as well as a throng of other young people, joined the group.
Lady Carlyle unwrapped her shawl. “Who wants to be the first one to go?”
“Oh, I shall!” Helen exclaimed, and disengaged herself from Jarvis’s arm.
“Helen!” Greyson fairly growled.
Jarvis put his hand on his arm. “Let her be.”
“When will you stop interfering?”
“When will you start letting your wife have some fun in this life?”
“That is none of your business.”
“You’re right.” Jarvis nodded. “But please, do not embarrass her in front of all these people. It’s a harmless game. And stay out of her reach.”
By this time, Helen’s eyes were covered with Lady Carlyle’s shawl, and she was spun around.
“I shall count to three,” Lady Carlyle exclaimed. “And then you can start approaching everyone. Everyone, be certain to make enough noise to lead Mrs. St. John toward you. But be vigilant, so she doesn’t catch you. And one, two, three!”
People dispersed around the room as Helen groped her way forward, a huge smile on her face. Most of the elderly guests paused in their games of cards and conversation, observing as the young people scattered around Helen, calling for her to turn to them.
