Lady Farquhar's Butterfly by Beverley Eikli Read Free Book Online

herself
into his arms and beg him to kiss her again?
    She gave a
half smile and nodded, expecting to receive one of his open, easy
smiles. It was a cruel burden to know that she would soon
disappoint him.
    Instead of the
boyish laugh she’d expected, his expression was grave.
    ‘Good.’ He
took a deep breath. His eyes glowed and, as she waited for his next
words, she felt the warmth of his admiration, ignoring the
knowledge, buried for now, that happiness was, as ever, out of
reach. For how could she not want to hear the words that conveyed
how she had altered his world in just a few short hours when it
merely echoed what was in her own heart?
    ‘I believe
you’ve bewitched me, Olivia.’
    She was
silent. She had no response. Tying the ribbons beneath her chin
more securely, touching the key that hung round her neck – Lucien’s
key; the key which had driven him mad in its failure to yield him
what he wanted – she continued towards the house.
    ‘Olivia?’ His
voice was full of concern. He put his hand on her arm to detain
her. ‘What is it, Olivia? What have I said?’
    ‘It’s nothing,
a megrim,’ she managed faintly, pushing on. Not the truth. That
what he had said were the very words Lucien had used to accuse and
condemn her?
    Of course he
would not have let her go and she would have been lying if she’d
pretended she wanted him to.
    ‘I’ve
frightened you,’ he said, coming to stand before her, not touching
her. ‘I’ve rushed headlong, following my heart, thinking only of
myself, without even the delicacy to enquire after your
bereavement, the true state of your feelings.’
    ‘You’ve done
nothing I haven’t welcomed,’ Olivia soothed, reaching up to touch
his cheek. ‘I lost my husband a little over a year ago and it was a
blessed relief.’ She wondered if he’d recoil; it would be easier if
he did.
    Yet she could
not deny she welcomed his touch when he gripped her arms tightly,
his expression full of sympathetic understanding as she added, ‘He
was a cruel man and I was not sorry when fever took him.’ She
nestled her head against his chest when he drew her against him.
She would stay there forever, if he’d let her.
    When he raised
her head with a gentle finger beneath her chin, they were facing
the great house in the distance.
    ‘I wish I
could offer you all this.’ His sweeping gesture took in the
sun-kissed landscape, the handsome grey stone house with its
battlements harking back to a much earlier age, its later additions
making it a home rather than a fortress. ‘But it is better to be
frank. I only hold it in trust for my ward. When Julian is of age I
shall return to my own estate.’ He added, softly, ‘I’m afraid my
own home is a good deal more humble. Nevertheless, it is not the
bricks and mortar that gladdens the heart but rather what dwells
within.’
    Resting his
chin lightly on the top of Olivia’s head as he held her to him he
did not see the spasm of realization that shocked her to her very
foundations. Did not register the strain in her voice as she ground
out, ‘I hope you do not resent the efforts you will expend on the
boy’s behalf, only to be turned out when he turns twenty one. I
must tell you’ – it was hard to say the words, looking upon all
this that was once her husband’s and that she might have held,
herself, in trust for her son had Lucien not changed his will – ‘I
come with nothing, Mr Atherton.’
    ‘What a fine
match,’ he said, swinging her back into the circle of his arm, his
easy smile banishing his former sobriety. ‘I was hoping I could not
be accused of fortune-hunting. However, I was trying only to weasel
from you your feelings, not what you had to offer. Promise you’ll
stay?’ He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.
    Her feelings.
She wanted to wither in his arms with longing before she expired
from shame; she wanted to scream at the injustice. Instead, she
tried to swallow past the bitterness as she spoke the truth.