Led Astray by a Rake Read Online Free Page A

be would meet her at the appointed place at the appointed time. Unless he had changed a great deal in the past three years, he wouldn’t be able to resist the word “urgent.”
    Olivia set down her coffee cup, just as her mother entered the room, and the smile of anticipation she’d been unable to repress turned into a smile of welcome.
    “My dear, there you are.”
    “I’m sorry, Mama, did you need me for something?” Olivia pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. She was taller and more slender than her mother, and her smooth face did not have the markings of grief that were deeply etched upon her mother’s.
    “No, nothing in particular. I just wondered where you were. I like to see you and know you are safe, Olivia. It gives me comfort.”
    It was the same old story. Ever since her sister had died her parents seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety and fear that something equally tragic would happen to Olivia. Her mother in particular clung to her, worried about her—it had been a battle to remain at Miss Debenham’s for the whole year—and now she wanted Olivia to marry Mr. Garsed and live in the same village forever and ever. Although Olivia understood her parents’ pain and loved them, she found such constant watchfulness and attention suffocating.
    Life, she thought, couldn’t be lived properly if one was constantly afraid of making a wrong move or believing something bad was about to happen. Olivia didn’t want to be always frightened and she didn’t want her parents to be always frightened for her. It didn’t seem fair that her sister’s death should result in her own demise. They did their best, but their insistence on taking the safe route was choking the life out of her, and Sarah wouldn’t have wanted that. It was Sarah who had taught Olivia that life was for living and that one should never take second best. Olivia’s family wanted her to marry Mr. Garsed, but in Olivia’s eyes Mr. Garsed was very much second best.
    Her mother was watching her, the familiar crease between her brows, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Olivia, have you thought about Mr. Garsed—”
    But Olivia didn’t let her finish.
    “Shall we look at the cloth I had sent up from London?” she asked brightly. “I thought you might like a new dress, Mama. And the color would suit you.”
    “If you are certain, my dear,” her mother said with a forced smile, “though I rarely go anywhere where there is a need to wear pretty things. It still does not seem quite right.”
    To Olivia’s relief her mother had begun to wear bright colors again at last, after being in mourning and half-mourning for far too long. Sarah would have been horrified that she was the cause of suchdrabness. Sarah had reminded Olivia of a butterfly, a joyful creature who flitted in and out of their lives all too briefly. She’d loved to paint, the brighter the colors the better, and she’d believed that the wearing of black as a sign of bereavement was an abomination.
    Now Olivia scolded her mother gently. “Why shouldn’t you wear pretty things? I’m sure Sarah would be the first to tell you you should. We will look at patterns and you can decide on the style you prefer.”
    Estelle, Olivia’s and her mother’s maid, was standing at the top of the stairs as they ascended to the sewing room.
    “We are going to look at patterns this morning,” Olivia said, with a conspiratorial glance. Estelle had always been sympathetic to her attempts to ease her mother’s grief.
    “I’m glad to hear it, miss,” Estelle replied. “It is well past time the mistress had a new dress.”
    As her mother continued to make her way up the stairs, Estelle touched Olivia’s arm to hold her back. Olivia gave her a questioning look.
    “Is something the matter, Estelle?”
    The maid’s pretty, plump face was unusually serious, her hazel eyes lacking their sparkle. “I am a friend of Abbot, Lord Lacey’s manservant, miss.”
    “Oh?” Olivia