Page 76 of House of Thorns
“Come, Olivia,” Deborah hurried toward her, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ve a gift for you.” She turned to the men in the room. “We shall return in but a few minutes.”
“Allow me, first, to offer my congratulations,” Nicholas stepped forward to catch Deborah’s hand.
“I can never thank you enough, Lord Blair,” Deborah whispered as he politely kissed her hand. “Frankly, I owe you my life.”
Olivia turned to him in wonder. So, he’d solved Deborah’s problem, as well?
Then, Deborah pulled her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to her bedroom.
“I can’t believe it, Olivia,” her cousin said, her eyes shining as she shut the door and leaned against it. “Lord Deveraux has returned. He still loves me.”
“I…I’m so happy for you,” Olivia whispered. As if possessed by some devil, her eyes dropped to Deborah’s expanding waist before she caught herself and quickly yanked them away.
“We’re to be wed next week,” Deborah gushed, closing her eyes. “Then, we’ll be off to the continent for a year.”
A year. That was good. Enough time to have the child.
Deborah dropped her hand on her belly and gave it a pat. “We’ll say we adopted the child from his cousin, an untimely death of some kind. It’s better for all, that way. After all, he can scarcely turn his estate over to…well, a child that is not of his blood. Still, he promised to love the child, as a child of mine.”
Olivia nodded. Of all outcomes, this was the best she could hope for.
With a sigh, Deborah glided across the room to her bed and picked up a large box there, tied with green ribbon.
“This is for you.” Deborah smiled.
“Me?”
Surprised, Olivia joined her at the bed and untied the ribbon to pull back the brown paper and lift the lid. A dress lay there, a creation of gold silk. With a gasp, she held it up.
“It’s for your concert,” Deborah laughed shyly. “I had my dressmaker fashion it, of course, but I stitched the bodice myself.”
Olivia ran her fingers over the finely stitched roses adorning the collar and trailing to the waist. Never had she owned so fine a thing. Her cousin’s exquisite work brought tears to her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “How can I thank you?”
“There’s nothing to thank,” Deborah smiled, misty-eyed. “I am grateful, for all of your help.”
Olivia winced. “I’ve caused you more pain than help, I fear.”
“Well, no more trouble than I caused myself,” her cousin confessed with a nervous laugh.
They both laughed, a desperate kind of laughter.
Then, the chiming of the downstairs clock announced the nine o’ clock hour.
As one, they tensed and exchanged worried looks.
The hour of the blackmailer.
Grimly, Olivia returned the dress to the box and replaced the lid. “Don’t fret, Deborah. Nicholas will handle the matter.”
Deborah nodded. “You trust him so.”
Trust him. Olivia smiled. She did—and more. Unbidden, a memory of his mouth on her breast summoned heat to her cheeks.
Deborah tilted her head speculatively. “So, it’s that way between the two of you?”
Feeling suddenly shy, Olivia nodded. Once.
Deborah smiled. “I’m happy for you, Olivia.”
