‘You stupid young pup,’ Hugo growled. ‘Stay away from that pair and from Marie Shelton. They’ll fleece you for all—’
‘What is it to you?’ Alex’s eyes blazed as he thrust his face close to Hugo’s. ‘It’s none of your concern what I do and who I do it with. I can take care of myself. C’mon, Nev.’
He pivoted on his heel and stalked away through the crowd. Neville, with an apologetic shrug, followed. Hugo heaved a sigh.
‘That,’ he said, ‘is an unhappy young man.’
Freddie’s brows rose and he gave a rueful smile. ‘He is. He is...difficult, far too ready to fly up in the boughs. Even his father struggles to get through to him at times. He heeds his aunt, Lady Cecily, and sometimes his uncle, but seems to harbour some deep-rooted hostility towards the Duke. The trouble is... I was asked to keep an eye on him while the Duke and my sister are away, but I simply cannot go to all the places he can.
‘That is why I feel I must tell the Duke about tonight, despite what Olivia wants. Someone must keep watch over Alex.’
‘What about Avon? Surely he is better placed than you.’
Freddie huffed a laugh. ‘They’re brothers. They get on well enough, but if Dominic tries to tell Alex what to do, Alex is just as likely to do the opposite. He can be like it with his father, too, only not so overtly—he has no choice but to accept his authority most of the time, especially now with the carrot of Foxbourne dangling in front of him.’
‘I’ll help you to keep an eye out for him,’ Hugo said, before he could censor his words.
‘You?’ Freddie eyed him with suspicion. ‘Why would you want to do that?’
Why indeed?
Hugo had made it his business in life never to put himself out for anyone and yet here he was...
‘He reminds me of myself at his age.’ That much was true, at least. ‘And it offends me that a man such as Tadlow would use a young man to punish his father. I should like to at least protect him from that. Only until his father returns, of course.’
‘In that case, I shall accept your offer with pleasure. The Duke should be back by midweek so it will be a weight off my mind if you can help me watch over him until then. Thank you. You will alert me if there is anything you feel I should know?’
‘Of course.’
Freddie bowed and then limped away, leaving Hugo to return to Clevedon’s birthday celebrations, which were still in full swing, but without the guest of honour. Nobody could tell Hugo where Clevedon had gone, or how long ago he had left, leaving Hugo with no choice but to resolve to speak to him the next day.
Tadlow and Marie were both there and Hugo joined their conversation. They already trusted him and he hoped to discover their plans for Alex, but Tadlow was too foxed to make much sense and, when his head sank to the table and his eyes closed, Hugo admitted defeat. He would have to try again when the man was sober. He tried to recapture the party spirit, but within half an hour he was stifling yawns and casting a jaded eye over the rest of the company as he wondered idly what the devil he was doing still there. His wandering gaze paused on Marie as her full lips stretched in a come-hither smile, one brow arching in invitation and her blue eyes aglow with promise. Hugo, however, felt not the smallest urge to respond. Instead, a pair of wide, black-fringed silver eyes materialised in his mind’s eye.
This time it was a curse he stifled. He drained his glass and stood up. Marie reached out, slipped her hand beneath his coat, and curved her hand around his buttock, squeezing, but Hugo sidestepped, out of her reach. Unsettled, and with a quiet anger humming through him, he could not wait to get away. He was in no mood for more of these people. They could go to hell as far as he was concerned.
‘Goodnight,’ he said abruptly and walked away.
Olivia awoke the next morning with a woozy head and a vile taste in her mouth. She grimaced and cranked open her eyes. The maid had been in to open her curtains—she must have slept right through that—and the bright sunlight stabbed at her eyes. She screwed them tight and groaned. Then, as memories of the previous evening filtered into her consciousness, a feeling of sick dread settled in her stomach.
Mama’s necklace.
She rolled on to her side and curled into a ball, her head in her hands, fingers rubbing her temples as she tried to think of a solution.
All she could think was: Thank goodness Papa is away.
But would Freddie notice the necklace was missing?
She shot up into a sitting position, ignoring the nauseous roil of her stomach, and forced her eyes open. There, on her dressing table, were the bracelet and eardrops. She hadn’t even had the sense to put them in a drawer last night when she took them off. Had the maid noticed them? If she had, hopefully she would not realise their significance.
Olivia swung her legs out of the bed and levered herself to her feet, wincing as pain speared her temple.
How much punch did I drink last night?
And she had Lord Hugo Alastair to thank for that. Lord Hugo Alastair...legendary for his exploits, according to Alex and to the gossip of her friends. There had been much giggling and whispering behind their hands on the few occasions his path had crossed that of the young innocents out in society for the first time. And the most recent on dit—that his older brother, Lucas, was due back in town for the first time in six years—had stirred not only much excitement among some of their older sisters, but also the retelling of the most lurid tales of the infamous Alastair brothers—tales intended to act as a dire warning to beware of Lord Hugo and his ilk, but that instead merely intrigued.
No woman was safe, they had been told.
Hmmph. No woman is safe...except me.
She had been ready to fight him off in the hackney, but he had shown no inclination to even flirt with her, let alone kiss her.
I prefer my ladies willing. And experienced.
She supposed he had acted the gentleman, but it still rankled. She had become accustomed to young men courting her and paying her compliments, not ignoring the charms that others praised. He had scolded her and treated her like his sister. All her life she had striven to prove she was good enough for her brothers, only to be dismissed, time and time again, as a mere female and, even worse, a child. But Alex was only two years older than her, and Dominic three—that wasn’t so big a difference. Not like Papa and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Cecily, who was a full ten years younger than Papa.
Olivia went to the dressing table and scooped up the jewellery, a sharp memory of her mother rising from the past as she stared down at the rubies and diamonds.
Mama...seated at her dressing table as her maid clasped the necklace around her neck. The rubies had looked like drops of blood and the diamonds like chips of ice as they sparkled in the candlelight.
It was Olivia’s last clear memory of her mother—being pushed impatiently aside as she tried to touch the jewels...her mother snapping, ‘Oh, do get the child away from me. She will crease my dress...’ The maid scurrying to the door and calling for Nurse...being bundled from the room in tears at yet another rejection from her mama.
No matter how hard Olivia had tried to be the perfect daughter, Mama had been...uninterested. That was the word. She had been proud of her boys, as she had called them—although Olivia couldn’t recall her spending much time with her sons—but the only love and approval Olivia could