Page 34 of Never Dare to Masquerade with a Maiden

Falling onto her stomach upon her bed, face pressed to her pillow, Olivia let the tears that she’d held back fall. Ian, like her mama, had left her. She was all alone now.

Chapter Twelve

Lady Charlotte’s gaze had remained on Warren from the very moment he set foot into the morning room where she and her husband were breaking their fast. Seated opposite Lord Camden, he picked up his knife and fork and poked at the food on his plate. How much longer until Olivia joins us?

“I trust you shall be attending the next session at the House of Lords?” Lord Camden patted the corner of his mouth before placing his napkin next to his plate.

“I am. Are you?” His host was more often than not out of the country and regularly sent in his votes by proxy. Warren only knew this as the earl’s seat was next to his and had remained unoccupied and dusty since he had become the Viscount of Guernsey.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Lord Camden flickered a glance over at his wife, who was still staring at Warren.

Giving up on his breakfast, Warren leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers together. The palpable tension in the room increased as he trained his gaze on Lord Camden and continued to ignore Lady Charlotte. He shifted slightly forward so his elbows rested upon the arms of his chair. Did my valet tie my cravat a tad too tight?

Uncomfortable, he moved a hair to the right. Lord Camden’s steady gaze had him itching to tug at his collar. Rather than give away his discomfort, Warren began to drum his fingertips, waiting, hoping one of his hosts would break the stifling silence. Again, his patience was tested, and again, he caved. “Will Olivia be joining us this morn?”

As if he had summoned her, Olivia entered the room and curtsied. “You wished to see me, Lady Charlotte?”

Lady Charlotte waved to the seat next to her. “Come and have some eggs and toast.”

Head bent, Olivia did as she was told. He noted the dark circles beneath Olivia’s eyes when she glanced over at the sideboard before she bowed her head once more. Something is amiss. Warren scanned the room. Ian was missing. Why had he not noticed earlier? As a guest, he had no business inquiring after the earl’s staff, yet the question remained on the tip of his tongue.

Lord Camden waved for the footman, who approached immediately. “Fill Olivia’s plate with her preferences.”

In unison, both Olivia and Lady Charlotte looked from the earl to the footman and then back to Lord Camden. If it had been under any other circumstance, Warren might have let out a bark of laughter, but the poor footman’s dire expression was far from humorous. Without hesitation, Warren stood, the wooden legs of his chair scraping the polished floors and drawing everyone's attention. “I’ll do it.”

Olivia’s mouth parted but Lady Charlotte’s voice echoed through the room first. “How very kind of you, Lord Guernsey.”

He wasn’t tone deaf by any means, and the woman’s words were soaked with sarcasm. Warren reached for an empty plate from the sideboard and replied, “My pleasure.”

The luxurious fare set out before him suddenly became a conundrum. Did she like her eggs scrambled, poached, or fried? He reached for the ladle next to the fluffy eggs, then changed his mind. Olivia was the practical sort, matching the simple fried ones instead. He traded the ladle for a silver fish slice, scooping up a serving before moving on to the selection of meats. Having never shared a meal with her, he might not know Olivia’s preferences for certain like Ian would, but he knew enough about the woman to place educated guesses. Hoping for the best, he placed a wedge of ham followed by a slice of bread toasted golden brown upon the plate. Even if he’d chosen wrong, what harm was there for her to try something different? After all, she claimed she trusted him.

Olivia glanced up at him and smiled as he placed the plate laden with food in front of her. “Many thanks, my lord.”

With a bounce in his step, he returned to his seat and waited to see if his choices were met with joy or disappointment. Her lips were curved into a small smile as she took a bite of toast. Pleased with himself, Warren picked up his own fork and resumed eating. He didn’t want her to eat alone, knowing full well how ill at ease it made him feel having to dine without another at the table.

Are the scrambled eggs as bland as my poached ones? A quick glance over at Olivia’s plate proved worrying. She’d barely touched her food. Here he was focused on eggs, but to hell with the eggs. He should be tending to the woman he intended to woo. He shot a pleading look over at Lord Camden, which was met with a simple shrug. Damn the earl; he was of no help. If he thought the next few days of courtship were going to be easy, without Ian looming in the shadows, it had been but a brief and fleeting thought at that. His fingers tightened about the knife hovering over his plate. Moisture continued to well in Olivia’s eyes. Left with no other choice, Warren set down his fork and knife and turned to seek the help of Lady Charlotte.

“I’ve made arrangements to visit Madame Lennox today,” the countess declared as if nothing was amiss.

Lord Camden, in fine form, simply replied, “Hmm.” At least he had acknowledged his wife, which was more than what his own father would have done. A moment later, the earl picked up his cup and raised it to his lips. Before he took a sip, he said, “Shall I join you?”

Olivia’s head popped up, and this time, Warren was the one who received a look filled with a plea for assistance.

Unable to deny her, Warren chimed in, “No need, Camden. I shall escort the ladies today.”

“Grand.” His host took a long swig of tea and then stood and tugged on the hem of his waistcoat. “I’ll leave them in your care, Guernsey. Make sure they return safely, and my pocketbook is not entirely emptied.” He gave Lady Charlotte a wink and left the room.

Alone with the two women, Warren was doubting his abilities when Anne and his mama waltzed into the room and seated themselves on either side of him.

He jumped to his feet and his mama swatted at his arm. “Sit down. No need for formalities amongst family.”

Family? Olivia’s head turned toward him, and their eyes locked. Clearly just as surprised as he, Olivia’s lips parted and once again Lady Charlotte spoke before either of them could, “Anne, would you mind passing along the salt?”

Anne reached out for the salt, but Olivia snatched it from the table first and asked, “What in the devil is going on?”

Rather than disapproving frowns from the women, they each met Olivia’s outburst with smiles. It was his mama who answered, “Whatever do you mean, my dear?”

“Ahh. Now I know where your son gained the habit of answering a question with a question.” Eyes no longer flooded with tears, Olivia turned to her right. “Lady Charlotte, I’ve played along with this charade long enough. I’d like to resume my responsibilities in the kitchens, since you are not serious about me being your maid.”