“You’re very wrong.”
“Oh, am I!” Lady Lacey spoke angrily. “Well, then, speak up, girl. Tell me why I am wrong about my own son.”
“Olivia,” Nic murmured, “don’t.”
“It’s not true,” Olivia said boldly. “Nic isn’t like that. You may be his mother but you don’t know him at all.”
Lady Lacey peered more closely at the dark formless shape of Olivia in her cloak, with her face hidden inside the shadows of the hood. In response Olivia tried to make herself smaller.
“Who are you? Answer me, girl! I will not be ignored.”
For a brief moment Olivia considered playing at being one of the women she’d met at the demimonde ball, but it seemed a poor trick to play on Nic’s mother, no matter how wrong she was about her son.
“I am no one important. A friend. Someone who has known Lord Lacey all her life and who trusts him. I know he would never hurt me.”
Nic groaned softly in despair.
Lady Lacey was silent. Olivia had expected her to be furious. No one liked to be told she was wrong, and Her Ladyship seemed like the sort of woman who was used to being deferred to rather than challenged. But when Olivia dared to lift her head and glance up at the other woman, she saw that Lady Lacey wasn’t angry after all, but pensive and sad. Lady Lacey’s haughty face was old an
d wan and tired, and for the first time Olivia found herself pitying her.
“My son lives his own life. He does what he does, and although I don’t approve of it, I don’t try to stop him. I decided a long time ago that my son must go to hell in his own way.”
“Very wise of you, Mother,” Nic said dryly. “Never allow yourself to have unrealistic expectations about me, then you can never again feel disappointed.”
There was a silence. Olivia tried to pull away from Lady Lacey’s grip, but the older woman only tightened it further. It was a mistake because it drew her attention back. “Who are you, girl?” she demanded yet again. “I know your voice.”
“I told you, my lady. I am no one.”
“Then take off your hood and show me what ‘no one’ looks like.”
Olivia looked at Nic, caught in a trap. They really had no choice, and he gave a nod, looking resigned. She reached up and slowly slid back her hood, letting it fall about her shoulders. Her hair was pale gold in the moonlight, and as Lady Lacey stood, peering into Olivia’s face, there was no doubting the appalled recognition gathering in her eyes.
“Miss Monteith!” She gaped. “It is Miss Monteith from the village, isn’t it? Oh dear Lord, another one.”
“Lady Lacey, please, I must go,” Olivia said breathlessly, her fingers beginning to ache. “I really must go. Please.”
But Lady Lacey had no intention of letting her go. She was so distraught she didn’t even appear to realize she was still holding her. “Miss Monteith, have you no care for your reputation? Are you so lacking in good sense that you would risk everything? I can hardly believe what I am seeing.”
“Lady Lacey—”
“How could you?” She was glaring at Nic. Her voice dropped, and there was a tremor in it, as if she could no longer contain her emotions. “Have you forgotten what you did last time? Have you forgotten your promise? Despite myself I believed you when you said you would never harm an innocent girl again. I believed Abbot when he said you only indulged yourself with trollops and trulls. And yet here…here is Miss Monteith, as large as life…” She put a hand to her chest, as if she was finding it difficult to breathe.
“Mother.” Nic moved as if to touch her, but she stumbled back, away from his hand.
“I cannot let this pass,” she whispered. “This time I cannot look the other way. There will be a price to pay, Dominic.”
And with that she turned and half ran across the terrace toward the house, her skirts rustling furiously. A door slammed, and afterward the silence seemed twice as loud.
Olivia was shaking. She wrapped her arms about herself, tucking her hands inside the cloak. “What will she do?”
Nic’s face was bleak. “I don’t know.”
“Should I speak to her?” Olivia offered. “Perhaps I can make her understand.”
“I doubt that.” He put his hand on her waist, urging her toward the terrace steps. “Come. The coach is waiting. When you are home, tell your family you had a fine time at your friend’s birthday. Say nothing of this, Olivia.”
“Of course not.”