And Louisa?
Well, she was learning to laugh along with it.
“Where is the duchess now?” Selena asked, drawing her from her thoughts.
Louisa smirked. “Oh, she is confined in one of my father’s houses here in London. Not even a rat can enter or leave that residence without him knowing.” Oliver had also stationed guards outside the garden, the streets, and everywhere else he could manage. Why, she imagined there was a person of his beneath every lamppost in St. James’s.
Harriet hummed, tapping her chin. “She must be quite livid.”
Livid? Louisa recalled the woman’s string of curses upon regaining consciousness. If there was a single resident who hadn’t heard the full scope of the woman’s wrath, they were surely deaf. But rather than annoyance, each curse, each shattered vase, each cry of indignation, filled Louisa with immense satisfaction.
She needn’t worry about Camilla anymore.
But she missed Oliver.
She missed their time in the country.
Her father had kept a hawk-like eye on her ever since they’d announced their engagement. No, ever since that night when he’d discovered Oliver in her bedchamber. As it was, he still refused to allow her betrothed into his residence.
“Let’s forget about that woman,” Louisa said, dusting off her skirts. “We should head to Bond Street.”
Theodosia gave her a knowing look. “You wish to sneak a visit with a certain duke, don’t you?”
“You’ve caught me.” She did want to see Oliver. Had to see him. It was as if an itch had formed in her heart and it wouldn’tbe soothed until she could leap into his arms. Bond Street had become a term she would use since she returned to London. It was code to meet Oliver, since her father’s ears were still too sensitive to terms likeOliver,Mortimer,Cavanagh,betrothed, and evenduke.
“It’s broad daylight,” Selena said. “You will no doubt be spotted if you call on your betrothed.”
“Is that so wrong?” Louisa asked, half-exasperated.
“No,” Harriet said, clutching her breast. “I think it’s romantic.”
Louisa leaped to her feet. “Then shall we go buy ribbons in Bond Street?”
Theodosia rose, too, chuckling. “Very well, I am also curious about this Mr. Helgate I know nothing about. You mentioned he was there, as well, didn’t you?”
“He should be,” she said thoughtfully. “Though I cannot know if he will be there right this moment.”
“Nevertheless, I cannot let you let you go alone. What if I miss out on more theatrics?” Theodosia looked at the others. “What about you two?’
Harriet shook her head. “I shall return home. Leeds and I are meeting Leonora and Dare for dinner tonight, Ophelia and Avondale might also join us, and I still have some things to prepare.”
“I shall skip as well,” Selena said, rising along with Harriet. “I suddenly have an urge to feed Warrick and my brother some cake. Can I perhaps have two slices to take with me?”
Theodosia laughed, and Louisa nodded with a grin. “Take it all.”
The day had started out sweet, turned a bit salty, and it would soon turn sweet again. Life was good.
*
In another drawing room not so far away
Oliver pulled aface.
The cake on his plate looked innocent enough—fluffy, golden brown, with a light dusting of powdered sugar on top. A vision of perfection. His angel’s perfection.
And a deception of the highest order. Because the moment it touched his tongue, his taste buds staged a violent rebellion.
It was as if the entire Atlantic had been reduced to powder form and baked into this one unsuspecting slice. His mouth puckered. His throat clenched. His soul briefly left his body.
