She pulled out an envelope from her reticule. “In that case, you shall need to look this over.”
“Another of your letters?” He made no move to take it from her but looked at the paper with skepticism.
“No. This is the actual contract for our bargain. You shall have to amend it to include your terms, but otherwise it is fairly straightforward.” Livie walked over to his desk and placed the envelope down on the mahogany surface. Distance from him was what she needed at the moment.
“You brought the contract with you?” He raised a brow. “That was a bit optimistic of you, was it not?”
“You’ve already complimented me on that very trait, Mr. Colver.” Livie smiled, knowing full well it hadn’t been intended as such. “Now, I shall return as soon as I have my godmother’s agreement, which I expect to be by the end of the week, if not sooner. Do have your pen at the ready to sign the contract, for you shall be needing it very shortly.” With an incline of her head, she nodded to him before turning to the door.
“Lady Olivia?”
His deep voice stopped her in her tracks and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Yes, Mr. Colver?”
“You’re playing with fire making a deal with me.” His eyes were pinning her own, his words unrepentant with a deep promise. “You do understand that, don’t you?”
“I’m about to brave the Dragon’s den for you, Mr. Colver.” Not that her Aunt Demelza was a dragon to Livie, at least not most of the time, but he didn’t need to know that. “And considering I also intend to burn the reputation of many bachelors to the ground, I believe fire is exactly what I’m after.”
And with that she turned on her heel and walked from the room, her cane a constant companion as she made haste through the door, keeping her head high while hoping against hope she was prepared for what she was getting involved in.
For she feared the sort of fire Sebastian Colver could create might just burn all in his path. Livie most of all.
Chapter Five
The chimes from the wall clock struck with precision; two exact bells to signal the hour of the afternoon that Livie’s godmother would deign to begin to allow others to pay calls upon her.
And, as expected, as she did precisely at two o’clock every day, Aunt Demelza appeared at the top of the staircase, the rich emerald velvet of her day dress perfectly complementing the green of her eyes and the accompanying jewels adorning her decolletage and inlaid along the handle of the cane she held in her right hand.
Demelza glided down the stairs, her cane moving swiftly next to her, in perfect timing with her gait. Though her aunt did occasionally use the device to assist her to walk, she used it far more as a weapon to swat away any who dared to annoy her. Which was rather often.
Livie saw the moment that Demelza’s gaze swept down the stairs and landed on her, and though she didn’t miss a step, Livie saw the speculation in the woman’s expression. Probably because Livie had only just visited the other day, so to be visiting again clearly meant there was news. And her aunt loved nothing more than news.
Stepping from the last step onto the marble tiles, Demelza raised a perfectly manicured black eyebrow, the lines on her forehead crinkling ever so slightly as the piercing green of her eyes honed in on Livie’s with the precision of a general.
“My dear girl, what an unexpected pleasure to see you again so soon, though I note you have still not taken my advice to stop wearing that hideous color.”
There was a note of censure in the older woman’s voice as her eyes wandered down the length of Livie’s black garments. The tone of her voice would terrify most, but Livie had become very used to it over the years, and most particularly in recent weeks as she’d continued to ignore Demelza’s advice on the matter and insisted on wearing black cloths to mourn Alice, even though it was technically only Alice’s immediate family who were required to.
“Good afternoon, Aunt. Lovely to see you again, too. And, yes, as you perfectly well know, I intend to wear black until I find the wretch responsible for Alice’s death.”
“You are an impertinent gal,” Demelza said, her lips pursed and her chin tilted at just such an angle as to appear highly peeved, but Livie could see the twinkle of amusement in the woman’s gaze. After all, there was nothing her honorary aunt loved more than a person disagreeing with her, it was just most were too afraid to dare do so. “You are lucky you are my goddaughter. Otherwise, I should indeed let the Dragon loose.”
Livie laughed. “’Tis lucky then indeed.”
Demelza harrumphed though couldn’t conceal the smile that dragged up the corners of her lips. “Come. We shall talk in the sitting room.” She strode over to Livie, her cane clipping next to her on the marble floor, and then slipped her hand in the crook of Livie’s elbow before leading her across the entrance hall and into the sitting room.
Both of their canes made similar noises as they struck the floor on their journey to the sitting room. Not for the first time, Livie was reminded that she walked like that of a sixty-five-year-old.
Is that what Sebastian Colver had seen when she’d walked into his office the other day with her cane clumping along next to her? A woman with the gait of an old lady, hobbling, albeit swiftly, into his office? The thought was especially depressing. He’d probably been horrified by her limp, as most gentlemen were. Though, in retrospect, Colver hadn’t seemed bothered at all by it, not to mention he wasn’t actually a gentleman, either. Perhaps he was different from the other men of her acquaintance.
Of
