The Christmas Secret Read Free Page A

smiled warmly as they entered, inclining his head in greeting. “Lady Carey. Miss Hastings. How do you do?”
    “Ah . . .” Olivia tried to think of an appropriate response. They did not fare well at all.
    “Yes? What is it?” her husband asked curtly without lifting his head from the papers on his desk.
    Olivia gave Mr. Tolly a brief smile of appreciation, then shifted her gaze to her husband. “Miranda . . . and I . . . have something we must tell you,” she said. “May we have a moment?”
    “Go on,” he said impatiently, “and be quick about it. As you can see, we are presently engaged.”
    Olivia’s gaze flew to Mr. Tolly, whose smile made his gray eyes seem to dance. He bowed as he started to make his leave.
    “Where are you off to, Tolly?” his lordship said. “You may stay.”
    “Edward . . . it is personal,” Olivia said quickly. For Miranda’s sake, she did not want Mr. Tolly to be present.
    “Mr. Tolly has heard more personal and private details about this family than even I. He will stay.” Edward lifted his head and looked at Olivia. “What is it?”
    Mr. Tolly, she noticed, slowly stepped back, his expression suddenly stoic.
    For her own sake, Olivia was thankful Mr. Tolly remained. Given today’s occasion, she expected to be sliced to ribbons and was selfishly comforted by his presence. Mr. Tolly had an equable influence on Edward. He had an equable influence on everyone, really. Olivia presumed he was only slightly younger than her husband, but much fitter, the latter having grown soft in the last few years. Mr. Tolly was a bit taller as well, and where Edward was golden-haired, Mr. Tolly had brown hair the color of mahogany, and eyes the color of a mourning dove. Edward’s eyes were so brown they almost looked black. Two black, bottomless holes.
    But most strikingly, Mr. Tolly was also the one person Olivia knew of who could reason with Edward. Where others were quickly dismissed, Edward valued Mr. Tolly’s opinion and always had. And once, on a particularly awful day, Edward had lifted his hand to strike Olivia for some perceived slight, but Mr. Tolly had caught his arm.
    Edward had threatened him. “You think to lay a hand on me?” he’d bellowed. “I will have your position!”
    His position was a lucrative one, that much Olivia knew. Yet Mr. Tolly had calmly returned Edward’s gaze, as if the exertion of stopping the man from striking his wife required no strength at all. “Then have it. If you believe that my position here is more important to me than my code of conduct, you are mistaken. I will not stand by and allow a man, any man, to strike a woman.” Olivia had winced for Mr. Tolly. She’d expected his instant dismissal, even a brawl. But amazingly, Edward had gathered himself. He’d seemed to take note. And he’d never tried to strike Olivia again.
    No, he preferred to strike her with words.
    It was true that Edward had not always been so cruel to her. Indifferent, perhaps, but not particularly cruel in the beginning. Yet as the years had slipped by, and Olivia had not conceived a child, Edward’s patience, and his regard for her, had dwindled to nothing. The cruelty had begun three years ago, when Olivia had believed herself, at long last, to be pregnant. Edward had been happy, so very happy. He’d pampered her, showered her with gifts . . . but after two months, her courses had begun to flow again, and Edward’s cruelty had flowed right along with it.
    “Why do you keep me waiting?” Edward asked curtly. “I asked you to speak.”
    Miranda shuddered; Olivia put her arm around her sister’s shoulder and began the little speech she’d privately rehearsed: Miranda had gone to Spain. Miranda had behaved poorly, for which she was terribly sorry. And Olivia ended it with the damning words, “Miranda is with child.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Tolly flinch, and she wondered if it was revulsion at what Miranda had done, or recognition