Lady In Disguise (The Langley Sisters) (5 page)

 

Will threw a stick for Gilbert and watched as he took off after it. At least his Labrador, like his sister and Penny, had forgiven him for leaving.
 

He had woken in his bed this morning and found himself smiling, even the prospect of facing his brother could not dampen his pleasure at being home. Before leaving he had felt only unrest at Rossetter, yet now it represented the roots he had missed so much in his travels. He knew the changes in him would mean he could not stay here for long, he and his brother could never live under the same roof again, but he would not think of that today, tomorrow would be soon enough.

An early riser, Will had washed and found the breakfast parlour only to find his brother there before him. Stunned to hear singing, he had entered to find a small, pink-cheeked, fair-haired boy being jostled on the Duke’s lap. The boy was giggling and tugging handfuls of his father’s hair as Joseph sang. His brother’s face was softened in a smile as he looked down at his son.

Will had cleared his throat and the smile had fallen to be replaced by the cold look of the previous evening.
 

“I trust you slept well?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“This is your nephew, Billy,” Joseph then said.
 

Will had never been overly fond of children, possibly because he had never met any, however Billy was his blood and having lived without family he knew how important it was for his nephew to know he was there for him if one day he should need him.
 

Moving closer, he had crouched and held out his hand, the boy had taken one finger and squeezed it hard offering him a wide smile that showed off two small, white teeth. Rising he had kissed a soft cheek and then seated himself at the table. The brothers had not spoken again, however Billy’s noise had been enough to make the meal bearable.
 

Pulling his overcoat tighter, Will skirted an icy puddle and wished he’d taken Penny up on the offer of a pair of Joseph’s gloves. Living in a cold climate once again was going to take some getting used to. Walking up the path cut in the side of the hill, Will made his way to the cemetery that overlooked the village of Twoaks. His parents were buried here and he had visited them rarely before he left, however upon waking this morning he’d known he needed to come.
 

Passing through the small gate Will entered the cemetery and looked around him. Nothing appeared to have changed overly much; the older graves were at the rear and in need of a good weeding, whilst the newer were closer to the front.
 

“I wish you were here, Mama.”

Looking over the headstones to where that voice had come from, he saw a lady sitting beside a grave. Her head was uncovered and lowered. Red-gold hair hung in a long, thick, platted rope down her spine. Will felt his heart skip a beat as he stared at the back of Olivia Langley’s head. She was the only woman he knew that had hair the colour of sunset. Her mother must have passed away sometime in the last five years. Will felt a twinge of sadness for the vivacious blond lady who had always had a smile for him whenever they met.

“I promised you I would look after them. Do you remember, Papa? When you died I came up here and said I would do whatever it takes to give them a safe and happy future.”

He should not intrude on her grief; he should go. Turn around and walk away before she saw him, but he couldn’t get his legs to move.
 

“But I didn’t think it was going to be so hard.”

Christ, she was crying. Soft sobs that tore at his insides because they were the sound of someone whose heart was broken. His feet carried him forward and soon he stood behind her.
 

She was on her knees, one of her bare hands clutched a headstone and her head was bowed in defeat. Will read the two stones and realized that both Lord and Lady Langley had died since his departure.

Will had thought about Olivia a lot since he had left, about the days they had spent walking over the hills of Twoaks talking of everything and anything. With her he had always managed to drop the façade he had erected to shut everyone out, with her he had been a man who had nothing to prove, a man happy with the company he was keeping. Looking at her ring-less fingers he had the answer to one of the questions that had plagued him, and knew he had no right to feel pleased about her unmarried state.

“Olivia, don’t be alarmed it is I, William Ryder.”

His words had been spoken softly, yet Will watched her fingers briefly clench around the headstone, the knuckles turning white before releasing it.
 

“Please accept my sincere condolences for the loss of your parents, they were lovely people.”

Still she didn’t look at him, but sat back on her heels, her hands now in her lap, head lowered.
 

“I lost my parents, as you know, many years ago yet still I miss them, it is almost as if the world is in some way depleted with their passing. Of course, I had you to thank for helping me through their deaths, Olivia. You walked endless miles over these hills listening to me talk as I tried to come to terms with the grief.”

She was listening to him. He could tell because her cries had stopped, there was just the occasional hitch in her breathing.

“To say it eases would lesson what they meant to us, Olivia, yet given time we learn to live with their death.”

She seemed so small, huddled in front of him, worn black cloak hanging behind her. Eyeing the patches around the hem he wondered just how hard Olivia Langley was finding things. The sad little figure before him was a complete contrast to the delectable young lady who had once brought him to his knees with just a look.

“Come, take my hand, Olivia, and we shall sit on the seat above the cemetery and look down at the village of Two Oakes while we become reacquainted.”

He heard her sniff.
 

“I-it seems you have been gone too long, my lord, if you now pronounce the village’s name like an outsider.” Her voice was thick with tears.

“I had just come to that realization, Olivia, hence my return home. Now come, you need to get up off this cold ground,” Will added, putting his hand under her elbow. She gave a sharp hiss of breath.

“Are you hurt, Olivia?”

“No, my lord, you just startled me.”

Placing his hands on her waist Will simply lifted her to her feet when she made no move to stand. She was light as a feather and he could tell she had lost some of the soft curves that had once tormented him, and he wondered again how hard Olivia Langley was finding life.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to face him and then dropping into a curtsey.

Five years ago Olivia had been seventeen and a young lady who was beginning to understand the hold she had over men, most especially him. She had made him feel like one minute he was standing on his head and the other on his feet. But more importantly, she had become the one person in his life who had understood to him.
 

“Hello,” Will said, looking into her sad, red-rimmed eyes. She was still beautiful, in fact to Will she seemed more so. She had lost the roundness in her face, every bone was now defined, from the line of her cheeks to the curve of her jaw. Her face was pale and dark smudges under her cinnamon eyes told him she was not sleeping well. She appeared fragile and vulnerable, both words he would previously never have used when describing the luscious Livvy Langley
 

“Good day, Lord Ryder.” She looked at him, her eyes expressionless. “How long have you been back from your travels?” Her voice was distant, as if they were strangers.

“I arrived home last night.”

“Your family must be pleased to see you.”

“Some of my family are pleased, Olivia.”

“Surely your brother’s reaction does not surprise you, my lord. You walked away without a word.”

Will smiled but she did not respond. “How did you know it was Joseph?”

“Thea talked of you constantly and always with longing, Lord Ryder, I doubt she would have been anything but happy to see you.”

The wind caught at her hair pulling a lock free and she brushed it aside impatiently.
 

“And you, Olivia? I walked away from you without a word. Do you forgive me?”

“It matters not how I feel, my lord,” she said, dropping her eyes which told him it did matter a great deal.

“Yes, it does.”

She didn’t know what to say to that so she fell silent, another surprise. The Olivia he had known had no idea how to be quiet.

“I know my apology is late in coming, Olivia, yet I will tender it all the same.”

She glared at him then. “I have no wish to hear your apologies, Lord Ryder, they are of no consequence to me.”

Realizing that now was not the time to pursue this topic any further he instead took her arm. “Will you walk with me to my parents’ graves and then sit with me on the seat overlooking the village? I need to catch up on the gossip and the Langleys, if my memory serves me well, always knew what was going on in Twoaks.” She didn’t respond instantly although her fingers curled into fists at her side. Will knew she was going to refuse him so he steered her along the row of headstones and down the next before she had a chance.
 

“Release me please, my lord, I need to return to my home.”
 

Ignoring her, Will continued on to where his parents were buried in a special raised area to the rear of the cemetery beside their ancestors. He walked to the headstones with Olivia and stood silently reading the words.

“I miss them still, even more so now I have returned,” he said quietly.

“I always make sure to visit them when I come here.”

“Do you?” he queried, wondering why.

She shot him a defensive look.
 

“I’m sorry if you do not feel I have any rights to visit with them, my lord, but I knew them well, especially after they rescued me when I was six years old and had gotten lost in the woods”
 

“I am not censuring you, Olivia.” Will looked down at her; she was studying the headstones thus avoiding his eyes. “Dare I ask what a six-year-old was doing alone the woods?”

“It matters not, my lord, I was merely explaining why I visited them.”

She was bristling like a hedgehog. They had once been friends, very close friends, but now he realized she thought of him as anything but.
 

“Surely you cannot leave me hanging like that, Olivia. To hear something new about a parent, who has been long passed, is a treasure no one could resist.”

She chewed her lip for several seconds while waging some kind of war within herself and then finally, with a small huff of breath, she spoke.

“My father had told me that there was a family of tiny people living in the woods at the bottom of Willow Hall. They only came out when they were sure no one would see them because they were fearful that their secret would be discovered.”

“You mean they had other secrets besides the fact that they only reached your knees and lived in the woods?” Will teased.

“Six-year-olds are literal creatures, my lord. My interest was purely in the secret, not the viability of the story. And, of course, I also once believed everything my father told me.”

Will heard the pain in her words. She obviously still felt her father’s loss keenly. Releasing her he touched the headstones of his parents and whispered the words, “I’m home now, rest easy,” before he once again took Olivia’s arm and led her out of the cemetery.

“I should return to my sisters, my lord.”

“Please finish your story, Olivia,” he said as they climbed the rest of the path to the seat. Lowering her onto the wooden bench he took the place beside her. She shuffled aside, putting several inches between them and then perched on the edge. The old Livvy would have never moved away from him, in fact she would have settled her skirts, making sure to let her fingers brush his thigh.

“It does not look as if much has changed down there.” Will looked at the village that lay below them. Small and bustling, it was a hive of activity as carts, carriages and people scurried about. From this distance they resembled a colony of ants.

“Change is inevitable, my lord,” she said in a flat voice.

“Tell me the rest of the story, Olivia.”
 

“I slipped out of the house when no one was looking and ran to the woods. I walked and walked, lifting leaves and branches, kicking aside dirt but I could not find the little people and when I grew tired I looked around and realized I was hopelessly lost and could not find the path home.”

Will remembered her as a six-year-old skipping down the aisle in church; she had been beautiful even then.
             

“I could always wail louder than anyone else,” she added with a small tired sigh that tugged at his chest.
 

“Your parents were out riding and overheard me. Your father picked me up and asked why I was out there alone and I told him that I was trying to find the little people who make the best sweets out of lemon and honey.”

Will laughed. “So that was the secret.”

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