Free Surrender to a Wicked Spy by Celeste Bradley Page A

of you until a month ago, but…" She gave up and let her hands fall to her side. "Oh, bother."
    Lady Reardon was gazing at her, both brows high. "You do carry on."
    "I know," Olivia said miserably. Now the obviously interesting Lady Reardon would suddenly decide to be elsewhere. "I can't help it."
    Lady Reardon tilted her head. "Me, neither. Want to go off somewhere and carry on?"
    "Oh my," Lord Reardon said faintly. "What a harrowing thought."
    Lady Reardon tucked her arm into Olivia's and waved a hand at her husband. "Go on and play with the other boys while I get to know my new partner in crime."
6
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    When everyone was gathered in the parlor, Olivia had only moments to attach names to faces before her mother pulled her aside.
    "Olivia, dear, I must beg your opinion of our new music room draperies."
    Olivia threw a regretful smile Lady Reardon's way but went willingly enough, although she knew perfectly well there were no new draperies. She'd only left home yesterday morning, for pity's sake! Still, it was doubtful she was going to be able to avoid her mother's censure for the entire party. Best to have it done without witnesses.
    Olivia let her mother guide her to the never-used music room. "You wished to speak to me privately on some matter, Mother?"
    Mother turned to her with an odd expression on her face. Was she actually
nervous
? Whatever for?
    "Olivia, dear, please sit down for a moment." She led Olivia to the aged sofa that still looked good enough but was best sat on carefully. Olivia perched on the edge of the cushion so as not to tempt fate with the elderly springs.
    She folded her hands in her lap and prepared herself. What had she done now? True, her hair had lost several pins already—she was fairly certain she'd left a few in the carriage—and her hem was still undeniably soiled, although the soot mark was barely visible on the gray satin. So what more fault could her mother possibly find?
    "Olivia, I ought to have had this talk with you yesterday. It plagued me sleepless all night that I had sent you into his house without—well,
motherly
preparation, you see, for the… the
act
."
    Olivia went very still. Oh dear. If her mother asked her what had happened last night, what was she to say?
You could say you had a marvelous time and cannot wait for it to happen again, and more
.
    Hmm. Perhaps not.
    Lady Cheltenham took Olivia's hand in her own. It was an odd and slightly alarming show of affection, since Olivia could not remember her mother ever touching her except to correct some malfunctioning hair ornament or an askew bodice.
    "Livvie…"
    Eek. Past alarming and directly to appalling! No one called her Livvie except for Walt. This bode no good.
    "Livvie," her mother began again, "I ought to have made sure that you understood the importance of what you were about to undertake." She sighed. "As you likely already have discovered… men are rather basic creatures, dear, capable of the most disgusting demands. Why, even your own esteemed father—"
    Father
? Oh,
ack!
Olivia's ears rang and she fought the violent impulse to leap up and flee. With all the will she possessed, she tuned her attention to her own breathing and heartbeat and to the faint murmur of the guests down the hall. She finally resorted to humming very softly to herself.
    At last, it seemed to be over.
    "… well, that was the last and only time he ever dared ask to leave the candles lighted, I can assure you!"
    "Mmm-mm." Olivia would never be able to look her father in the eye again. Ever.
    "So you see what you must tolerate, dear. Of course, for you it will be doubly difficult."
    Doubly
? "Why is that, Mother?"
    Her mother shook her head and patted Olivia's hand sorrowfully. "Because you must pretend to enjoy it, you poor creature. I was merely forced to tolerate. You must draw upon all your will and convince him that not only do you enjoy it, but that you want
more
!"
    She fixed Olivia with pale-eyed intensity. "It is a