to confess you’re a thief or a murderess on the run, lass?”
“Nothing quite so dramatic as that, my lord.” She drew a bracing breath, then met his gaze directly. “Actually, I’m an heiress on the run. And . . . and as you might have already guessed, my name isn’t Lavinia Morland. It’s Oliv . . . Olivia de Vere.”
Lord Sleat’s brows sank into a puzzled frown. “Olivia de Vere. I’ve heard your name somewhere before, but God knows why I know it. Wait a moment . . .” He studied her face. “Are you telling me your father was Edmund de Vere, the arms manufacturer? Good Lord, my regiment used his weaponry—de Vere bullets and rifles—when we were fighting Old Boney.” He rubbed his forehead as though his head hurt. “Olivia de Vere you say?”
“Yes, my lord. After my parents died, I was sent to live with my father’s brother and his wife, Edith, as my mother had no family to speak of. Reginald de Vere is my appointed legal guardian until I turn twenty-one on the fifteenth of October. But I won’t gain access to my fortune until I turn twenty-five. Or my uncle and trustee both agree to assign control to my husband if I wed before then. Such are the terms of my father’s will.”
“So, Miss de Vere, tell me why you took it upon yourself to abscond from London. Your aunt and uncle must be frantic with worry . . . unless . . . I take it that the man who accosted you at the King’s Head is someone from your family?”
“Yes . . .” Olivia was relieved beyond measure that Lord Sleat seemed to be taking this so well. “He’s my cousin. Uncle Reginald’s son, Felix de Vere. And . . .” This was the difficult part she had to get out. “And my uncle and aunt want us to wed to keep my fortune in the family. But I do not.”
Lord Sleat’s gaze hardened. “That man who hauled you down the street, hit you, and insulted you is your cousin?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“By God. You should have let me throttle the bastard.”
Olivia swallowed another mouthful of whisky. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” she said. “You see, I know things about Felix that my uncle and aunt don’t. And that knowledge puts me in grave danger.”
And then she poured out everything to Lord Sleat. How she’d come across Felix embezzling her inheritance money and how he’d threatened her, if she told his father about the theft. That her aunt and uncle controlled every aspect of her life and how her cousins Prudence and Patience despised her. How she would have sought sanctuary with her friends Lady Charlotte, Lady Malverne, Lady Langdale, or perhaps even Lady Chelmsford, but they wouldn’t be able to protect her, not when the law was on her uncle’s side.
And so, when the opportunity to become Tilda’s nursemaid and quit London altogether had presented itself, she hadn’t hesitated to take that chance. “I was so terrified, my lord. And I could think of no other way to protect myself. I reasoned that if I became someone else, Lavinia Morland, and stayed hidden until I turned twenty-one, then I could seek support from my friends. And they wouldn’t get into trouble either. My uncle cannot force me to live beneath his roof, or do anything at all, once I am legally of age.”
Lord Sleat rubbed his jaw. The bloodred ruby in his gold signet ring flashed in the firelight. “Lass, that is quite a story.”
“I assure you it’s entirely true.”
“I believe you. That’s not the problem.”
Olivia swallowed. The marquess’s expression was as hard as granite, his mouth a flat line. “I know I have deceived you terribly, my lord. I’ve . . . I’ve misrepresented who I am and done nothing but lie to you over and over again. But I was desperate and knew not whom to turn to.”
“Aye. That alone is a terrible thing, Miss Mor . . . I mean, Miss de Vere. That you had no one to ask for help. At least, no one who could make a real difference. You are right when you say the law is on your uncle’s side. I only wish . . .” He scrubbed a hand through his thick sable hair, ruffling it into wild spikes. “I only wish you had come to me sooner.”
“You’re not . . . you’re not angry with me? I would understand if you