The Blackmailed Bride

Finley stalked around to a side table, picked up a trinket, looked at it and quickly set it down. The movements were jerky, and his breathing was harsh. His back stiffened and his arms angled against his body. Olivia wondered if perhaps he were going to have an attack of some kind.

“Marcus didn’t tell you I came to see him before you left for town, then?” The words were clipped.

“No,” she answered cautiously.

His brows lowered, making angry, dark slashes, which obscured his eyes. “I thought as much.”

“Was there something he should have told me?” she asked. It was unlike Marcus to keep anything from her, and now, she was curious.

“Yes. You should have been consulted before our meeting was over,” he answered hotly.

The subject of their meeting and her role in the matter were a mystery. The only thing that could possibly have necessitated her involvement would have been if Finley were propos—

Oh, no, not that.

Finley was a friend, but he would never be more. While she liked him quite well, there was no tension, no attraction…nothing deeper than admiration and respect. And while admiration and respect were essential in a marriage, Olivia wanted something completely unfashionable in hers—love. And she’d certainly never led the baron to think she harbored any romantic feelings for him.

They’d been familiar, of course, but far from suggestive. The thought made her breathe a bit easier. Finley knew her views on marriage, just as he knew she did not feel that way about him. So something else must have been a subject of interest between the two men.

A maid entered with tea, and Olivia was able to busy herself with the preparation of their cups. She didn’t ask for a reminder of how he liked his as this was a scene they had played many times in the past. Although perhaps not with this level of discomfort.

“Would you care to tell me now what it is you were discussing with Marcus?” she asked as the baron took a seat.

Finley paused, as though he were not certain of what should be said. “Yes. You have a right to know,” he returned. “I wished to consult with your brother on a matter very dear to my heart—”

What? This was becoming the most peculiar conversation she’d had in some time.

“But your brother wouldn’t give me the time to explain my case before denying my request,” Finley continued, clearly agitated. “Now, I ask you, what kind of gentleman does not grant a serious proposal his full consideration before offering an answer?”

Olivia didn’t have a response.

“After abruptly and unfairly turning me away, Marcus didn’t want you to see me and hear what he’d done. That’s your reason for leaving the country so quickly.” He nodded once, apparently already convinced of the truth of his explanation.

“I still don’t understand.”

“I petitioned Marcus to let me make you my bride.”

Her stomach plummeted. She could think of nothing to say in response.

It would have been much easier if Finley had accepted Marcus’s refusal…something she needed to discuss with her brother later. How dare he not tell her about Finley’s proposal? Had he done so, at least she would have been prepared.

Because, by all appearances, Finley was unwilling to abide by Marcus’s ruling, and it seemed she must be the one to say the words.

“You wished me to be your wife?” she asked unnecessarily.

“I still wish it. Why else would I have followed you here?”

His declaration would have sent most women collapsing into the nearest chair in a flutter. What woman didn’t wish to hear such tender words? Finley was titled, wealthy, handsome and charming. His blond hair was always perfectly arranged, his blue eyes were bright and his features were pleasing.

“I am honored by your offer…truly I am…”

Perhaps he sensed her impending refusal because he hastened to add, “I have feelings for you I’d not thought myself capable of. And I think, were you to give this matter your full consideration, you would see we are well suited for one an other.”

She managed nothing more than an indrawn breath before he continued. “You would be taken care of and would have anything you wanted. I can assure you. You could live wherever you wished. I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do with your time.”

“I have no doubt you will make a very attentive husband,” Olivia rushed on when she saw his self-assured smile. He thought he had swayed her so easily with a few pretty words. “But I’m afraid I must decline the offer. I am your friend, but I wouldn’t make you a good wife.”

Finley’s mouth was a tight line.

“I really am sorry,” she hastened to add.

He cut off any further apologies with a slash of his hand. “You should give yourself time to adjust to the idea. It does you credit that you are not overly eager. I would like for my future wife to weigh her decisions carefully.”

Did he have to make this any harder for her? Had she not had enough groveling with the Viscount Danfield? Why were men so determined to believe that when a woman turned down their proposal the no was negotiable?

“I’m certain, in time, you will meet a woman whom embodies all of those qualities,” Olivia said.

“You are that woman.” Finley’s voice burned with such intensity she instinctively shied away.

“I count our friendship very dear,” her assurances continued.

“And would it not be the natural extension of our friendship to commit our lives to each other?” he asked. “You’ve told me you are closer to me than anyone else…save your brother,” he snarled the last word. “Imagine how comfortable we could be together.”

“I could never be that comfortable with you.” Olivia’s voice was shrill, several pitches higher than normal, an indication of her frustration. “I will not marry you. A union between us is both unwise and impossible.” She had to stop herself before any more words tumbled out.

“I see.” Finley’s response was toneless, an odd counterpart to the emotion so evident in his voice earlier.

“I don’t mean to hurt you, Julian,” she said his name quietly. “Especially not after you have done so much for me.”

His eyes met hers, and she was surprised by the venom there. “Yes, I’ve done quite a bit, haven’t I? I looked after you when no one else could be bothered. Your father and mother both gone…your brother busy with something else more than not.”

“Marcus had estate matters to attend to,” she argued.

He waved away her excuse. “I was there for you whenever you needed after your mother’s unfortunate accident.” He sneered as he said the words.

“I will be forever in your debt for helping me over the years. But you’ll have to accept my gratitude because that’s all I have to give.” She hoped he’d take the proffered olive branch.

His smile was swift but lacked its earlier charm. It was sinister, and Olivia couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her friend. “Why would I settle for gratitude or friendship when I want so much more?” he asked.

“It’s all I’m going to offer,” she repeated.

“A shame. I’d hoped this wouldn’t have to get unpleasant.” He shrugged. “I can see I’ve been too optimistic.”

Unpleasant?

“Let me be clear,” he continued, “you have something I want, and I think you’ll find I have something you want as well. A wedding between the two of us will guarantee our mutual happiness.”

“What could you possibly have that I would want now?” Olivia was starting to get angry. This didn’t have to destroy their friendship, but Finley seemed unwilling to leave any strand of their former relationship intact. “Why,” she continued, “would I consent to being your wife when you have shown such disregard for my wishes today? I don’t appreciate being ignored and bullied.”