A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4) by Chasity Bowlin Page A

uncertainty of it all made her nervous. Would he expect her in his bed that night? A traitorous part of her hoped that he would.
    The gown she’d chosen was her best one, purchased just before she left London with money provided by Mr. Swindon. Made for another lady who had failed to collect it from the dressmaker, Collins had altered it for her. Whatever complaints she had about the maid, her skill with the needle was not one of them.
    The claret silk molded to her curves, emphasizing the fullness of her bosom and cascading over her hips. It could not have fit her better had it been made specifically for her.
    “You’ve done a marvelous job, Collins. Thank you.”
    The young woman stopped in the midst of putting away her day dress. Her eyes widened and her lips formed a perfect ‘O’. “You’re very welcome, m’lady. Always enjoyed sewing. It’s a special treat to work on a gown so fine.”
    “Do you make dresses, then?” Olympia asked, recalling how very fashionably Lady Florence had dressed. She could never hope to compete with the blonde beauty, but it wouldn’t hurt to be as well armed as possible.
    “I can, m’lady. But we’ve no fabric to work with here.”
    Olympia sighed. “Fabric is easy enough to obtain. We’ll go to the village… though I hear we will have a less than warm welcome.”
    Collins nodded emphatically. “You’ve got that aright, m’lady. The servants do talk here. More than a bit. They all whisper about a tragedy. Something happened with the last Viscount. It’s all whispers and glances, but none of ‘em will say what. Though they are all stirred up a bit with the other Lady Darke coming back. But they all stop talking as soon as they see me. I reckon they know where my loyalties are.”
    Olympia understood the maid’s frustration. All the vague comments and references to tragedy with no one ever actually just saying what they meant was enough to drive one mad. And while it might have been idle curiosity to Collins, for Olympia, it was something else. She felt compelled to know, riddled with questions and curiosity that would give her no peace. All of it was centered firmly around the man she had married, and whether or not he could be trusted. The secrets of Darkwood Hall weighed heavily on her. They weighed heavily on her husband, too. She sensed that in him; that he struggled with some inner pain. But sympathy for him could be costly and she vowed to guard her heart carefully.
    Catching Collins’ eye in the mirror, Olympia posed the question casually, as if the answer meant nothing to her. “And what of the previous Lord Darke’s widow… have they said aught of her?”
    Collins, though young, was no one’s fool. Her lips primmed in disapproval as she placed several items in the armoire. “Oh, they say plenty about her, my lady. A few of the footmen are right friendly with her… seems they were just as friendly before she became a widow. The maids don’t seem to like her overmuch… has a temper, I heard one say. Will toss a room till it looks like it’s been burgled just because her breakfast tray came with tea instead of chocolate.”
    The gong rang for dinner before Olympia could press for more information. Rising from her dressing table, Olympia took one final look in the mirror. Collins skill with a needle was without equaled but her skill with the curling tongs was far from enviable. With that in mind, her hair had been fashioned into a simple coronet and laced with ribbon. It was far from fashionable but it would simply have to do.
    As she descended the stairs, Griffin was waiting for her near the bottom. When she reached him, she accepted his proffered arm only too well aware that she was in fact accepting so much more. They were proclaiming, to all there to witness, that they were joined. And while the household consisted only of servants, servants’ gossip could travel far and wide.
    “That gown is very fetching… but not nearly as fetching as the woman