The Makings of a Lady

by Catherine Tinley

Harry stroked his jaw, his eyes dancing. He looked like he was suddenly enjoying the situation. ‘You spoke to the Major?’

  Jem nodded. ‘He remembers George signing up.’

  ‘Well, there you are then!’ George erupted. ‘Proof that I told the truth!’ He frowned. ‘His name was Major Cooke, I think.’

  ‘That’s him,’ Jem agreed cordially.

  Olivia was totally confused. So far, Jem had only confirmed that George hadn’t lied!

  ‘The interesting part, though, was when we looked up the register. You see, there was no George Manning on the list.’ He waited a moment, to let the full effect sink in. ‘However, we eventually found an entry on the right date, for a—’ he consulted his notes ‘—George Mainwaring. Can you explain that?’

  George seemed incapable of speech. There was a brief silence. Jem continued to fix George with an intense gaze. Olivia’s heart was thumping loudly in her chest.

  ‘I can explain.’ Miss Manning, a rigid smile on her face, stepped forward. ‘It has all been a terrible misunderstanding. You see...’ She paused and shook her head sadly. ‘Our parents were called Mainwaring.’

  ‘So why the deuce did you change your name then?’ asked Adam in irritation. Unlike Harry, he did not seem as though he was being at all entertained.

  ‘Ah. That would be a small matter of...er...’ She was now wringing her hands together. ‘That is to say, we were under pressure from some creditors and so we decided to have a fresh start. Mainwaring and Mannering and Manning are all the same name, you know. There was no harm in it.’ Withdrawing an exquisite lace handkerchief, she dabbed gently at the corner of her eyes.

  ‘No harm at all, my dear friend.’ Mrs Buxted patted Miss Manning’s hand consolingly. ‘Why, anyone might find themselves in debt! And we all know your brother to have been one of the bravest at Waterloo.’

  Jem shook his head. ‘Mrs Buxted, I am afraid there is evidence that George did not fight at Waterloo.’

  ‘Of course I did!’ George spluttered. ‘That is where I was injured.’

  Olivia was putting it all together in her head. ‘Mr Manning,’ she ventured, ‘you told me that you had rescued another soldier at Waterloo, after he had become trapped under his horse.’

  At this, Jem and Harry both started, then looked at each other. Both looked astonished.

  ‘Do pray continue, Olivia,’ Harry drawled. ‘This sounds a most interesting story.’

  Olivia frowned in concentration. ‘Well, I cannot recall the exact details, but he told me that a horse had rolled on top of a soldier, leaving him trapped beneath it. Mr Manning managed to pull him out, at great risk to himself, and almost died because of his bravery.’

  George’s eyes shifted downwards. ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘I do not often speak of it.’

  ‘But you should!’ cried Jem. ‘Why, this is wonderful—to have a true hero in this very room! Why, that settles everything!’

  Olivia’s stomach lurched.

  Jem brushed a tiny speck from his sleeve, adding casually, ‘But, tell me, where exactly were you when this happened? For I am certain that I heard some talk of this particular act of bravery in the days and weeks after the victory. But I cannot recall the precise location—was it up on the ridge at La Haye Sainte, or on the plain below?’

  ‘Er... I cannot be sure exactly. My injury...everything was so confused...’

  ‘Ah, yes, your injury. Broken arm, wasn’t it?’ George nodded warily. Jem consulted his parchment again. ‘But—can you explain to me how your injury was recorded by the Army doctor a full week before the great battle? It says here that you fell from a horse during training and sold out four days before Waterloo.’

  Olivia happened to glance at Adam. His eyes were gleaming with appreciation at Jem’s revelation.

  ‘Well, clearly, the records are wrong!’ snapped George. He squared his shoulders. ‘Emma, let us retire. This discussion is too upsetting for you.’ He took Miss Manning’s arm and they turned to leave.

  ‘One moment!’ Jem placed a hand on his brow, tapping his long fingers thoughtfully. ‘A memory is coming back to me...something to do with a horse and a man trapped underneath... Now, what was that?’

  George and his sister exchanged glances. George swallowed.

  Olivia watched in bemusement. What on earth was Jem up to?

  Harry had a mischievous look in his eye. ‘La Haye Sainte, I think you’ll find, Ensign. Just behind the ridge.’

  ‘You are right, Captain Fanton!’ Jem saluted smartly to his former commander, then grinned. ‘If you hadn’t pulled me out, I was done for!’

  ‘And if you hadn’t told Juliana where to find me on the battlefield, I’d not be here now.’

  Olivia gasped. ‘Then—Jem—your broken leg—?’

  He gave her an expressive look. ‘I am surprised you did not hear of it before. That horse was probably sixteen hands, if not more. I’m just glad that your brother here—’ he jerked his head towards Harry ‘—was on hand to pull me out. It was half-covering my chest and I could not get a breath. Bravest thing I ever saw. He knew when he bent to help me that he would be leaving himself unguarded. And sure enough, a French cavalryman tried to take his head off.’

  Harry rapped his knuckles against his own head. ‘Takes more than a French sword to get through this skull,’ he said proudly.

  Olivia found her voice. ‘Why has nobody told me this?’ Harry had risked himself to save Jem’s life. ‘Harry, you are wonderful!’ She hugged her brother tightly.

  ‘Hey, steady on, little one!’ he said gruffly.

  Mrs Buxted looked confused. ‘Then—it was a lie? All of it?’ Her voice sounded small. ‘Miss Manning? Emma?’ There was a wounded appeal in her eyes.

  Miss Manning’s eyes narrowed. ‘It was worth a try. You all have so much wealth, you have no idea what it is to scrimp and save, and make do! If he’d married the girl, we’d have been set for life! The sister of an Earl, no less! He’d only be forced to sleep with her once, to avoid an annulment. Then we’d be free to enjoy all that lovely Fanton wealth! It would have been worth all the sacrifices—including putting up with your incessant babbling!’ Mrs Buxted gasped in shock.

  ‘Then—it was all an act? You did not actually wish to marry me?’ Olivia’s voice shook a little. Manning’s deceit was outrageous! She could not recall ever feeling so angry.

  He smiled insolently. ‘My taste does not run to aristocratic virgins, I’m afraid—even when they are as pretty as you!’ Across the room, Jem’s hand tightened into a fist.

  ‘Come, George! We shall retire!’ Miss Manning swept forward on George’s arm, but Adam barred their way. ‘You will both leave this house first thing in the morning,’ he said softly, ‘and you will never come back. And if one word of scandal involving my sister comes to my ears, then I will hunt you down. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Oh, we understand,’ said George bitterly, ‘how you look down on such as us. Fear not, we shall leave as soon as possible.’ Miss Manning, her lips closed tightly together in a thin line, kept her gaze on a fixed point somewhere over Adam’s shoulder.

  Satisfied, Adam stepped back and allowed them to leave. The door closed with a resonant click.

  ‘Good work, Jem!’ Adam placed a hand on Jem’s shoulder. ‘I am in your debt.’

  ‘I had to know,’ Jem replied. ‘Once I’d got it into my head that there was something questionable about him, I could not let it go. It’s why I went to London.’

  ‘How did you know what he was up to in this room just now?’ asked Harry. ‘You were most insistent that Adam and I must accompany you immediately.’

  ‘I didn’t know for sure, but I have been watching him closely this evening and he seemed to be behaving oddly—hanging around the hallway, then suddenly dashing off to speak to his sister. She seemed most interested in whatever he was telling her and, a
s soon as he had gone, she approached Mrs Buxted in great haste. At that point, I decided to fetch you two and follow them.’

  ‘I am so glad you did, Jem,’ said Olivia, ‘for Mr Manning would not let me go!’

  His eyes searched her face. ‘I am sorry if you have been hurt by this, Olivia. He is very charming and it would not be impossible to think that any young lady might resist such a handsome chap.’

  ‘I assure you,’ she replied earnestly, ‘I have taken no hurt.’ It seemed important that he knew. ‘My heart was untouched by his charm. My only concern was how I might reject his offer without hurting his feelings.’

  Something intense blazed in his eyes, briefly. ‘I am glad of it,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘They lied to me!’ Mrs Buxted, having had, it seemed, enough of being ignored, sank down on to a nearby sofa. ‘I cannot believe I was so taken in! How could they do such a thing? What sort of person would abuse my friendship and my hospitality so?’ She was beginning to get herself worked up. Olivia, who had seen Mrs Buxted in full hysterics on more than one occasion previously, bit her lip.

  Sitting beside her, she spoke softly. ‘We were all taken in. Miss Manning and her brother are clearly accomplished liars.’

  Mrs Buxted seemed not to hear her and promptly burst into noisy tears. Olivia looked round. ‘Can someone fetch Faith? And we might need some smelling salts.’

  Harry and Adam, already looking uncomfortable at Mrs Buxted’s distress, promptly left to discreetly fetch a servant and their hostess. Jem stayed, his eyes on Olivia as she tried to comfort Mrs Buxted.

  After just a few moments, Faith bustled in, frowning. ‘Oh, Mama, they told me you are upset. Hush, now, all will be well!’

  ‘They lied to all of us! Oh, Faith, I brought them to your home. And they played us false!’ Mrs Buxted was genuinely distressed, though she was a little calmer now.

  ‘I know,’ said Faith. ‘Harry has just told me. But, Mama, it is not your fault. Why, we all trusted them! Here, lie down and close your eyes.’ Mrs Buxted did so and, thankfully, after a moment her sobs subsided to mere hiccoughs.

  ‘At least we found out before they did any real harm,’ said Olivia, who was beginning to think it all over. ‘Faith, did you know that it was Jem who exposed the truth about George?’ Jem’s insight and persistence had to be celebrated!

  ‘All I did was to check his records,’ said Jem, shrugging. ‘It was you who revealed the lie about his so-called heroism at Waterloo. It was lucky that you remembered his tale in such detail!’

  Olivia dimpled at him. ‘We make a good team.’ She could not resist it.

  ‘Indeed we do!’ He smiled back.

  Faith cleared her throat. Jem and Olivia both looked at her, startled.

  ‘We must not let any breath of scandal come out about this. You two should return to the ballroom. Smile and dance, and be as you usually are. Then, if anything is said afterwards, people will say, in all truth, that all seemed well.’

  ‘You are very wise, Mrs Foxley. Lady Olivia, may I have the next dance?’ He bowed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a hint of a smile.

  She grinned, and curtsied. ‘I should be delighted, Mr Ford.’

  He offered his arm and she rested her hand on it.

  Juliana bounced up to them as they entered the ballroom. ‘Where have you been? You missed the first dance after supper—it was a quadrille. Faith, I must say your ball is wonderful!’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Faith. With a sidelong glance at Jem and Olivia, she added, ‘I must speak to the musicians.’

  Harry approached. ‘Well, that was a good piece of work. Well done, Jem!’

  ‘What have I missed?’ asked Juliana, eyeing them all curiously.

  ‘Dance this next one with me and I’ll tell you,’ said Harry, grinning.

  Sure enough, the musicians were ready to play again. Jem offered his hand and Olivia took it. As they reached the dance floor she realised what Faith had done. The musicians were playing the tantalising opening bars of a waltz! The second waltz of the evening and totally unplanned. Faith had done it for them, she knew.

  For me and Jem.

  ‘A waltz,’ murmured Jem, bending close to her. ‘Olivia, have you any idea for how long I have wished to waltz with you?’ Incapable of speech, she responded only with a smile. Her heart swelled.

  Only an hour before, she had waltzed with George Manning. This waltz was as different as it could possibly be to that experience. This time, she was perfectly happy and in harmony with her partner. His closeness thrilled her and she quite enjoyed the notion that he would be presented with eyefuls of her cleavage as they moved through the figures.

  And yet her feeling was not only physical. She felt as though she were floating, or flying.

  Bliss, her mind said. This is what bliss feels like.

  His hands in hers, or around her waist, the feeling of warmth from his body, his breath on her cheek. Why, it was a lot like kissing—but without the actual kissing! Now, finally, she realised why the older generation disapproved of waltzing. It was because you could feel like this!

  All too soon, it was over. In a glow of happiness, Olivia and Jem sought refreshments, then sat chatting about everything and nothing. They were inseparable for the little that remained of the evening. Lizzie and Juliana, and Olivia’s brothers came and went—sometimes they were in a group of six all together, sometimes just three or four, but always, Olivia stayed where Jem was and Jem stayed where Olivia was. By the time they were all retiring and the guests were gone, the incident with the Mannings seemed as though it had happened a week ago.

  Jem kissed her hand goodnight and expressed the wish that she might walk with him in the morning. The expression in his eyes was all that she had wished for. She floated up the stairs and to her chamber, only vaguely aware of where she was. She slept immediately and more soundly than she had for weeks. All was well. She just knew it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sometimes, when you first wake up, there is a moment of absolute stillness. The mind is not yet thinking or remembering, and the heart is resting, with no emotions to confuse the senses. In recent weeks, Olivia had come to appreciate this moment when it happened, as most of the time, she had been jolted awake by her own anxieties, fears, or dreadful memories, with no pause or boundary between sleep and worried consciousness.

  This morning, it was different. She stirred, opened her eyes and stretched, savouring the perfect quietness of her own mind. Slowly, she became conscious of a wonderful feeling of anticipation—such as she used to feel when she was a child on her birthday, or at Christmas time. The birds were cawing raucously outside her window, waking her from a dreamless, restful sleep—just as they had the last time she had stayed at Monkton Park.

  Monkton Park! A thrill rushed through her, as she remembered last night and waltzing with Jem. The way he had held her, had looked at her. The way she had felt... She hugged the memories to her, savouring each one. The blissful feeling was still there, and only a little muted since last night.

  Restlessly, she tossed and turned, then, hearing some activity outside, she gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. She rang for a maid, then, padding across to the window, drew aside the curtains and looked outside. Down below, a carriage was waiting, its paintwork a little worn in places. Olivia had not seen it before. A footman was busy strapping trunks to the rear and, as she watched, George and his sister walked towards the carriage. As far as Olivia could tell, only the servants were seeing them off—or, more likely, ensuring that they left.

  Her hair had come loose from its plait and had fallen forward around her face. She reached up to pull it back—just as George looked upwards. The movement caught his eye and his gaze immediately went to her. His expression promptly changed from sulky to fierce and he said something to his sister. She looked up, sneered at Olivia and replied to him.


  Shaken, Olivia stepped back into the safety of her chamber. She should not be surprised, she supposed, at their anger, yet she was. They had lied and cheated their way into Monkton Park and had tried to trap her into marriage. Yet they were angry with her that they had been found out!

  She shook her head. Best to forget them—without ever forgetting the lessons she had learned from the acquaintance.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she listened as the carriage moved away, then sighed with relief. They were gone.

  The maid, when she arrived, informed her that the family and guests were all still abed. Knowing that she should still be sleeping, too, after such a late night, but unable to do so, Olivia got up.

  I shall go for a ride, she decided.

  It would be the best way to harness the restless energy within her and pass the time until she could see Jem again. With the maid’s assistance she dressed quickly in her favourite blue riding habit, then went directly to the stables.

  ‘I’m to accompany you, my lady,’ said the groom. ‘Mr Foxley was most insistent.’

  ‘I see.’ She did not normally ride with a groom at Monkton Park—the order was probably related to last night’s drama.

  But, she thought, the Mannings are gone—and with them, any danger.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘However, I would prefer to ride alone.’

  The groom looked alarmed. ‘But, miss—I mean, my lady! The master was most insistent.’

  ‘I can ride with you instead, on the pony!’ Will’s excited treble emerged from the hayloft. Olivia looked up to see his tousled head grinning at her. ‘My master would wish me to accompany you, my lady.’

  Unable to suppress a smile and warmed by the reference to Jem, Olivia relented. ‘Very well. But I am going now, Will.’

  ‘I shall take no more than five minutes to be ready, my lady! I promise!’

  He was true to his word and, soon after, despite the dubious looks and worried mutterings of Foxley’s groom, they trotted out together down the drive.

  ‘Let us go to the gate, then round to the river, Will. Do not fall off!’