Lady Olivia's Undoing

by Anne Gallagher

  “Lady Caymore, please have a seat. I will inform His Highness you are arrived.”

  From behind the closed door, Olivia heard a man yelling. She asked the footman, “Tell me, is he in a foul humor today?”

  The secretary looked surprised. “He was not.” He tapped on the door and opened it. “Lady Caymore is here, Your Highness.”

  “Dear Lady Olivia, do send her in,” the Prince said.

  Olivia reached the door, steeled herself, and then strode into the room, a pasted smile on her face. “Your Highness.” Olivia sank into a graceful curtsy. She looked up as she rose and Prince George stood near the window.

  He turned. “Lady Olivia, to what do I owe this great pleasure?” George presented her a courtly bow.

  “I’m afraid I have some dreadful news, Your Grace.” Olivia took a deep breath. “Penny has lost the child.”

  George took a step toward her. “Oh, my dear, no. When? How?”

  Olivia walked toward the Prince. “Six weeks, I have been informed. The baby was stillborn.”

  George nodded. “Olivia, I am so terribly sorry. Please do pass along my deepest condolences to William and Lady Penelope. It is a tragedy.” He shook his head. “But they are young, and in love. They will bounce back from this misfortune and prevail.” George smiled.

  “Your Grace.” Olivia took another step toward the Prince. “There is a certain issue of delicacy surrounding the child…”

  “Ah, yes, the title.” He stared hard at Olivia. “I see the fear of losing of it consumes you. Is that all you can think of during Will and Penny’s time of heartbreak?” he asked, disgust lacing the edges of his words.

  Olivia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. “Of course not, Your Highness. I am overcome with grief for my niece and her husband. However, I know that the Prime Minister is eager to recover the Caymore wealth for his fight against Bonaparte. I have no desire for that to interfere with Penny’s convalescence. She has just lost her child. I would hate for her and William to lose everything else as well.”

  The Prince shot her a sidelong glance. “Forgive me, Olivia. Of course, you are only thinking of your niece.” He sighed. “Very well. I will keep the Prime Minister and his committee at bay.”

  Olivia listened to George rant about the state of the British government for a quarter-hour before she politely said, “I am so sorry to have kept you, Your Highness. I know you must be wishing to arrive in Brighton ahead of the weather. Thank you so much for your kindness. I will pass along your regards to William and Penny.” She bobbed a short curtsey and retreated from the room.

  A footman escorted her to the carriage. Olivia settled herself on the seat as the footman set the step and closed the door. Perhaps it would be a comfort to Penny if had use of her old bedroom. After Penny and Will married, Olivia had given them a set of rooms in the west wing. One of the rooms was the… nursery.

  “We must return home immediately,” Olivia shouted to the footman. “Tell Hendricks. As quickly as we can.” She had to find another set of rooms for Penny and William. What would looking at the empty baby’s room do to Penny’s fragile state?

  Olivia braced herself against the interior as the carriage wove in and out of traffic on the busy London streets. Who could guess that Mayfair could be so busy at noon on a Tuesday? However, it only seemed a few short minutes before Hendricks, her coachman, pulled the horses to a stop in front of Caymore House. Olivia waited impatiently for the footman to set the step, leaped out, and ran to the front door. John opened it before she could place her hand on the handle.

  “Oh good, you’re home,” she said, as she rushed in. She fussed with the buttons on her gloves. “We must do something about the nursery before they arrive.”

  “It is too late,” he said. “They are arrived. In the salon.”

  Olivia looked at John. He shook his head.

  Olivia undid two buttons on her gloves as she walked down the hall. She took a deep breath as her hand reached for the door latch. Olivia smiled and opened the door. “Dearest, you’re home at last.” Olivia approached Penny with her arms open for a hug.

  Penny stepped back. “Hello, Aunt.”

  Olivia shot a glance to William. He walked over to her.

  “Hello, Lady O. How do you do?”

  Olivia grabbed William and embraced him. “Oh my dearest, I am so very sorry for your loss.” She kissed his cheek and looked at Penny. “My dearest girl, you must know, my heart is broken. I cannot bear …”

  “Forgive me, Aunt,” Penny said, in a tone Olivia had never heard before. “We are only here to tell you that William and I will be staying at St. James Place whilst we are in London. Quiggins informed us that Cousin Constance and her family will be staying over the holiday and we do not wish to intrude.” Penny tilted her head, jutting her nose in the air.

  Olivia stared at her niece. “What? No. I shall not hear of it. Who will take care of you?”

  “We have Jenks, and Tribbs is excellent at making potions for whatever ails us.” She smiled at William. “My mother will come by for tea I’m sure. And you are welcome.” Penny nodded to William. “I believe it is for the best, Aunt.” Penny pressed a brief kiss to Olivia’s cheek, then walked to William at the door.

  Before Olivia could utter a word of protest, they were gone. What had just happened? She replayed the short conversation in her head. They were moving to St. James? That place was dreadful. And even though Penny had redecorated, William’s town home remained a bachelor quarters. Perhaps Penny had already thought of the nursery at Caymore House. There was no baby’s room at the house on St. James.

  Oh, yes, she would come for tea. Tomorrow if need be. Olivia ran to the door and pulled it open. Up the hall, Quiggins clicked the latch on the front door.

  “Did you speak to them again? Did they tell you?” Olivia called as she raced up the hall. “How does she think she’s going to manage in that ramshackle old house for the duration of the winter. I do not believe one fireplace works properly in there. They will freeze to death.”

  John raised his brow. “You are not her mother. You are her aunt. And she is a grown woman who wants to live with her husband in relative peace as she finds her way back into Society. Once her friends realize Penny is in town, invitations will arrive. She will have to face them sooner or later.”

  Olivia hadn’t thought. Of course, all Penny’s friends were in a state of motherhood these days. Penny’s baby was to be number four in her circle. Olivia looked at John. “How do you manage to know so much about the fragile human condition?” She heaved a heavy sigh as tears threatened to fall. “Whatever shall I do without you?”

  John reached out to touch her hand and then let it fall to his side. “You will be relieved to know that I hired a butler. He will arrive on Friday.”

  John nodded down the hall and Olivia walked beside him.

  “Who is he?” She stepped into the yellow salon and motioned for him to close the door. When he did, she stepped over to him, her wrists held out. “Would you mind? I cannot unbutton them.”

  John unfastened the last two buttons. “His name is Manning. He is on loan to you from Lord Haverlane and Lady Violet with their compliments.”

  Olivia glanced at John. “Surely, they will have some company over Christmastide.”

  “They are leaving for Fairhaven on Thursday. Manning’s only request was that he be allowed to see his mother on Christmas morning. He would be back by twelve.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to have him at any price. How unusual though. I thought Violet of all people would want to see Penny.”

  “Perhaps Lady Violet thinks her appearance would overset Penny.”

  Olivia nodded. Violet’s loose clothing left no doubt about her state of gravidation. “Yes, perhaps you are right. I hope Penny does not think ill of her.”

  John shook his head. “I’m sure not. Lady Violet is only thinking of Penny’s feelings. Penny will see that. She only needs a little time.”


  Olivia touched John’s cheek. “What shall I do without you?”

  He winked at her. “I’m sure you will find something to keep you occupied.” He stepped back. “I have many things to attend today and Andrew on my heel. I shall take my leave of you now.” He bowed and exited the room.

  Olivia turned to the windows that overlooked the small side garden. Penny needed time alone, and if she wanted to be with William in that decrepit old building, then so be it. Olivia would stop by Olmstead House and speak to Honoria, Penny’s mother. Honoria would know the real reason behind the move.

  She glanced at her desk. The tray on top held several items of correspondence. She should attend to those before luncheon.

  Olivia couldn’t bear to sit down to a meal alone and sent a note round to her closest friend Joanna, the Duchess of Cantin. Joanna would want to know about the baby, she was William’s aunt.

  Joanna arrived promptly at half past one. When Olivia met her in the hall, she blurted, “Penny has lost the baby.”

  “Oh, no. Olivia, I am so sorry.” Joanna embraced her. “Oh, how is Penny? Is she here?”

  Olivia looped her arm through Joanna’s, and headed down the hall. “No. She has decided to stay at St. James Place.”

  “Good heavens, why?”

  “I think she must have realized, as I finally did, there is no nursery there.”

  Joanna nodded her head. “Poor thing. Did you see her? How does she look?”

  “Very well indeed.” Olivia led Joanna into the small morning room. “But she is young, and resilient. Though it is anyone’s guess how long she will mourn. She is angry and was hardly civil to me. However, I do understand you always hurt the ones you love the most as you know they will always forgive you.” Olivia smiled. “Dearest, do forgive my prattling. I did not invite you for tea and misery. I hope you do not mind, it is only the two of us. I hate to waste the wood to heat the dining room.” Olivia pulled out a chair for Joanna and then sat in the other.

  Joanna waved her hand. “We would be eating in the kitchen if Stephen had his way.” Joanna’s late husband Stephen had passed from his mortal coil almost two years before.

  “Do you remember the night he nearly set the linens on fire?” Olivia asked.

  She and Joanna shared another laugh, and then Joanna sobered. “Who is going to take care of Penny?”

  Olivia nodded. “That is exactly what I said, but they have gone.” She cocked her head slightly. “I have been welcomed to come to tea.”

  Joanna touched her arm. “You know she does not mean any of this.”

  “Yes, I know. But to hear her speak, I almost think she blames me for the loss. As if I somehow had a hand in it.”

  “That is absurd,” Joanna said. “Her heart is only lashing out, dearest.”

  “Yes.” Olivia sighed. “I know.”

  “Have you spoken to Honoria?” Joanna asked.

  “No, not yet. Constance is arriving any day, John is leaving for some foolishness brought about by the Foreign Office, and I have been in such tumult over the state of Caymore House, I have not had time. I shall make all due haste to speak with her this afternoon.”

  Olivia and Joanna spent nearly two hours keeping each other company, but at three o’clock Joanna left for another appointment.

  After Joanna departed, Olivia thumbed through her upcoming invitations and wrote menus for the next week. By the time she had settled everything with Cook it neared four-thirty. She may as well get the interview with the Foreign Secretary over.

  At Whitehall, Olivia was shown through a myriad of halls, and then to a colorless, windowless room. The man behind the desk barely looked up when she said, “I am Lady Caymore. I believe the Secretary said he could spare me a few moments at half past four.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” He walked over to the private office and knocked. He waited and then knocked again. The door opened.

  “This had better be…” Richard Wellesley took in Olivia standing by the chair. “Your Grace. How delightful to see you. Please, step into my office.” He sidestepped her and spoke to his secretary. The man left the office.

  Wellesley ushered her into another small room, but at least this one had a window. And a view of the Tower of London. He offered her a chair. “To what do I owe the distinct honor of having you here? Surely, this cannot be a social call.”

  Richard Wellesley, Marquess of Wellesley, had been in India for the last two decades, crushing rebellions amidst warring factions, and gaining control of the fledgling Parliamentary government. Some speculated his appointment in 1809 as Foreign Secretary had been brought about by Prince George to hide the shame of Viscount Castlereagh and George Canning’s duel over the post. That had added more fuel to the burgeoning disgust from the people about the state of the British government since King George’s madness had returned. With Wellesley, it was hoped the people would see a proven leader.

  Olivia had met Richard Wellesley, and his brother Arthur, when they were all so very young, when she was a new bride and they were just foot soldiers in His Majesty’s Army. General Arthur Wellesley was now in Portugal fighting the French. However, Olivia had heard the rear guard had lost the siege at Albuera in Spain and that Arthur was going to try again for Madrid. Is that where John was being sent?

  “Wellesley,” Olivia said. “I wonder why, at the height of the holiday season you wish to take Quiggins away? He informs me that he and Dunbury are off on some grand adventure to Spain. What are you doing? What is so important now?” She tried to keep her voice light, as a lady should.

  “Your Grace, please. You must understand I am not at liberty to speak of this to you. Their involvement is merely a formality, strictly a diplomatic endeavor. Rest assured, they are traveling with a battalion of men, and will be extricated swiftly once their portion of the mission is complete. That is all I can tell you.”

  “Or all you will tell me.” Olivia pouted. “Do you truly need to send Quiggins? He is not as young as he once was.”

  Wellesley looked straight into Olivia’s eyes. “John Quiggins is imperative to this operation, Your Grace. He must go.”

  “Then tell me why he is so important.” Her tone held an edge of impatience.

  Wellesley took a breath. “He is a Colonel in His Majesty’s Army and a highly skilled field operative who can speak fifteen languages.”

  “Where are you sending him?”

  “Your Grace, I am not at liberty to…”

  “Where are you sending him?” Olivia demanded.

  “Arthur needs to take Badajoz for the road into Madrid.”

  Olivia sank into a chair. William and his friend Davingdale had almost lost their lives there. “Badajoz has already been tried unsuccessfully three times. How many more men will be killed for an uncertain gain?” Olivia asked. “Surely, even your brother can see there is no use in beating a dead horse. There are several other roads into that blasted city. Can he not take one of those? Without Quiggins?”

  Wellesley leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. “Your Grace, please. You cannot understand the significance of this endeavor.”

  “I beg your pardon.” Olivia rose and looked Wellesley in the eye. “I understand women’s tears when they receive the news their husbands are never coming home. I understand the children who are orphaned. I understand the burden they all must bear. Do not tell me I do not understand the significance of this foolish endeavor.”

  Wellesley cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I promise I shall do my best to keep Quiggins away from any real danger. Now, that is all I will say on the matter.”

  “Mark my words,” Olivia said. “If something happens to him, I shall be very displeased.”

  Wellesley raised a brow. “Why this sudden interest in Quiggins, Your Grace? You did not seem to mind when he was off to France. Are you afraid you will lose your butler?”

  If Olivia had been a man, she would have punched him in the nose. “Quiggins has become an integral part of my household. I
have grown quite fond of the old thing.”

  Wellesley smiled. “Nothing will happen. You are worrying for no reason. Come.” He pushed himself off the desk. “Let me walk you out.”

  Olivia took his arm in the hall, and asked about his wife and their children. She made small talk, all the while brewing inside, wanting to scream.

  Chapter Five

  Olivia pulled the knocker at Olmstead House.

  Bennett, the butler, opened the door. “Your Grace.” He bowed as she walked through.

  Charles Leighton, Fitzhugh’s nephew, met her in the hall. “Olivia.”

  “How are you, darling?” Olivia asked as she brushed his cheek with a quick kiss, and then turned to Bennett with her cape.

  “What are you doing here?” Charles asked and led her into the library.

  “I thought to see Honoria if she’s about.” Olivia stopped just beyond the desk.

  “I’m sorry to say, Olivia, she’s with Penny.”

  “Oh.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of course, Honoria would care for her daughter. Olivia tried to convince herself that moving to St. James was best for Penny, but her heart still ached that Penny had shut her out.

  “Forgive me, Olivia,” Charles said. “Penny has had a rough go of it.”

  “No, there is nothing to forgive.” Olivia sat on the edge of the chair. Never one to beat around the bush, Olivia asked, “Charles, I wonder if you knew how much of an annuity Fitzhugh left me?” She had been thinking about this since John had given her the news about the baby.

  Charles seemed taken aback. “I beg your pardon. Where does this come from? He left you everything, Olivia, you know that. Well, everything that is not tied to the title.”

  “Charles, I have been thinking that if I hadn’t interfered with all Penny’s changes at Caymore, she may not have lost the baby. Therefore, I wish to know if there is enough to purchase a dower house? I plan to leave Caymore to Penny and Will.”