Lady Olivia's Undoing

by Anne Gallagher

  “Oh, no, Your Grace. I will always come home to you.”

  “Thank you, dearest. That is very kind. Now, go. Have your breakfast, and go to your Christmas.”

  “But Your Grace.” Jennings looked at her tickets again. “These say we are to depart from the London docks tomorrow. Tomorrow? I shall miss your ball.”

  “How many have we shared, dearest? One is very much the same as any other. You have a grand adventure waiting for you. Go and enjoy it.” Olivia hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek. “I do not want anymore sad good-byes. I have had far too many of them this last week.” She squeezed Jennings fingers. “Go to your sister’s house and celebrate. Then have fun on your journey. I will be fine.”

  Jennings looked at Olivia, resigned she would not have the last word. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will see you upon my return.” Jennings left the room.

  Olivia hated to lose Jennings now, but Olivia reasoned, if the fates had taken every other person Olivia loved away from her, then she should add Jennings to the list. Now she was truly alone. Besides, Jennings knew her better than anyone, and for all her affection, Olivia didn’t want to disappoint her dearest companion. Societal mores dictated there was something sordid, and unseemly about her situation with John, though in her heart, Olivia cared very little what Society thought. Jennings, on the other hand, Olivia cared very much what she thought. Olivia did not want Jennings to see her falling apart.

  Olivia walked into the water closet, washed and dressed herself and then asked Manning to fetch a hackney cab. In the kitchen, she asked Cook to make her a small picnic luncheon, and then found her coat and hat.

  At St. Anne’s Court, Olivia let herself into the house and moved from room to room, deciding where to begin unpacking her new life. With the decision to move so quickly, Olivia couldn’t think about what was happening. Within a week, her once exceptional life had turned into a half-penny horror story. From the moment John said he was leaving, Olivia knew that one thread would undo the whole of her life’s tapestry. This little house would give her a place to stitch it back together.

  By the end of the morning, Olivia had the kitchen and butler’s pantry well-stocked. She ate her lunch and then moved upstairs to her bedroom. Olivia gathered a few boxes and placed them on bed that was to be used for Jennings. Now that Jennings would not be staying, Olivia would turn that room into her closet.

  The sun had moved into the back garden by the time Olivia stopped and looked at her handiwork. Jennings would be proud of her organizational skills. She wouldn’t need any new gowns for some time. At least until she rejoined Society. But how long would that take? Until after Henry and Catherine married? Until John returned? Until Penny spoke to her again?

  Olivia sank down on the chair in her bedroom. What was to become of her?

  Chapter Twelve

  Upon her return to Caymore House, Manning met her at the door.

  “Your Grace, my mother and I wish to thank you for the fruit basket. That was very thoughtful of you.”

  “It was the least I could do Mr. Manning.” Olivia handed him her coat and gloves. “Have there been any notes today?”

  “Just one, Your Grace. From Lord Westerly.” Manning walked to the hall table, picked it up, and handed it to her.

  Olivia ripped it open.

  Please join us for Christmas dinner. Six o’clock.

  “Oh, dear,” Olivia said. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly six, Your Grace.”

  Olivia looked down at her wrinkled gown and dirty slippers. She would have to change. Quickly.

  “Has Jennings…” Olivia asked, then remembered, she had sent Jennings on a trip. “Tell me, has Nella returned? If so, please send her up to my bedchamber.”

  Olivia ran into the yellow salon to the long table. Luckily, she had not removed her quill and ink. She grabbed a slip of paper and wrote – Do not wait dinner for me. I will join you for dessert.

  She ran into the hall. “Mr. Manning,” she said to his retreating back, “Please have someone bring this to St. James Place directly.”

  Manning took the missive from her and Olivia flew up the stairs.

  In her bedroom, there were only two gowns left hanging in her closet. Black or white. Olivia chose the black.

  Nella arrived and helped Olivia with her toilette and gown, then her hair. By seven, Olivia was downstairs waiting for the carriage. Her nerves jangled like horses in their traces. Had Penny finally forgiven her for whatever slights she had caused? Would they finally be able to become as loving as they once were? Olivia tapped her toe as she waited.

  The carriage arrived and Olivia stepped in. Within minutes, they stopped at St. James Place. The front door opened and Olivia rushed past the footman.

  “May I take your coat, Your Grace?” he asked.

  Olivia shrugged out of it.

  William walked toward her. “Lady O, glad you could come.”

  Olivia kissed his proffered cheek. “I was glad to receive your invitation, William. I’m sorry I’m so late. I was away from home all day and did not receive your note until nearly six.”

  “Well, I’m happy you’re here. Come in and say hello. We are still in the dining room.”

  Olivia walked with William down the short hall, and stepped into the small, but luxurious dining room. Its grey walls and white casings made for a luxurious feel.

  Charles Leighton, Penny’s father, rose from his chair. “Olivia, how do you do?”

  “Charles, Happy Christmas,” Olivia said.

  Olivia leaned down and kissed Honoria, Penny’s mother. “Happy Christmas, darling.”

  “Happy Christmas, Olivia,” Honoria replied.

  Olivia looked at Penny. “Happy Christmas, Penny.”

  “Where were you?” Penny asked. “Attending Christmas at Dunbury Manor? We heard all about your engagement to the Marquess. I’m sure you will take great pleasure in finding titles for the remainder of the Dunbury girls.” Penny stood. Her tone was positively scathing and Olivia took a step back. Had Penny been drinking?

  Olivia glanced at Honoria and then Charles. They both looked as baffled as she felt.

  “Penny,” William said.

  “No!” Penny shouted. “I have waited long enough. I will not be silenced.”

  “What is the matter, dearest? Why are you angry with me?” Olivia dare not move.

  “Angry?” Penny scoffed. “Angry does not even begin to coat the surface. I despise you, Aunt. I never wish to see you again.”

  “Penelope,” Charles stood.

  “No, Father, I wish for her to hear it. I wish for her to know what pain she has caused due to all her machinations, and plots, and intrigues.”

  “Penny, I do not understand…” Olivia began to tremble. “What have I done to deserve such censure, such hatred?” What had she done?

  “You killed my baby!” Penny screamed. “You, with all your devotion to the Caymore title, to the wealth that goes with it. You drove me to near madness with the weight of it bearing down on my unborn son. And that weight crushed him.” Penny picked up a small bowl of carrots and threw it across the room. It smashed into the wall.

  “Penny! Enough!” William shouted. He strode to his wife who stood weeping.

  Olivia felt all the breath leave her body. She grabbed the end of a chair to steady herself. Had she done what Penny accused her of? Had she killed baby Fitzhugh trying to secure the title?

  “Penny, my dearest, I am so sorry. I had no idea that…”

  “Please, Aunt,” Penny said. “Do not say another word. I do not wish to hear your apology or excuses. I never want to see you again.” Penny broke away from William and fled the room.

  Charles handed Olivia a small glass. “Here, drink this.”

  Olivia gulped it down and shuddered.

  “Come now.” Charles led her into the small front parlour. Honoria and William followed.

  Olivia sank into the threadbare sofa. “I never meant for this to happen. I had no idea s
he was under such anxiety over the title.” She looked at William. “Can you ever forgive me? I never meant to hurt you. I only thought to help.”

  William sat beside Olivia and picked up her hand. “Lady O, I never wanted to be the duke. Penny fell in love with who she thought was a lowly steward. She was prepared to give up everything she had in order to marry me. When you thrust Caymore upon us, Penny could not reconcile it. She did not want the responsibility of Caymore. She wished to make her own place, as my wife, the Countess of Westerly. She did not want to be you.”

  “Oh, William. I am so very, very sorry.” Olivia buried her face in her hands.

  William rose. “Excuse me.” He left the room.

  “Oh, no.” Olivia cried. “The ball.”

  “The ball?” Charles asked. “Is that all you can think of, Olivia? Your damned ball? You broke my daughter’s heart.”

  “No, Charles. Tomorrow night, I was going to announce that William and Penny would be moving into Caymore as I have moved out.”

  “Moved out?” Honoria asked.

  “Yes, to allow William and Penny to do as they wish as the new duke and duchess. In the beginning, I explained to Penny all the charities Caymore supports, and I knew it would be a burden for one so young, but I thought she understood it came with the duchy. When they left for Westerly Manor for Penny’s confinement, I thought she would reconcile herself to it. I thought after she brought the baby home, she would feel less insecure.” Olivia sobbed into a napkin.

  “Oh, Olivia.” Honoria patted her hand.

  Olivia blinked at her tears. “Do you think they will ever forgive me?”

  “With time, I hope,” Honoria said.

  There was nothing more to be said. Olivia left Olmstead House and returned to Caymore.

  Greeting her at the door, Manning said, “You are home early, Your Grace. Is anything the matter?”

  “Yes, Mr. Manning, I’m afraid so, but there is nothing I may do about it.”

  Olivia walked to the yellow salon, changed her mind, and went into the morning room instead. She took off her coat and hung it over the back of a chair. She sat at the table and put her head in her hands.

  Manning knocked on the door casing. “Your Grace, I know it is not my place to ask, especially as I have not been in your employ very long, but would you like to talk about it?”

  Olivia gazed at Rodney Manning. “Tell me, Mr. Manning, have you ever done something you thought was essentially the right thing to do, but later found it was oh-so-very wrong?”

  “I presume we are not speaking about mixing up a new batch of silver polish?”

  Olivia waved him to sit. “No, nothing as simple as that.” Olivia then proceeded to tell Manning what she had done to Penny. By the end of her recitation, Olivia’s tears had soaked Manning’s offered handkerchief. “And I do not think she will ever forgive me.”

  Manning looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m so sorry for your troubles, Your Grace, but I’m sure Lady Penny will come around in time. I know how fondly she spoke of you to Lady Violet.”

  Olivia nodded. “That is what her mother said, although, Penny is angry – at me, at God, at her loss. I cannot fathom the depths to which her sorrow has sunk. Her heart is broken, but then, so is mine. I have lost everything I tried so hard to keep. Now Caymore House will sit empty, and I no longer know who I am.”

  Manning said, “Forgive me, Your Grace, but you are the same person you always have been – thoughtful, kind, loving, caring, good, and all that is amiable. Your title does not make you who you are, it is who you are inside.”

  Olivia smiled. “You sound very much like Quiggins.”

  “I shall take that as a compliment, Your Grace.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Manning, do you know Quiggins, truly know him?”

  “We are friends, yes. But I do not think a person can truly know another until he has walked in their shoes.”

  Olivia nodded her head. Could that be why Penny hated her so? Had the short time Penny walked in Olivia’s shoes convince her they did not fit? Was Penny afraid she would end up like her – childless?

  “Your Grace, would you like to cancel the ball?”

  “No, I cannot. There would be a riot in the streets. However, I will tell you now, I am leaving at mid-night when everyone is at supper.”

  “Leaving? I do not understand. Where are you going?”

  “As I thought William and Penny would be pleased to accept Caymore, I found a house to let in Town, and as you might have witnessed, have moved my things already. I will be living there until…” she wanted to say, until John returned, but did not… “Until the situation has rectified itself. However, if anyone should ask, please say that I am traveling. I know this places an undue responsibility on you, Mr. Manning, but I hope that you will stay through Twelfth Night.”

  “Of course, Your Grace. Whatever I may do to help.”

  “That is exceedingly kind of you, Mr. Manning. Did Quiggins put you up to this?”

  “He asked that I keep a watchful eye over you, yes. He was very concerned for you before he left.”

  “He was?” If he had been so concerned, then he should not have gone.

  “Oh, yes. Your Grace. Very worried for you. He knew what an inordinate amount of anguish you have been carrying.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Manning, do you know when he is to return?”

  “Three months he could near figure. He hoped to return by the spring.”

  Spring. She would welcome it gladly. Olivia rose from the table. “Thank you, Mr. Manning. I do feel much better about my situation. You have been a balm for my frazzled nerves.”

  Manning rose. “Entirely my pleasure, Your Grace.”

  Olivia said, “I’m sure I will feel just the thing in the morning and then we will be able to finish the preparations for the ball.”

  “Of course, Your Grace. Good night.”

  “Good night, Mr. Manning.”

  Olivia walked upstairs and took off her gown. She hung it in the armoire and slipped under the covers of her bed. Placing her hand on the other pillow, she prayed John would be safe.

  Tomorrow would be the start of a new chapter in her life – with or without Caymore. Olivia presumed she needed a good night’s sleep to begin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Olivia woke, and did feel better. She had tried to secure the title for William and Penny. They did not seem to want it, but she hoped, in time, Penny would feel the loss of that as well. The Caymore Duchy sat alongside Devonshire, Marlborough, and Norfolk, three of the oldest in the Monarchy, and the most powerful. Penny was too young to understand the privilege the Caymore title warranted, but she would. Her friends would convince her of it, she was sure.

  Climbing from her bed, she rang the bell for Nella, who appeared several minutes later with tea and a small bit of cake.

  “Your Grace,” Nella said upon entering the room. “I do not wish to be so bold, but may I ask, where is Jennings? I have not seen her since yesterday morning.”

  “She is on holiday,” Olivia said. “I thought to give her some time off. By the time she returns, I will have found us a new home.”

  Nella set the tray on the small table. “Shall I run a bath for you?”

  “No, thank you. Tell me, is Mr. Manning about?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, he is in the ballroom arranging the flowers.”

  Olivia smiled. “Very good. Nella, I wonder if I could trouble you to ensure all of my things have been removed from my rooms, including my gowns. I have decided not to wear either of them and will dress at St. Anne’s Court for the ball.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Nella left the room.

  Olivia took a leisurely hour to drink her tea, and eat her breakfast. She sat at the table staring out among the bare tree branches. She would not see the new family of birds building their nest next spring. She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. No, she would not cry again. This part of her life was over, and there was nothing to be
done about it. She would have to make her own way now. She should speak with Charles and see if he had uncovered how much money she had. Yes, she must speak with Charles.

  Olivia dressed in an old calico left behind, and went downstairs. She met Andrew in the hall.

  “Andrew, do find a footman to take a note round to Olmstead House.” She went into the yellow salon. She must remember to have Nella take her writing supplies and correspondence to the new house as well. Olivia penned a quick note to Charles, and sealed it.

  In the hall, the footman waited and she sent him off with the note.

  Olivia went next to the kitchens to see how Cook fared. The place was a whir of industry with hired hands all chopping and stirring and baking.

  “Is everything well down here?” she asked Cook.

  “Oh aye, Your Grace. We are all doing very well.”

  Olivia nodded. One less thing she had to worry about. At least no one could say Olivia stinted on the food at her ball.

  She made her way to the ballroom and found Manning, jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled up, with an apron tied around his middle, sorting through long stemmed roses.

  “Your Grace,” he said as she stepped to the table. “I did not expect to see you so early. How do you do?” His concern touched her.

  “I am very well, Mr. Manning, thank you. How do you do?”

  “Presently I am awash in flowers.” He laughed. “Tell me, Your Grace, have you given a thought as to how you’d like them arranged?”

  Olivia looked at the flowers. She would never be able to afford such luxury at St. Anne’s Court. “Yes, I thought to place twelve stems of one color in the vase, with three or four of the opposite color in the middle of the arrangement.” She picked up a long green frond of fern. “And perhaps allow these to drape from the outside of the vase to the table. Like so.” She demonstrated how she wanted the flowers to look.

  Manning looked at her handiwork. “That is very lovely, Your Grace.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Manning.”

  Andrew approached the table. “Your Grace, the Duke of Olmstead is here.”