by Julia Parks
She finished her meal and began to strip off the round gown she wore. Looking in the mirror, she gave a sigh of satisfaction. She was only five-and-twenty, but she could still pass as a miss in her first Season. Not that she was worried about pleasing the gentlemen. Even if she never married, she had her good works to keep her busy and happy.
On the wall behind the cheval glass, her mother’s small portrait smiled at her. Her mother had been quite a philanthropist in her own right. She had come from wealthy stock and had left Olivia a small fortune. The rest of Olivia’s vast fortune had come from her father, the Earl of Carstairs, whom she barely remembered.
When Olivia had been younger and seriously looking for a husband, her aunt’s words of caution had constantly rung in her ears. She had been careful not to become attached to a fortune hunter, but now she had no one, and she had become accustomed to her unmarried state.
What was more, the gentlemen had come to accept it, too. Last Season, she had received only two offers of marriage—both acceptable, but both rejected. She had decided to settle for nothing less than love, and if that meant spending her life unwed, then so be it.
Her aunt’s maid entered the room and pulled the emerald-green silk gown from the wardrobe. Olivia stepped into it and stood patiently as the servant expertly pinned and taped it into place.
“Will you be wearing the Cunningham emeralds or the single pendant, my lady?”
“I think the Cunningham emeralds are in order if I am to impress Mr. Pendleton tonight. And the matching tiara, too.”
“Very good, my lady.”
Finally, the maid pronounced her masterpiece complete and stepped back to allow Olivia a look at her blonde hair. It was piled on top of her head, lending her height. On top of the cluster of curls was the emerald-and-diamond tiara, winking at her in the candlelight.
“You have outdone yourself, Jinks.”
‘Thank you, my lady.”
“Would you mind running upstairs and checking on Pansy for me? I hate to leave without first inquiring about her progress.”
“Very good, my lady.”
A moment later, the maid returned and informed Olivia that her abigail was sleeping peacefully. Olivia made her way down the stairs to the drawing room where her aunt waited for her, talking quietly with Olivia’s friend, Lord Hardcastle. Tony rose and bowed when she entered the room. Olivia found the look of admiration on his face very gratifying, especially because he was in love with the simpering Miss Featherstone.
“I am a lucky fellow, escorting two such beautiful creatures to the ball this evening. Your aunt has just been telling me about your maid. I do hope she makes a full recovery.”
“I am hopeful, too, but tomorrow will tell, I think. Meanwhile, one of the other maids has promised to keep vigil tonight and to send for me if there is a need.”
“If I had to live my life as a servant, Olivia, I think I would not mind being one of yours. You treat them much better than the average employer,” said Tony.
Olivia said, “But I am not just their employer. We are not friends, precisely, but they know they can depend on me just as I depend on them. My mother taught me to always remember the Golden Rule when it came to my servants.”
“A wise woman, your mother,” said her aunt.
“Now, shall we go? I do not want to miss out on a minute of the card room activities. The Grants always have the best card rooms for their balls. I think Lord Grant would operate his own club if his wife would countenance such a scheme.”
“I understand he did operate such a place for a short time,” said Tony.
“A gambling hell?” said Aunt Amy with a delicious shiver.
“Not a hell, but a very lively place. I visited it once and nearly lost my entire inheritance.”
“Oh, Tony, now you are teasing Aunt Amy, and it is very bad of you.”
He crossed his heart. “’Struth, Miss Hepplewhite. ‘Pon my honour.”
Olivia laughed. “Now I know he is making up tales. He always speaks in one-syllable words when he is attempting to pull the wool over your eyes.”
“I must protest!” he exclaimed, ushering them out the front door.
Their short journey to the Grants’ town house was filled with lively conversation. Olivia laughed until her sides hurt, and she was gasping for air by the time they pulled up to the house.
Inside, they greeted their host and hostess and then entered the large ballroom. The colourful gowns swirled, contrasting perfectly with the gentlemen’s dark coats. Jewels twinkled in the candlelight as if keeping time with the musicians’ instruments.
Olivia smiled, her blue eyes dancing in delight.
It was a perfect picture of the elite of English society, and as always, she was thrilled to be a part of it.
Tony excused himself, and Olivia’s aunt leaned close and whispered, “Exactly why is it you rejected Lord Hardcastle’s suit? He is one of the most handsome and charming men in all of London. If I were twenty years younger…”
“He is all that and more, but he is one of my oldest friends—more like a brother than a suitor. And you would have me wed him? I think not.”
Aunt Amy sighed. “I suppose not, but time is passing, my dear girl. I cannot help but wonder, when?”
“When I am ready. Or never. At the moment, there is no one who could make me want to change the current state of my life. Now, we are here to enjoy ourselves. There is Lady Fairfax, craning her neck to gain your attention. You must join her before she falls out of her chair,” said Olivia with a giggle.
“Wretched child,” replied her aunt.
“Wretched, indeed!” exclaimed a dapper gentleman, coming to beg a dance. “Your aunt’s eyesight must be failing. There is nothing wretched about you this evening.”
“Just the fond rambling of a dear relative. How are you, Mr. Thomas? And your mother? I was sorry to hear she was ailing again.”
“She is much improved. As for me, I am splendid now that I have found you before the rest of your admirers. Would you do me the honour of the next dance?”
“With pleasure.”
“Wonderful. We can chat until it is time. Oh, look, there is my cousin, Sir Richard. Have you had the chance to meet him? He has only recently sold out his commission in the army and returned to us. A capital fellow. Quite the hero, he is.”
“We haven’t been formally introduced, but I have had the pleasure of his company,” said Olivia.
A little shiver ran up her spine as they approached the usually unapproachable cluster of elegants.
“Good evening, cousin. Lady Olivia, may I present my cousin, Sir Richard Adair? Richard, this is Lady Olivia Cunningham.”
Sir Richard made a leg. “Lady Olivia and I have met, after a fashion. I hope you and your aunt are none the worse for Miss Featherstone’s unfortunate incident last night.”
“We are fine, and so is Miss Featherstone, thank you. You were most helpful.” She could not prevent emphasizing the word you while glancing at his handsome friend, the debonair Lord Sheridan.
The marquess actually smiled, and Olivia felt the blood rush to her face. He had understood her sarcasm perfectly.
“I did very little, really,” protested Sir Richard. “Your Miss Featherstone is very lucky to have such steadfast friends as you and your charming aunt.”
“But Miss Featherstone is a charming young lady,” replied Olivia, ignoring the warmth in his eyes.
“But l am being rude,” said Mr. Thomas. “I should introduce you to Sheri here. This is Lord Sheridan, perhaps you have met.”
At the same instant, Olivia and Lord Sheridan said, “We have.”
Olivia, realizing her tone had been less than cordial, smiled at the marquess and added, “That is, we have run into each other a time or two.”
“Oh, ye
s, at the ball a few nights ago. Quite so,” said Sir Richard.
“Quite so,” replied Lord Sheridan, his gaze somewhere over the top of Olivia’s head.
Olivia wanted to stamp her foot, but she fixed her smile on her face and glanced back at the dance floor, remarking, “Isn’t this a pretty setting for a ball?”
“Very pretty,” said Mr. Thomas.
“Candlelight, paint, a floor. A typical ballroom, surely,” said Lord Sheridan, his dark eyes challenging hers.
“But quite spacious, and the music is…”
“Music,” he added, fixing his gaze on hers.
She continued to smile and looked away. Not by so much as a heaving bosom did she let him know that he had nettled her.
“Ah, time for the next set. If you will excuse us?” said Mr. Thomas, offering Olivia his arm.
“Only if I may have the pleasure of the next dance with you, Lady Olivia,” said Sir Richard.
“I would enjoy that immensely,” she replied, taking Mr. Thomas’s arm and walking away.
“What a perfect ninny,” said Lord Sheridan, just loudly enough for her to hear.
Olivia ignored it and him. If he had taken her in dislike for some reason, there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, why should she wish to change the opinion of such an odious man?
Then she was in Mr. Thomas’s arms, waltzing around the floor without a care in the world. When the music ended, she was glad to see Sir Richard approaching her, away from the piercing eyes of Lord Sheridan.
“What a wonderful night,” he said, when the country-dance brought them together.
‘Then you must not be as cynical as your friend, Lord Sheridan,” said Olivia.
Bending close to her ear, he said, “No one is as cynical as my friend, Sheri.”
“What is it that makes him so…”
“Surly?”
They separated, and Olivia hoped that he would pick up their conversation where they had left off. She was not disappointed.
“Sheri can’t help it. He has lost his ability to see the best in others. His vision is too clear cut.”
She chuckled and asked, “Must one have blinders on to enjoy living?”
“Most definitely. Either that, or one must dance with a beautiful lady at least once every single day. Myself, now, I don’t need those blinders at all.”
This was said with a speaking glance that made Olivia giggle.
When they next came together, he had put on a long face and moaned, “You doubt my words?”
“I think your words are delightful nonsense, and I am very entertained but not taken in, Sir Richard.”
He clasped his hand to his breast and said, “You wound me, good lady.” She made a face, and he added dramatically, “Never fear. I shall come about. I shall simply work harder to persuade you of my sincerity.”
“A labour of impossibility,” she said.
“A labour of love,” he whispered with a wink.
She laughed, her heart light and cheery. Glancing about her, she saw the Marquess of Sheridan greeting his friend, Lady Thorpe. There was that flash of a smile again—the type of smile that could make a lady forget how maddening the man could be. She wondered if the widowed Lady Thorpe and Lord Sheridan were… Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat that this thought brought with it.
“They are only friends,” said Sir Richard, claiming her hand once again and reading her mind perfectly.
“I…I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“Sheri and Maddie grew up together. They are only friends.”
Her nose in the air, she said, “I am certain it is no concern of mine. That is, I did wonder. Lord Sheridan is so very unhappy, I thought perhaps he and Lady Thorpe...”
“No hope for that. What about me? I grew up with them, too. Are you not worried that Lady Thorpe and I…”
“I assure you, Sir Richard, I have not thought of it at all, much less worried about it.”
The music stopped, and she took his arm.
His expression woebegone, he heaved a sigh and said, ‘Just my luck.”
“What is, sir?”
“That you have not given me any thought at all. Ah well, perhaps someday…”
“You are being absurd, Sir Richard.”
“I do try, my lady. I really do try.” He grinned and handed her to her next partner.
Olivia passed from one partner to the next, engaging in perfectly amenable conversation. This was what she was bred for, what she revelled in. The occasional glance at the disagreeable marquess did nothing to lower her spirits as she danced and laughed.
The supper dance was announced, and Olivia realized she had forgotten her original reason for attending the ball that evening—to persuade Mr. Pendleton to part with some of his money for the new school. She had watched him enter the ballroom and then detour to the card room, but that was the last she had seen of him.
Supper was announced, and she found herself on Tony’s arm. Miss Featherstone had not felt up to attending, so Tony was very happy to escort Olivia to supper.
“Have you seen Mr. Pendleton?” she whispered.
“Not at all. Wait a minute. Isn’t that the old miser over there, coming out of the card room with your aunt on his arm?”
“So it is,” said Olivia, giving a little wave to her aunt, who towed the wealthy old man toward them.
“Good evening, Mr. Pendleton,” said Olivia. “Have you met Lord Hardcastle?”
“No, no reason to have met the boy, is there? How d’you do, my lord?”
“Very well, thank you, sir. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
They strolled into the dining hall and began to fill their plates at the buffet.
When they were finally seated, Mr. Pendleton said, “I see you have enlisted your aunt’s help in this latest bid for my fortune, young lady.”
“Bid for your fortune?” said Olivia, nearly choking on her asparagus.
“Do not play the simpleton with me, my girl. Your aunt did her best to do me out of my fortune in the card room. I finally had to make her my partner to prevent her from lining her pockets with my gold. And then she told me she wanted me to help build that orphanage for you.”
“A school for orphans and other poor children. A place where they could become good citizens, sir, and contribute to the good of society.”
“A pretty speech, but why should I care what becomes of a group of unruly urchins?” The toothy old man watched her like a cat playing with a mouse.
“I would be happy to show you why, sir. You are welcome to accompany me to the school where the children now live and learn. You will see what a difference it has made to all of them.”
He cackled at this and shook his head. “Heaven forefend, Lady Olivia! I will give you the money you request, if only to prevent you from dragging me anywhere to witness your good works.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pendleton. And should you change your mind and ever wish to see…” He shook his head decisively, and Olivia retreated with her victory intact. “Very well, then I will simply say thank you.”
They were soon joined by several other couples, and the conversation became general. Olivia was having a delightful evening, and only occasionally thought of her sick maid at home or the dour Lord Sheridan.
When she chanced to look around, she could tell that he and his friends were also having a merry time. Their conversation seemed to consist of one person speaking in an undertone and the rest of their company erupting into laughter. The next time, another of their group would speak, and the same thing occurred.
To Olivia, their behaviour bordered on the rude.
She watched surreptitiously as their host, Lord Grant, strolled by and paused to chat with them. He was smiling as he w
alked away, and Olivia chided herself for being so judgmental.
Tapping her arm, Mr. Pendleton asked quietly, “Why are you so interested in that group over there, Lady Olivia?”
“I am sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You weren’t.” Nodding toward Lord Sheridan’s group, he said, “They call themselves the misanthropists, you know. They take their pleasure in disparaging others. They find society lacking, but unlike you, they do nothing to remedy its ills.”
“I…I had heard the term, but I wasn’t quite certain why they were called that.”
“Just a bunch of unhappy people, if you ask me. I may not be a jolly sort of chap, but I don’t dislike my fellow man. I just prefer my own company most of the time.”
Olivia turned her smile on him and said, “We are glad you chose to join us this evening, Mr. Pendleton.”
“Because of my money?”
“No, because we—my aunt and I—like your company.”
He sat back and fairly beamed at this. Olivia felt a twinge of shame. She did like Mr. Pendleton, but would she have liked him so well if he had been poor? What if he had turned down her request? How hypocritical of her to vilify Lord Sheridan and his friends when she was no better. She must try to be more tolerant.
“Olivia, Mr. Pendleton has suggested a ride into the countryside tomorrow afternoon, to Richmond, if the weather holds fine,” said her aunt. “A marvellous idea! Shall we make it a picnic?
“If that is what you ladies want, why not?” said the old man, giving them all a view of his toothy smile. “Shall we say eleven o’clock? Or is that too early for you young people?”
“Not at all, sir,” said Tony. “Might I bring Miss Featherstone? I have an, uh, appointment in the morning at her house.”
“Ah, sits the wind in that corner? Then, of course, you must bring Miss Featherstone. And you, Lady Olivia, will you be bringing a beau?”
“No, I have no one to bring,” said Olivia.
Glancing over her shoulder, she met Lord Sheridan’s sardonic gaze. With a slight nod, he turned back to Lady Thorpe and made a comment. The entire group glanced at Olivia and laughed.
