Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

O ver the course of the next several days, Olivia did her best to avoid Lord Frontershire during the morning, afternoon, and evening activities. At night, when she lay alone in her bed, thoughts of her encounter with him in the library drifted into her head, and she whispered his name… John …but she felt that could not be helped. He was the first man who had ever kissed her…touched her…and she was sure she would not forget what happened between them for as long as she should live.

Thankfully, the Dowager Countess of Langford kept her guests busy during the daylight hours. There was one activity right after the other. Whether it was games on the lawn, tea with the other ladies, or playing cards after supper, Olivia was grateful to have her mind and body preoccupied.

On her final evening in the countryside, while preparing for a ball, Lady Olivia sat on a stool in her friend Edith's room, fussing with her opera-length gloves and wondering what happened to the pair she had packed, especially for occasions such as these.

"I wonder what happened to them," she mused. "I know I had them earlier in the week, but…" Olivia allowed her words to trail away when she saw a dreamy look cross Edith's face, and she got the distinct impression that her friend was not listening to her. "Edith?" Olivia ventured. "Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Edith echoed in a distracted, breezy voice. "Of course not."

"Then why do you look so…so…" Olivia could not put her finger on what she thought Edith's expression represented. They had only been friends for the length of a week, and she should not guess what was on Edith's mind.

"Enchanted?" Edith supplied helpfully. Her lady's maid stood behind her, gently curling her hair, but Edith swiveled slightly on her poof seat so she could look directly at Olivia. "Is that what you believe you are seeing?"

"I suppose so," Olivia murmured, "But does that mean you are enchanted?" She paused as a realization hit her. "Do you mean to say that you have found yourself a beau?"

Edith nodded giddily. "His name is Lord Becksford and I have…"

"Lord Becksford?" Olivia interjected. "But I have not seen the two of you together since…"

"Since the piano recital on Tuesday night," Edith finished for her. "We sat next to each other as you may recall. And once the performance reached its conclusion, he offered to fetch me some refreshment. From there, our conversation grew and broadened and…" She stopped talking as her cheeks flushed, showcasing her pleasure. "I simply cannot believe my good fortune in securing his good opinion."

Olivia gasped. "Then your feelings for the viscount are reciprocated? The love you feel…he feels it too?"

She nodded gleefully. "He said as much just last night when he asked me to be his wife." Her smile stretched even wider. "Lord Becksford said once the week is over, he shall make the arrangement between us official. We shall be married!"

Elated to hear such good news, Olivia jumped to her feet and clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Oh, this is wonderful!" She surged forward and hugged her friend. "You deserve happiness, dear Edith, and I am so glad you made your match."

Several minutes later, after sharing more bits and pieces of bubbly conversation, the ladies strode from Edith's bedchambers and headed down the hall. As they reached the staircase, Edith paused and sucked in a deep inhalation.

"What?" Olivia asked as a flurry of terrible things floated through her mind. She was not sure what could have made her companion stop and stare in such a manner, but her immediate reaction was concerning.

"Look." Edith jutted her chin, and Olivia followed her line of sight. There, she spotted Lady Abigail. She was just reaching the landing, and as she stepped firmly onto the marble floors, she paused and twisted her neck slowly from side to side, evidently searching for someone to escort her into the ballroom.

"I do not understand," Olivia said slowly as she reached out and looped her arm through her friend's. "Why are you so distraught?"

"You do not see it?"

Olivia squinted down the long staircase at Lady Abigail, but she did not see anything amiss. The lady looked just as proud as always. Tonight, just like all the other ladies, she was dressed in an exquisite gown, made of the finest silk fabric, but Olivia could not detect anything unusual about her appearance.

"See what?" she ventured.

"Look at her," Edith urged. "The two of you are dressed almost identically."

Olivia glanced downward at her own gown first before lifting her eyes to evaluate Lady Abigail's attire once more. And it was then that she saw just how right her friend was to spot the similarities. Olivia had elected to wear an icy blue silk gown. Her mother ordered the village seamstress to make it specially for an event such as this one, and this was her first time donning the dress. With this ensemble, she had foregone the layers of lace she normally had sewn in around her collar or trimming the sleeves and hemlines of her frock. Because the fabric was so lovely, she did not think it needed many embellishments. And it seemed Lady Abigail had just the same idea. The fabric of her gown was nearly the same exact color and cut as Olivia's.

A laugh sat on the tip of Olivia's tongue, and she might have indulged in a bit of giggling over the matter with her friend had she not been watching Lady Abigail so closely and noticed, when she turned her head to the side, the way her hair was styled.

"Ah!" Olivia was astonished. "But she has copied my hairstyle too."

Edith snorted. "There is no understanding Lady Abigail and her strange ways. Just a week ago, she was pointing out how much she disliked your hair and now…"

"Now, she is seeking to emulate me." Olivia paused and allowed herself to take a deep breath. "But I suppose I should be flattered. I remember a time when my dear papa said mimicry is how some people show their approval."

Edith laughed lightly. "Do you think this means Lady Abigail approves of you now?"

Olivia shrugged. "I think this means Lady Abigail and I can tolerate one another well enough. We can both wear similar styles and not run the risk of challenging one another."

"So, you will not say anything to her this evening?" Edith questioned. "You will not ask why she suddenly changed her style to mirror your own?"

"I will let her be," Olivia determined. "For she and her dress are no concern of mine."

With a smile of satisfaction on her face, Olivia traipsed down the staircase. She felt lighter, happier now that matters with Lady Abigail were not so fraught with tension, and it brought her great joy to think of attending the ball.

She waited with her friend and their respective parents so that they might be announced properly by a footman, but once that was done, Olivia was free to mingle with the other guests at the ball. Edith drifted away from her rather quickly, the first two dances on her card being claimed almost at once by her paramour, Lord Becksford. So, Olivia continued making a circuit around the ballroom, eyeing the other ladies and gentlemen, secretly admiring the gorgeous gowns and appreciating the way the men had worn their very best attire as well.

When she reached the end of the room in the corner where the musicians were playing, she turned and nearly smacked right into Lord Ridgewell.

"Oh, forgive me," she said as she backed up a pace.

"No, it is me who is to blame," he apologized profusely. "I was wanting to speak with you, Lady Olivia, to ask if you might consent to stand up with me during the next dance, but I clumsily followed you through the throng and well…"

"Do not be embarrassed, my lord," Olivia said, giving him a smile that was meant to comfort his perturbed nerves. "I have been weaving my way in and out of the dancers, and I imagine if you were following me, I made the task daunting."

"Yes." He smiled genially at her. "But I am glad to be by your side now." His bright eyes twinkled in the glowing candlelight. "And will you do me the honor of being my dance partner?"

"But of course."

When Lord Ridgewell offered Olivia his hand, she placed her gloved fingertips in his and waited for something, anything to happen, but she felt not a single tingle or spark. There simply were no feelings, other than friendship, for Lord Ridgewell, and even the romantic atmosphere was not enough to spur any great change in her sentiments.

She allowed her friend to lead her onto the dance floor, and as they joined the reel and fell into step with the other dancers, they chatted amiably with one another. Olivia laughed happily as they spun and twirled, and when the dance concluded, she was pleasantly fatigued. After bowing to Lord Ridgewell, she made to weave her way off the dance floor, but he reached for her hand.

"Please," he said softly, "stay and dance another with me." She consented as the musicians struck up a new song, this one better suited to waltzing than jigging, and Olivia settled herself easily into Lord Ridgewell's arms.

They sashayed and spun, circling around the other members of the ton, and Olivia did her best to focus all her attention on her partner. When they were prancing before, it had been easy to look at only him and those nearest because she needed to pay attention to her companions and engage appropriately with them as the steps required. But now that it was just the two of them, herself and her partner, Olivia's eyes and thoughts were tempted to wander. She schooled herself to be polite, and when she met Lord Ridgewell's gaze, she saw that he was staring at her as if fascinated.

Can he possibly guess what I was just thinking? Does he know that I long to look elsewhere?

She meant to ask what was on his mind, but he opened his mouth to speak first, and she ceded to him.

"I have done a great deal of thinking this week, Lady Olivia," he began, and she chuckled.

"Really? It seems to me that all our days and evenings have been so occupied with activities that none of us have hardly had time to think."

His smile went lop-sided in a rather adorable way. "I may have spent my days pleasantly active, but I reserved the hour just before I retired so that I might review all that occurred earlier."

A heated blush crept up the back of Olivia's neck. She knew what she had been thinking of before turning in each night, and it was embarrassing to think of someone else lying in bed, having thoughts that might even be remotely like her own.

"Oh?" she murmured, simply to keep the flow of the conversation moving.

"I am certain that the two of us have forged a bond this week, Lady Olivia, and before I go to bed tonight, I should like it if we settled the matter between us."

"Uh…" She hesitated. "Is there a matter between us?" She itched to pull her gloved-tipped fingers from his hand but remained as she was to avoid causing a scene.

"I have decided that on Sunday morning, after leaving this residence, I shall ride straight to see your cousin, Lord Tottingham, and…"

Olivia's heart leapt into her throat. She found it difficult to speak, but she managed to squeak, "Why? Why should you go to Tottingham House in London?"

"I must speak to your cousin, so I can ask his blessing." He paused, and his smile became more self-assured. "I should like you to be my bride, but we must do things properly first, I think."

"I…is this a proposal then?" She was confounded. While she waited to hear his response, Olivia reviewed the course of events that had transpired this week in her head, quickly cataloging all that had been done and said betwixt herself and Lord Ridgewell, but she could not account for an offer of marriage. There had been not one instant when they had shown each other any kind of particular regard and yet…

"I thought you might be reticent to discuss matters between us in this crowded ballroom," Lord Ridgewell said as he tightened his grip on her hand. "But you need not be afraid of showing emotion, Lady Olivia. I find your gentle manners and contradictory fiery temperament invigorating. I have yet to encounter another who behaves so paradoxically, and so…I find myself intrigued by you." His smile became quite sweet. "I look forward to spending long afternoons with you, debating pieces of literature and…"

"Excuse me," Olivia said as she disentangled her hand from his hold and backed away from him swiftly. "I must…I must…" She could not think of one solid reason to leave him standing there, midway through such a speech.

In her heart, as well as her head, she heard the way Edith had spoken of her feelings for Lord Becksford, and she knew her own feelings for Lord Ridgewell were nowhere near what they ought to be. She did not love him and was quite certain she might never be so inspired by his placid nature to change her feelings. But she knew not how to disengage herself from the conversation.

Blessedly, as she took another step backward, reeling away from him, she bumped into a footman.

"Beg your pardon," she said, averting her gaze and staring at her own slippers. "I… I did not see you standing there."

"The fault is mine, my lady," the footman replied. She glanced up to see the man still standing before her, and when her eyes met his, he continued, "I moved in this direction right now to carry a message to you from your mother. She begged me to find you immediately and implore you to meet her in the library at once."

"Mama? She is in the library?" Olivia was bewildered. "Is anything the matter?"

The footman shook his head. "I am not privy to such details, my lady, but she requested that you join her at your earliest convenience."

Slightly alarmed, Olivia gathered her skirts and bustled from the ballroom. She did not take her leave of Lord Ridgewell but instead raced to the library, hoping to find her mama safe and well.