Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Immediately after the waltz, Marcus had taken his leave of Olivia to search for his cousin. The arrival of the dazzling marquis of Hastings must have taken Colin by surprise. He did not doubt the attraction Colin felt towards Lady Jocelyn.

The difficulty was that Colin was new to the polite society of the ton and he had met Lady Jocelyn on his first night of the season. He was right to be cautious and take his time. Jocelyn was young and not yet presented at court, and if Colin had declared himself too early, there was potential for Jocelyn to agree to a match and then have second thoughts.

Yet the arrival of the marquis, and his clear agenda of wooing and offering marriage to Lady Jocelyn, changed things considerably. Colin may have to act quickly and declare his intentions to Jocelyn or risk losing her to another.

Being so preoccupied with Colin he did not immediately notice the change in atmosphere in the ballroom. He suddenly became aware that there had been a change, and he had a feeling that the air had become emotionally charged, as if some scandal had been revealed.

Something strange was happening. He didn't mean his private feelings for Olivia. No, this was something else. He noticed as he walked up to Lady Percy and her party that they all stopped talking immediately and looked embarrassed.

As he walked through the ballroom he noticed tabbies of the ton, murmuring behind their fans and avoiding eye contact with him.

This was one of the few times when he wished his mother had been there, as she would have found out what they were talking about.

He stood back in a corner to watch what was happening. He noticed that it went further than him. Olivia seemed unaware, but the same thing was happening as she walked past groups in the ballroom.

Lady Cressida was behaving oddly too. She seemed to be making a point of moving between groups in an almost planned way, staying only a short time to talk before moving to another group.

I shall ask her to dance. That way I might find out what they are talking about.

He made his way across the room, noticing the strange reaction as he approached people. The startled expressions, and the sudden cessation of conversation.

He smiled brightly at Lady Cressida as he joined a group where she held the limelight, talking in confidential undertones.

"She does so well, poor dear. Most of us would retreat to the country if we had the same disfigurement. I do wonder if she has made the right decision, in being part of society and risking ridicule, rather than living quietly and discreetly at home," Marcus heard Lady Cressida saying.

"What do you mean, Lady Cressida?" asked one of the older ladies in the group. "I have seen no sign of anything to blemish Lady Olivia's beauty."

"She is doing a great job at concealing the reality of her situation. She hides it with her hairstyle and perhaps some rouge from Paris," explained Lady Cressida.

This last comment caused shocked glances among the women. They all wore rouge on their cheeks but would never admit it publicly.

And so the tongues tattled. There had been no secret about the Sherwyn's losing their family in the fire at Silverton Hall, but Lady Olivia's Sherwyn's changed appearance was unknown to Marcus, and it appeared had not been common knowledge, but that was changing tonight.

Marcus wondered why Lady Cressida had suddenly turned into a spiteful, malevolent force.

He finally found Colin and alerted him to the scandalmongering taking place before their very eyes. Colin spent some time wandering around, talking to various young ladies and their mamas, and came back to report that the stories were being embellished, and becoming more extreme as the rumor mill ground the gossip.

"Anyone would think that Lady Olivia is purposefully deceiving the ton , rather than simply living with disfigurement," Colin reported back to Marcus.

"There is something very distasteful about the way this is spreading," Marcus declared.

"Lady Cressida had set her cap at you Marcus, and tonight it became evident that your affections were engaged elsewhere. I believe it's green jealousy turned into vicious revenge."

"What do you mean, Colin?"

"Anyone who saw you and Lady Olivia waltzing together must have seen the spark between you. Lady Cressida has seen her hopes of being a duchess dashed, and she is lashing out at Lady Olivia."

Marcus nodded. He suspected Colin had worked out the motivation for the cruel scandal spreading.

"I just heard Lady Connaught telling Viscountess Springford that Lady Olivia Sherwyn has a permanent limp. Anyone with a modicum of sense would know that is utter bunkum. Lady Olivia just danced a waltz at high speed, and showed no sign of disability," said Colin.

"Even if she had that disability, there is no need to be cruel, and make her into a talking point. Shame on Lady Cressida."

"Well, I hope she gets her comeuppance very soon," added Colin. "Oh no, looks like the Sherwyn's may have heard the rumors. There's quite a rumpus developing over there."

Marcus and Colin approached the group, just moments too late to prevent Olivia choking back a sob and leaving the ball. Jocelyn hurried after her. The glint of satisfaction in Lady Cressida's eyes was unmistakable.

Olivia had left the scene, but Lady Cressida continued and this time she told the avid listeners that Lady Sherwyn's fiancé, Sir Jonathan, knew the truth and he'd ended their engagement days after the fire at Silverton Hall. Marcus almost saw spittle flying from her mouth as she continued her venomous words.

"I suspect she may be a little, err, unhinged, shall we say after the accident. Sir Jonathon certainly escaped from their betrothal as soon as he could," Lady Cressida was telling her latest group of listeners.

"I've heard tell that Lady Olivia is penniless now. Some issue with the inheritance arrangements," Lady Cressida continued. "She must be desperate to be here for a season, trying to find some deluded buck to offer marriage." She paused and looked at the faces which were lapping up her every word. "I mean, who would marry a woman with such ugly scars?"

Marcus could bear this no longer, so he took a breath and stepped forward. As he made eye contact with Lady Cressida, he felt a sensation of cold fear at the emptiness in her eyes.

"Your words are at best thoughtless, and at worst designed to hurt and wound another. Everything which you have said about Lady Olivia is in no way admirable. She lives with scars through no fault of her own. She is trying to make a life for herself and live with her own people in her own society. In order to do that she hides the scars with her hairstyle.

What, Madam, is there to laugh about and spread rumors in any of that?" Marcus said, confronting Lady Cressida. "The way you are spreading these rumors is not the behavior which I would ever expect from a lady of the ton. "

Lady Leighton had approached and stood next to Marcus. She placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"I have no wish to make a scandal here and ask you to leave my home. I do however expect you to work hard at refuting the rumors you have spread about my dear friend's character," she told Lady Cressida.

"I don't think any of her friends pay any attention to her scars. Her character and beauty shines out despite any disfigurement," Lady Leighton continued. "However, none of us would want to live with a scarred face, and I applaud her bravery in continuing in society and not retreating to the countryside. She lives every day in courage, and you are the opposite, and in spreading such rumors you are showing your true character."

Lady Cressida stepped back as if she had been struck. Indeed, she has, thought Marcus, struck by the truth.

"I must go and find my friend," Lady Leighton whispered to him.

"No, this is your event and as hostess you need to be here. I saw Lady Jocelyn had followed her. I'll go and see if I can find them."

He met Mrs. Jennings in the hallway, "If you're looking for her ladyship, then she will be in the library. I don't know if she will want to see you, a gentleman or not. Lady Jocelyn is with her."

Mrs. Jennings eyed Marcus with curiosity. "I believe you are genuine in your affection for my lady. I hope that affection helps her deal with this latest cruelty."

He nodded, unsure what to say.

"If you could suggest Miss Jocelyn returns to her coming out ball that would help. People will miss her, and she will only have one coming out ball," Mrs. Jennings asked him.

Marcus knocked gently on the library door. Jocelyn came out into the hall and spoke to him in hushed tones.

"She's very distressed, My Lord. Those words were vicious and cruel. Olivia has been so brave and now the trauma has returned with a vengeance."

"I'll speak with her and try to reassure her if I may," Marcus told her.

He smiled at Lady Jocelyn. "I'm told to tell you that you need to return to your guests and that you only have one coming out ball in life. I believe there are dejected gentlemen waiting to dance with you."

She smiled gently at him. "Very well. Look after my friend." And she returned to the ballroom.

He entered the library quietly. There were only a few candles lit and their shadows flickered on the walls. Otherwise, the room was cloaked in darkness.

It took him a few seconds to locate Olivia standing by a doorway leading to the terrace. He could see that she gazed up at the moon, and she was bathed in the glow of moonlight. He drew in a breath; Olivia was the most hauntingly captivating woman he had ever met.

Hearing him she turned to peer into the darkness. "Jocelyn?" she called gently.

"It's me, Marcus," he replied gently.

"I'd prefer to be on my own, My Lord," she responded.

He took a step forward. "No one should be alone to deal with the hurt which you experienced in the ballroom." He felt the weight of the heavy door pulling it closed behind him.

"What Lady Cressida said was cruel and clearly untrue. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met."

"Oh the words were cruel, but not entirely untrue," Olivia said in a voice which sounded close to tears.

He moved slowly towards her, uncertain what to say but determined to listen.

As he approached her, he held his hands out, hoping she would take and hold them.

She moved towards him, the moonlight illuminating her face in its soft glow. In a single movement she touched her hair and moved it away from her face, then lifted it up above her head in the moonlight. He heard several heavy pins clatter as they fell on the floor.

The scar ran down the side of her face, a raised crimson line from her forehead down to her ear, with skin puckering around it. He wasn't sure, but he thought there was a puckered section of skin moving back into her hairline where she had no hair.

"There, Lord Hatfield, my secret scar." she laughed a hollow laugh. "I live with disfigurement and have accepted my changed appearance. Why should it be necessary, as Lady Cressida seems to think, for me to display my scars to the world?"

He waited for her to continue, hoping she would tell him more.

"They are personal and private. I thought it might be possible to live a life with some semblance of normality by disguising them. My maid, Ellen, dresses my hair and uses ribbons and bonnets to give me confidence to go out into society, without the feeling that I am attracting attention and being talked about incessantly," Olivia confessed.

"Why has she done this to me tonight? On Jocelyn's special day. What have I done to provoke this reaction?" She added.

"I suspect you have done nothing," he said quietly. "Lady Cressida is perhaps jealous."

At this Olivia burst into loud laughter. "A fine lady, with wealth and connections envious of me? Surely not."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "She saw us together. She watched us waltzing."

"But that's ridiculous. It is quite usual for men and women to dance together, even if it is a waltz."

"I believe she sees something more than friendship developing. There is, I believe, a connection between us, and she could see that."

Olivia looked at him and he could see that he was right.

"Can you tell me what happened? Or is it too painful to share?" Marcus asked her gently.

"You have seen my scars. You may as well hear my story."

"I shall listen. However, I have lived through wars and turmoil, and as I have grown older, I know the importance of comfort and care. Please Olivia, and I am going to assume I can call you Olivia and not Lady Olivia while I listen to your very personal and private story. I have heard some of the story from others, but would like to hear from you what actually happened. Please sit and be comfortable."

She made her way to a wingback chair. "You're quite right. I do feel a little fatigued, though far from a fit of the vapors," she added with a hint of a smile.

"I am also going to find a maid, and despite the fact that there is a ball out there and everyone is drinking either wine or iced lemonade I am going to secure us a pot of hot tea."

This time she laughed and agreed.

He returned with a tray of steaming hot tea and placed it on the table between their chairs. "Now that's better. Everyone seems to be dancing and having a good time at the ball. I believe the Viscount has quietly suggested that Lady Cressida and her mother leave the premises."

Olivia leaned forward to pour the tea.

Marcus stopped her. "Absolutely not, Olivia," and the sound of her name felt strange, yet wonderful on his lips. "I'm sure I can manage to pour a cup of tea."

When he'd finished pouring, he said, "Now, my dear Olivia, tell me your story." and he held his breath, waiting for her to continue. He instinctively sensed this was a difficult moment for her, and that Olivia was a woman who coped with whatever life threw at her with quiet dignity.

The fire flickered and he wondered if the sight of a fire caused her anxiety. It didn't seem so, he saw her gazing into the embers of the fire as if trying to decide where to start.

"Three years ago I lived at Silverton Hall with my brother Frederick, Earl of Riversmead, his wife Mary, and of course my niece Jocelyn.

"I was happy. Frederick and Mary were generous people who put love first in our family. There had been a large house party at Christmas, and we were settling back into a quieter routine and looking forward to spring again.

"I was to be married in the early spring. The date was set and preparations underway." Olivia paused and took a sip of tea, before continuing.

"My parents have been dead many years, and although the estate is entailed to the male line, I had a settlement in my name and no financial concerns. I mention this now as it is pertinent to my story.

Then one night it changed. I think a maid forgot to snuff out the candles in the drawing room, and one must have fallen over and set the curtain alight."

"The worst possible place for a candle to fall. I've seen curtains aflame and the fire spreads quickly up the wall," interjected Marcus.

"Yes, and in this case, in an old building, the smoke crept through the floorboards and made it difficult to breathe on the upper floors.

My brother's room was directly above, and it is thought," Olivia paused to compose herself. "It is thought that Frederick and Mary were overcome by smoke and died in their sleep. I hope so. I truly hope that was the case.

"My brother was older than me, but still young and should never have died so soon. Jocelyn lost both her parents that night.

"I had been reading in the library and when I left the room, candle in my hand to go to my bedchamber I saw the smoke coming out under the drawing room door and rising up the staircase to the first floor.

"I can't remember it very well, but I do know that I raised an alarm. The butler, Mr. Jenkins, managed to evacuate the household staff using the backstairs. All escaped to safety.

"By this time the smoke was thick on the first floor, and I could see the first tongues of orange flame on the landing.

"I didn't think. I knew my family were up there. I made my way up the backstairs, a scarf around my mouth. Somehow, I managed to wake Jocelyn and open the sash window and help her down to the roof of the stone porch, directly under her bedroom window. The household servants helped her down to safety."

"I cannot imagine it," Marcus whispered.

"It seems I turned around and went back to try to save my brother and his wife, and also our nanny who still slept in her rooms in the attic. The beams in the ceiling were on fire and the air was so hot it was almost impossible to breathe.

"There was no way I could get to them and the route down the stairs was blocked too. I do remember looking up and seeing a beam falling to the floor. No, it didn't hit me, or I would not be here today. However, it splintered as it fell, and some hot wood flew upwards and caught my face and set my clothes on fire."

Marcus gasped as she said this, amazed at the bravery Olivia had shown in putting her own life in danger.

Olivia continued her story. "I managed to get back to Jocelyn's' room and knew to roll on the floor to extinguish the flames on my clothes. My father had taught me about fire when I was a small child.

"One of the gardeners had climbed onto the stone portico below the window of Jocelyn's room and climbed up the ivy and wisteria to Jocelyn's window. He found me and rescued me.

That's it really. I'm as you see. My brother Frederick, my dearest sister-in-law, and friend, Mary and the nanny all perished," finished Olivia.

"And the house?" asked Marcus.

"Oh, there was significant damage to that part of the house, but the other two wings were untouched. Uncle Harold tells us we can visit again when renovations are completed in the spring. I suppose I both dread and long to return to my childhood home."

He looked at this young woman in stunned admiration at her courage and bravery. There had been no concern for her own safety or wellbeing as she tried in vain to rescue her family.

There was something else though. She had been engaged. He remembered hearing Lady Cressida talking about Olivia's fiancé and how he had ended their betrothal.

"I believe there's more, Olivia. Will you tell me what heartbreak followed in the days after the fire?" he asked tenderly.

She looked at him and he noticed how she pushed her hands through her hair. He'd noticed the same thing that first day in the forest glade.

"Ah, my engagement to Sir Jonathon Ellington. My attention was focused on Jocelyn, who, though unharmed by the fire, had the emotional scars of losing her parents. The funeral was on a bitterly cold day in the middle of January. We could see our breath before us in the frost chilled air. Our tears were for their loss of future and our knowledge that we would miss them so desperately.

"I thought it strange that Sir Jonathan did not come to stand with me at the graveside. Our wedding was mere weeks away, and I missed his support. He was there, but at the back of the group of mourners with his parents.

He came to see me that evening. I don't know and still don't know how much was due to my injuries. He told me, however," and she paused to draw breath, "he explained that my Uncle Harold, who was now earl after the death of my brother, being the only male heir to the estate, had told him that I was penniless."

Olivia looked at Marcus, and he thought she seemed more confident now they had moved away from the deaths in the fire.

"It's all somewhat complicated, but it seems I did not have the fortune which my father had put into trust for me.

"So, it's all a little mundane. My fiancé said he loved me, but needed to marry for money, to shore up his family finances. His mother had suggested he tell me this on the day of the funerals, so I could have all the sadness on the same day—get it out of the way—were the words he used."

Marcus wanted to say something supportive, but was lost for words and could only nod as he listened.

"That is perhaps the only part of my story that I feel could have been different, or handled more sensitively."

Marcus reached forward and took her hand in his. "Thank you for trusting me enough to share this story," he told her. "It means more than you could know that you told me."

He wanted to keep holding her hand, but knew it wasn't seemly and instead he raised it to his lips, kissed the top of her hand and let it go.

To avoid any embarrassment, he focused on pouring, and handing her, a second cup of tea.

"I can only say again that what you did that night was heroic. Many would not have attempted to try to save others in the face of a raging fire. It's a wonder that you weren't killed yourself.

"Why on earth does Lady Cressida think there is anything scandalous, or even worthy of gossip in this tragic story? If anything, you are a heroine in society."

"Thank you for those kind words, and I agree, it makes no sense," replied Olivia.

Marcus lost himself in a strong rage towards the man who had left this beautiful, brave, amazing woman, in her hour of need. Was it the scarring or the money? He struggled to comprehend how any man would have broken off an engagement because of a scar. The only ugliness here was in the actions of a despicable fiancé, who had in effect abandoned her.

He held out his hand to help Olivia to her feet. She looked so vulnerable, but he knew now that this woman was as brave as the soldiers he had seen on battlefields on the continent.

He took a step forward and without a word he drew Olivia into his embrace, holding her close, and wishing he could take some of the hurt away. He would do all he could to protect and comfort her in the days ahead. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he inhaled the fragrance of rosa damascena in her hair.

When she finally stepped back, he looked at her with gentle eyes.

"I don't know quite how we got here, or where we are going to, my dear Lady Olivia Sherwyn? I do know that there is a connection between us, and we should explore that and find out more."

She looked at him, a half-smile on her lips, saying nothing.

"I know that you have haunted my thoughts since that first day in the forest, and now I don't want to let you out of my sight. It's a curious feeling," Marcus confided.

She took his hand in hers and held it for a second, and he felt his nerves firing and sparks moving throughout his body.

"Now, Cendrillon, let me escort you back to the ball and claim another dance. Let's give those tabbies of the ton something to talk about."

Olivia laughed and his heart lifted at the sound. "I believe I do have my very own Prince Charming this evening," she said.

***

As they left the library, and crossed the hall, going back toward the music and dancing, neither noticed the figure in the shadows.

She stepped even further back into the shelter of a tall pillar, as they passed close by her. White hot, seething rage filled her. She had been humiliated first by Lord Marcus Hatfield, and then Viscountess Marianne Leighton in the ballroom, and at some time in the future both would pay a price for that.

Despite her grandmother's ancient magic, the romance between these two seemed to have strengthened. Lord Hatfield leaned close to Lady Olivia, and he brushed a lock of hair across her face, then rearranged her hair, pulling it forward, so any trace of the scars in her hairline were hidden.

This should not be happening. He should have been in her arms now, out on the terrace, gazing at the stars and the moon.