Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Olivia's head was in a whirl, thoughts and feelings waltzing around her mind in circles. Was this real or had some of it been a dream?

The despair she felt when she heard the gossip circulating around the ballroom. When she had run out of the room she had been determined to hide away and never return to society again. However, within an hour, her horizons had changed again.

Lord Hatfield, Marcus, had listened so intently to her story. Others had said similar things to her in the past, but somehow hearing him say the words had a profound impact.

Had he really held her close and told her that she was beautiful? He clearly remembered that day in the woodland glade, and she'd believed him when he told her that she had haunted his thoughts since that day .

We danced, we waltzed, and I know he wants to see me again soon. He makes me laugh too. That's so important in life. I'm not sure Jonathan ever made me laugh about anything. How strange to think of that now?

The sheets felt cool against her skin as she climbed into bed in her room at Maybury Crescent.

I'm exhausted, she thought, snuggling down under the comforter, glad of the hot brick which warmed the bed.

I feel lighter too, as though a heavy weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I've been carrying a weight around since the fire, never relaxing and always feeling anxious. Uncle Harold hasn't helped. He seemed so kind tonight, but that was unusual.

Olivia pulled the eiderdown around her, feeling warm and cozy, and ready for sleep. It was almost six o'clock, and in a few hours, she would be rising again. She would spend the day with her friend and Jocelyn, and not see Uncle Harold again till the next day.

She fell asleep. No dreams. Only a refreshing, reviving, deep sleep.

***

Dear Journal,

Today I woke with a sense of excitement and realized that it was optimism for the future. Something changed yesterday. I thought there was no hope of love, marriage, or ever having a child of my own. I thought I would be happy to be a maiden aunt to Jocelyn and Marianne's children, but I do want that chance of a family of my own.

I thought it would happen with Jonathan, but he left me. I know now that yes, he did abandon me when I needed him most.

Last night Marcus, (can I call him Marcus now?) showed me such care and consideration when he listened. He looked at me with those gentle, brown eyes and I knew he cared.

I'm not speaking of love. I hardly dare hope for love. No, what I mean is that when he looked at me, scars and all, he did not flinch away. I believed him when he said that he didn't notice the disfigurement.

Where will this go? I don't know and can't predict. I am going to take each day at a time, each moment at a time. But the difference is that I have hope in the future.

Until next time,

Olivia

Olivia put down her quill pen and felt the puckered scar tissue. Today she felt strong, there were no tears, and she knew things had changed.

Ellen joined her to help her dress. "Ellen – I didn't expect to see you this morning," Olivia said in surprise. "Have you had any sleep?"

"A little My Lady, but I'm fine. After the ball, Mrs. Jennings and Mr. Parker arranged breakfast for all the household staff. The house is almost back to normal. No one would know that the last guests left only four hours ago."

"Well, I'll be glad of your help in dressing my hair."

"I talked to Lady Leighton's French maid yesterday, and she showed me all the new styles from Paris. I have an idea for how I can twist your hair a little differently at the sides."

"I'm in your hands Ellen," Olivia said, laughing.

Ellen laid out a pearly gray silk dress on the bed.

"I don't recognize that dress, Ellen," Olivia commented.

"It's one of the new ones, My Lady. Lady Leighton insisted you had several for your season in London."

"Oh dear, I don't think Uncle Harold will be pleased to find that out."

"Oh, apparently Lady Leighton told him it was essential if you were going to look as if you were top drawer of the ton , and it was worth the investment."

Olivia laughed. "She convinced him that a new trousseau would get me off his hands." And she collapsed in giggles.

"It's good to hear you laughing, My Lady," said Ellen smiling before pausing and looking at Olivia curiously. "And maybe there was some truth in Lady Leighton's words. I believe you may have made a conquest last night."

"Oh no, Ellen, that was Lady Jocelyn. She has a second suitor, a Lord Hastings who is, it seems, the mystery admirer who keeps sending flowers."

"And Lord Marcus Hatfield, heir to the Duke of Hargrove?" queried Ellen.

"Oh, well…" said Olivia.

"Ah yes, My Lady. I heard it from two of the junior footmen that his lordship was unable to take his eyes off you, and that you danced three dances together, including a waltz."

"Well, that's true but…"

"And a young lady only dances two dances unless there is a serious attachment," Ellen continued.

"Well yes but…"

"He would be a fool not to fall in love with you, and I'll leave it there," Ellen concluded.

"And there's been no other gossip?" asked Olivia.

"Oh, quite a bit of gossip, there always is after these events. If you mean that business with Lady Cressida, then she hasn't come out of it very well. Everyone knows she was jealous of you, and how his lordship was clearly entranced by you. She set about spreading rumors about you and was trounced soundly by Lady Leighton and the Earl of Hatfield."

"Everyone knows then, about the disfigurement?" Olivia asked nervously.

Ellen stopped twining a strand on her hair and looked intently at her mistress. "I think they always knew, your Ladyship. Your hairstyle changed quite dramatically after the fire. There would have been talk at that point. The thing is, and Lady Cressida will never understand this, your personality always shines through, and no one notices the scars."

Olivia felt tears welling up and she felt a warmth and affection for Ellen, who had grown up with her at Silverton Hall and become her maid when she came of age. The difference in social standing was irrelevant; Ellen was her friend as well as her maid.

"Now, I'd better get on and finish your hair. I believe Lady Leighton has plans for this morning and breakfast is already laid out in the morning room."

After more twirling of strands of hair, Ellen finally stood back and said she was satisfied with the result.

She held up the glass for Olivia to look.

The new style suits me, it hides the scar, but somehow isn't as far forward as my usual style.

"I like it, Ellen, very much. Thank you."

"It was Minette, Lady Leighton's French maid, who showed me the technique, but I agree, it works very well."

As Olivia entered the morning room for breakfast, she was surprised to find that she was the last to arrive. Marianne, Jocelyn and Charles were already at the table. Uncle Harold had already returned home to Swanbourne Place the previous evening.

And for once Olivia felt hungry, and accepted the porridge, followed by braised chops as well as her usual bread and butter.

"I thought we could go together to Swanbourne Place to sort through your wardrobes this morning. We need to choose which events of the season we will attend, and yesterday Uncle Harold reminded me of another event on the horizon," Olivia told Jocelyn.

"He did?" said Jocelyn in surprise. "Uncle knows our social calendar?"

Marianne laughed, her beautiful soprano voice drawing a look of admiration from her beloved Charles. "I think that would be too much to expect. No, it is an event which we had all quite forgotten."

Olivia looked at her friend in confusion. Did she mean Jocelyn's presentation to Queen Charlotte?

"Lord Sherwyn, or Harold, as he has asked me to call him…"

There was a pause while Olivia and Jocelyn spluttered in disbelief.

"You have certainly charmed that old curmudgeon," said Charles. "You've made another conquest my dear Marianne."

"I must say you are all rather unfair about dear Harold," Marianne berated them.

More spluttering laughter came from his nieces.

"As I was trying to say, Harold has reminded me of another event which should be on our social calendar."

"I think you are going to have to end this anticipation my dear," Charles urged her.

"Very well, my love. Harold tells me that although the work has been delayed a little by the bad weather this winter, that the renovations of Silverton Hall will soon be completed."

"Of course," said Olivia.

"I have persuaded him there should be a party or ball to mark the re-opening," said Marianne. She looked at Jocelyn. "I know it will be a bittersweet occasion for you my dear."

"No, no Marianne, far from it. I grew up at Silverton Hall and all my wonderful memories of Mama and Papa are of our life there. I'll always miss them, and nanny too, but they would want me to be happy in our home again."

"I'm glad you feel that way. Silverton is a beautiful place," Marianne said sounding relieved.

"It's too early to plan, but I shall look forward to organizing an event for—" She paused dramatically and looked at Jocelyn, then Olivia. "Dear Harold, Lord Sherwyn."

Olivia felt a pang of longing as she thought of walking in the woods at Silverton once more. Everything is changing, she thought, and an image of honey brown eyes floated into her mind.

They arrived back at Swanbourne to find that ‘dear' Uncle Harold had already left for his club. Marianne took over the drawing room, and soon there were piles of dresses, pelisses, redingotes, and bonnets covering every surface. Ellen and Millie, one of the parlor maids, carried clothes up and downstairs.

Olivia was glad her uncle was out, as she thought this chaos might have tested his amicable relationship with Lady Leighton to its limits.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Jennings joined them, bringing tea and honey cakes and her eye for the latest fashions.

"I'm so sorry Lady Jocelyn, because I only arrived back at Swanbourne this morning I quite forgot. We had another delivery of flowers for you early this morning."

Millie entered the drawing room carrying the largest bouquet of flowers they had ever seen. It was so huge that it was difficult to see Millie behind the bouquet. Jocelyn rushed across to help her carry the flowers.

"Oh, those are so beautiful," declared Olivia.

"Now Millie, let's go and put these in a vase in the dining room," said Mrs. Jennings. "There's nowhere in here to display them."

"Are they from Lord Ludlow?" asked Marianne.

"No. I discovered the identity of the sender last night. It's Lord Hastings," replied Jocelyn.

"I saw he was quite taken with you. He danced with you twice I think?" said Marianne.

"Yes, and told me that he would call soon and that he'd like me to meet his mama."

"He sounds a serious suitor," mused Marianne. "How do you feel about that my dear, if you don't mind me asking? I know Lord Ludlow has been visiting and I wondered if he might propose."

Jocelyn blushed bright pink. "I know. I really thought it was Colin, err, Lord Ludlow who had sent me those flowers."

Jocelyn walked to the window, back to the piles of clothes, and then back to the window again, clearly agitated.

Olivia spoke gently. "Come and sit with us over here and tell us what's troubling you."

"I just feel so confused. I love being in town and the recitals and soirées. My ball was one of the most magical evenings ever," Jocelyn said, looking with grateful thanks at Marianne. "Then I met Colin, that first night of the season. I really, really like him. I think, well I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with him."

"I suspect he loves you and is also surprised at the intensity of his feelings," Olivia told her.

"Ah yes, even though he came to town in search of love and a bride, it is still quite a shock for these men when they realize that they have fallen in love." Marianne smiled at Jocelyn. "Even the Viscount, my own dear Charles, has said as much about those first few weeks when we first met."

Olivia handed Jocelyn a cup of tea. "Here, drink this. You're all a-tremble with nerves."

Jocelyn began to sip her tea and whispered, "Thank you."

"Now, I'm wondering whether Lord Ludlow has proposed yet," Marianne questioned Jocelyn.

Jocelyn shook her head. "No, no he hasn't."

"And you like Lord Hastings?" asked Marianne.

"I don't know. He seems perfectly charming, and I enjoyed dancing with him last night."

"There is nothing wrong with being courted by more than one gentleman," said Olivia. "And you haven't promised anything to Lord Ludlow."

Marianne handed Jocelyn a plate with a honey cake on it. "You know, I'm quite glad I didn't meet Charles during my first season. It can be such fun to go to soirées, recitals and balls. I enjoyed choosing gowns and bonnets, ribbons and lace. It's about being young, and enjoying no longer being in the school room. I'm going to say now that, with what happened three years ago, I think that's especially important for you Jocelyn."

"Yes," added Olivia. "Marianne is right. You need to enjoy the experience and see what happens. It's an adventure."

"Thank you," murmured Jocelyn. "I don't know what I would do without the two of you."

"We're here for you, you know that, and if we should decide to go on a tour of Europe then you have, erm, dear Uncle Harold to give you counsel," Marianne said laughing.

"As we're talking of good counsel, I know you talked with Lord Hatfield last night Olivia," said Jocelyn.

Marianne raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You did?"

"Oh yes, I was in the library with Olivia, and he came in and told me that I could return to the ball, and he would stay with Olivia."

"Did he? This is an interesting development," said Marianne in a quizzical tone.

"All right. I shall tell you both what happened."

Well not quite all that happened.

"I was hoping you would say that. Pray continue…" said her friend.

"He listened while I talked. He's quite a good listener."

"Is he indeed?" commented Marianne.

"I felt so much better after talking with him."

"I can imagine," said Marianne.

"Marianne, stop this now. It was just a friendly conversation, nothing more."

"Olivia, I do not believe that for a minute. However, I shall pretend to, if it makes you feel happy."

"I told him about the fire and, I don't know why, but I showed him the scars."

"Ah!" said Marianne.

"But you never show anyone those scars," added Jocelyn.

"I know, and I can't explain it. All I can say is that it made a difference. I felt better after spending time with Lord Hatfield. I no longer care about Lady Cressida and her lies."

"Lady Cressida is a vicious and dangerous young woman. She scented something between you and Lord Hatfield. I believe she set her cap at him a long time ago, and expected to secure a proposal this season," Marianne proclaimed.

"Will he call soon?" asked Jocelyn. "Perhaps he'll call with Lord Ludlow."

"I'm in no hurry to see him again. It was traumatic to hear those evil words circulating around the ballroom, and then feel better after talking with Lord Hatfield. I would prefer not to see anyone for a day or two while I work out how I feel about it all."

"You need to see him again soon, Olivia. He might fall in love with you," said Jocelyn.

"Josie, stop that now," protested Olivia.

"If he hasn't already," Marianne added quietly. "I suspect he is another who is coming to terms with, err, unexpected feelings."

She walked over to the clothes and picked up a redingote and held it up in front of her. "I love these new coats, but I admit my preference is still for a warm woolen hooded cloak."

The rest of the day passed pleasantly, and the piles of clothes gradually reduced long before Uncle Harold returned.

***

As the candles were lit for the evening, Olivia felt exhaustion creeping in. The ball had lasted all night, she had slept for no longer than three hours, and was now struggling to keep her eyes open. A knock on the door made her jump and Millie entered, offering her a silver tray with two letters.

"Mrs. Jennings says these arrived this morning but got missed with all the upheaval after the ball, my lady."

"Thank you, Millie. I hope you're not too tired."

"No, my lady, it's all been very exciting."

Olivia smiled as the maid left, turning the letters over in her hands.

She knew that one must be from the new publisher, and it must be a rejection, as it was only a few days since the manuscript had been left at the publishing house.

This is ridiculous. If it is a rejection, then you can try again and write other books in the future.

She took off the seal, the bright red stamped sealing wax glinting in the candlelight. She looked down expectantly.

No, far from it. They want to publish my book.

She stood up and took a deep breath, feeling a little dizzy with the excitement.

They want to publish my book. ..the words were still there on the page.

A contract for Mr. N.P. Feather would follow within days.

How much easier it seems to be for a man to get a book published than a woman, she thought with irritation.

If necessary, she could ask Viscount Leighton to sign the contract in proxy for her at the publisher's office.

Her heart was light as she held the letter close. Her book in print. It was not only a dream come true, but a possible route to independence from Uncle Harold and his continual pressure to find a husband.

I wonder if Jocelyn has retired to bed yet. I must go and tell Marianne and Charles my news first thing tomorrow.

She put the other letter in her bureau, intending to look at it in the morning. It looked like a routine letter from Crabtree and Watts, her family solicitors.

She pulled on her robe with Belgian lace edging and went to find Jocelyn. She simply had to share her news with someone.

Jocelyn and Mrs. Jennings were sitting together in the housekeeper's parlor sewing. Although a housekeeper, Mrs. Jennings was a distant cousin and had spent long summers at Silverton while growing up. She had taken on the mantle of housekeeper after a short marriage and the loss of her husband at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.

"Olivia," called Jocelyn. "I thought you'd retired for the night."

"I had, but then Millie brought the letters and… my book is to be published."

"That's wonderful!" cried Jocelyn.

"Exactly the sort of good news we needed to hear," said Mrs. Jennings. "I'm delighted for you."

Both looked at the letter and wondered how long it would take for the book to be published.

As she took a cup of tea from Mrs. Jennings, Olivia noticed her exchange a glance with Jocelyn.

"Is there something you need to tell me about?" Olivia asked, "I can see there is something."

"I was going to tell you in the morning," said Jocelyn. "We only found out an hour ago."

"Found out what?" Olivia asked with impatience.

"The weekly rider from Silverton Hall arrived today with the usual letters and reports for your uncle. Cook gave the lad a good meal and he gave her all the local news. It seems Sir Jonathan Ellington has returned to England, after being on the continent for three years," Mrs. Jennings informed her.

Olivia, stunned, simply said, "Thank you for letting me know, I doubt we shall ever see him again."

After she returned to her bedchamber, she thought it through objectively.

She gripped the wooden windowsill and peered out into the darkness. No stars or moonlight tonight.

I realize now how unrealistic that was, but nevertheless, I came to believe that after he walked away from our engagement that I would never need to see him again.

Then it came to her that she could use the same approach and step into the role of Contessa Allegra Fortuny if she eventually met Jonathan again.

***

Cressida knew deep depths of rage after seeing Olivia with Marcus at the ball. She realized with anger that Lord Hatfield would never propose to her, and she planned to have her revenge. She would enjoy destroying this fledgling relationship and wasted no time in putting her plan into action.

She had called that afternoon on Lady Elaine Frobisher, a notorious society gossip. Over a cup of fine China tea, she confided her concern at seeing Lady Olivia Sherwyn with Lord Marcus Hatfield during the ball at Maybury Crescent. They had come out of the library with their clothing disheveled and what's more Lady Olivia had proceeded to lead the earl upstairs towards the bedrooms.

It was a rather ridiculous story, and the chances of anyone taking such a risk during a ball were slight. But Cressida was a convincing storyteller and the story spread, at first slowly, then gathering traction in the ton.

***

Within two days the news of the gossip being circulated reached Swanbourne Place. Marianne arrived holding a scandal sheet which specifically mentioned an incident at a recent ball at the home of Viscount Leighton where a Lady Olivia Sherwyn had been seen in a state of undress in the arms of a certain Marcus, Earl of Hatfield, who had an estate in Hertfordshire.

Marianne's face was ashen. "I'm so sorry to show you this, but you have to be aware."

Olivia read the words and they began to swirl before her eyes. "I can't believe this," she whispered. "I'm nobody. I'm not rich. I hardly engage in any social activities. Who could write this?"

As they talked it through Marianne told Olivia she was quite sure of the identity of the scandalmonger. The same person who had been engaged in spreading unkind rumors at Jocelyn's coming out ball.

"Surely no one will believe this. It's such an unimaginative story. I don't care about myself, but I don't want Jocelyn tainted by connection with me," said Olivia.

"Oh, Olivia! That sounds noble, but if this continues then you are ruined," Marianne warned her.

"I've lived through so much that I am not scared of idle chit chat." Knowing that she was being far from truthful, she continued. "I'm going to put it out of my mind for now."

"I think that's best," said her friend, taken in by Olivia's positive manner. "Hopefully the story will fade away as quickly as it began."

"Let's hope so, and I'm not going to let this spoil the joy of my book being published," stated Olivia

She continued, "At least I have the book contract. I don't have to marry to please Uncle Harold, or anyone else. I'm sure there must be a cottage somewhere, where I can live out my days quietly. I was going to seek work as a governess or companion, and I hardly dare dream, but it looks as though I might be able to support myself independently."

She knew she could write. It was her essence, her identity, and it was going to be her escape.

"Well, I don't think that is something you need to worry about at the moment," Marianne reassured her.

"I'm not going to leave society quietly though. I am a gentlewoman of quality, and I will fight this scandalmonger. I have no idea why she hates me so much that she would try to destroy my reputation," said Olivia, with more confidence than she felt.

Yet even as she said this, she saw the face of Marcus, bending close to hers, and knew that the green claws of jealousy were responsible for this situation.

We're at sea in a storm and poor Jocelyn and even Uncle, Marianne and Charles have been dragged into this maelstrom. We will find safe harbor. I know we will.

Marianne touched her hand gently "You looked as if you were lost in a world of your own. Are you sure you're alright?"

At that moment there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Jennings entered. "Lord Ludlow and Lord Hatfield have called. Shall I show them through?"

For a moment Olivia longed with all her heart to see Marcus' face. It was so difficult to know he was in the house and wanted to see her… and yet she couldn't bring herself to invite him to stay.

She looked at Marianne. "Jocelyn is out at the milliners. I cannot find the energy to greet Lord Ludlow or Lord Hatfield this afternoon."

"Very well," decided Marianne. "I will be leaving soon anyway, and you would be without a chaperone." She looked at Mrs. Jennings. "Please tell their Lordships that we are not at home to visitors this afternoon, but we hope to welcome them again very soon."

"Very good, my Lady," said Mrs. Jennings.

As Mrs. Jennings left to relay the message, Marianne looked at Olivia strangely and she knew her friend did not believe her. "And Lord Hatfield? I see your breathing change and you look flushed in color. My dear, is there anything you wish to share about Lord Hatfield?

Olivia looked away, stammering. "I erm, I …"

"No, no I do not believe for a minute anything on that scandal sheet. However, I have noticed that Lord Hatfield looks at you often and seems to listen to your every word. I have wondered if he admires you. Now I see this distress, and I wonder if you might have an affection for him?" Marianne paused, holding her friend's hand, and looking directly at her.

"My dear. Are you in love with Lord Marcus Hatfield?"

Olivia couldn't believe she had let her emotions show. She shook her head in denial, while finding it hard to say anything.

Then she saw Marianne's kind and concerned face, and remembered this was her friend who had been with her through the darkest days of her life.

"I believe I do," she whispered. "But I'm damaged physically. I'm no longer beautiful. And now, it seems my reputation may be ruined." She pressed her friend's hand in quiet thankfulness for having such a caring confidante. "Don't say anything. Please forget we ever had this conversation."

"As you wish my dear friend," said Marianne, rising to go to her carriage. "Look after yourself. We are in uncharted waters, and I fear there are some unknown enemies around us." She kissed Olivia gently on her cheek. "You never lost your beauty. You are one of the most beautiful people I know, both in appearance and spirit."

And with that Marianne was gone, leaving Olivia exhausted, but content to know that she had friends and family who cared for her.