Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Olivia found her way back to the moonlit terrace and garden later that evening, Marguerite, sensing her mood, stayed close by her side.

Since the night of the tragedy at Silverton she had determined to be strong and keep going. She'd focused on supporting Jocelyn, knowing her niece had lost both parents in horrific circumstances.

Olivia often told herself to put one foot in front of the other, keep walking and you will get there eventually. It often worked as a strategy for coping. She'd learned the importance of distracting herself from melancholy thoughts, circling in her mind. She missed riding across the heathland. Riding in London rarely took her above a canter, and she usually needed to keep her horse at a walking pace.

Sometimes she just wanted to tear off her skirts and run, so she could feel the air against her face and sense the breeze blowing around her body. As a child she'd loved running through the forest at Silverton Hall, without the encumbrance of petticoats.

She reached out and lifted the tiny spaniel onto her lap. If Ellen her saw her then she would no doubt be admonished, yet the little dog loved being close to people, and tonight she needed closeness and someone to talk with. Her thoughts were too tumultuous to talk with Marianne or Jocelyn. She didn't even know if her impressions were right. Perhaps she had imagined Marcus' coldness.

Since her engagement, Olivia had felt a quiet contentment. A still, small place of calm inside her had given her confidence and optimism for the future.

She was engaged to be married, and it might be a marriage of convenience, forced upon her by the gossipmongers, but in her heart, she knew there was no man she would rather marry than Marcus. She still did not quite understand the feelings she experienced when close to him, but the connection was strong, exciting, and strangely comforting… all at the same time.

Once they had become engaged, she had relaxed with a feeling of intense relief and happiness.

Tonight, all the insecurities had returned. Olivia looked around the terrace, remembering where Marcus had stood, replaying the words he'd said to her. Each time she went back over the scene her confusion grew stronger.

I had to tell him about my inheritance and the return of Jonathan. I don't want to hide anything. It was a surprise to have so many sudden admirers, in spite of the gossip, but I know it is only due to my fortune. They never even looked in my direction before. Maybe I was a little flattered?

Her fear was that he was trying to break off their engagement.

"Oh Marguerite, when he arrived I felt so happy, with an intense joy which is hard to describe. When he sat beside me on the settee I felt as if I had returned to my safe harbor in life. Then, within hours, he told me I could find another suitor and he could release me from the betrothal.

"I thought we would be naming a date for the wedding. Instead, I don't know what to do or say. Why, oh why, does life have to be so complicated?

"If he doesn't wish to marry me after all, perhaps he is hoping I find someone else, so the arrangement can be ended, quietly and discreetly. He can breathe a sigh of relief and walk away."

Tears formed in Olivia's eyes. Tiny drops, which felt damp on her cheek. She wiped one away realizing her whole cheek was wet. As she let them flow, she held Marguerite close and let them fall. When she heard herself sob, she stood, still holding Marguerite, and began walking backward and forward along the terrace.

What do I do? Is this the end of our engagement? Why did I ever think anyone could love me? I'm ugly.

The little dog whimpered, and the sound broke into her thoughts and back to reality.

"I have you, little friend. I've got Jocelyn and Marianne and my good friend Mrs. Jennings. Even Uncle Harold seems to have mellowed in the last few weeks.

"I need to remember the things I have. There is so much that I can be grateful for."

In her mind a plan started to form. She wanted to go back to Silverton and didn't want to live in town anymore. She needed to feel the countryside around her. She wanted that freedom to move around, without feeling as though there were people all around her.

She wanted to take off her stockings and cool her feet in a stream. She longed to look at the woods in the changing seasons.

It's time. I'm not scared anymore. I can return to Silverton Hall. The renovations are almost complete now. As soon as Jocelyn is settled and engaged then I can leave this townhouse.

She could either live in the house or have one of the properties on the estate renovated. The Dower House is empty, and she might live there. She could walk, ride and write. She believed that over time she'd heal.

I was foolish to think I had a chance of happiness with the Earl of Hatfield. It's time to put that behind me.I won't end the engagement yet, but soon, very soon I'll set Marcus free.

A cool breeze whirled around her, leaves of sweet honeysuckle and rambling roses rustling high above on the pergola frame.

She wiped away the remaining tears, and welcomed a feeling of determined resolution, that she could be strong and make a life in her own place.

A haven, a retreat to be alone. She would write and share her stories and maybe others would read her books and it might help them to be strong in facing adversity.

In my next book the heroine is not going to be perfect. She is going to be scarred; I don't know how yet, but she will face adversity and overcome it.

Olivia placed Marguerite on the terrace and walked with her through the deserted garden. Her footsteps echoed on the pathway, and she reached out and picked a white rose, which stood out in the moonlight garden. Rosa Alba, her mother had planted it there long ago. She held it to her face and inhaled the warmth of the spicy clove scent. One by one petals fell to the pathway, but the scent remained.

She picked a second bloom and held it in her hand as she walked back to the house.

I can do this. I can be strong. I've loved and lost before, and this is no different.

***

There was no word from Marcus in the next few days. Lord Ludlow visited Jocelyn every day, and Olivia's spirits lifted to see the happiness they had in each other's company.

Lord Hastings also continued to visit, and she would always be grateful to him for continuing to visit during those dark days when they were ostracized from society. Jocelyn did not love him. She'd almost considered marrying him when Colin had left for Granville Hall, and she'd heard nothing from him.

When news of Olivia's good fortune started to spread, and suitors returned, Jocelyn had expressed no interest. Conversation just seemed tedious. Lord Hastings continued to press for an answer to his proposal, until one day, when Jocelyn had quietly explained that she could not love him. Something about her manner had been resolute, and there was no misreading the clear message. After that Lord Hastings had not returned.

Marianne heard he had quickly transferred his affections to the Honorable Miss Jane Livingstone. They all missed the deliveries of flowers. "His gardens at his country estate must be wonderful," laughed Marianne. "Jocelyn, are you sure you don't want to change your mind?"

"I am sorry to disappoint you. It's clear to me that I only want Colin. He's hinted at a proposal but hasn't made it formal yet."

When Uncle Harold asked her if the earl would be joining them for supper again, Olivia avoided his questioning gaze.

"I think he might be out of town for a few days," she muttered.

"Well, I miss his conversation," said her uncle. "I've a good red claret waiting for him to try."

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," replied Olivia.

"We need to start planning your wedding. I'm sure the parson at Silverton will do the honors. I wonder if that young beau of Jocelyn's is ready to make an offer. You could have a double wedding and save me a lot of money," said Uncle Harold with a twinkle in his eye.

Olivia smiled, rather glad that the skinflint streak in her uncle hadn't totally disappeared. Uncle Harold wouldn't be the same without his penny-pinching ways.

"Hopefully soon, he's clearly smitten with Jocelyn." She deftly steered conversation away from discussion about the earl.

"It will be good to have a wedding at Silverton Hall. Bring the place to life again," he said, startling her with his words.

"And when are you going to announce your news?" he continued. "You're both shillyshallying at telling people about this betrothal. The sooner the news is out, the better. It will stop this constant stream of fortune hunting suitors who are parading through the house each and every afternoon."

"Oh Uncle," was all she could think of to say.

He had a point though. This steady stream of admirers needed to stop. She had no interest in any of them and it was unfair to keep them hanging on.

Later that day she began to speak gently to the bevvy of suitors and tell each that she expected an announcement soon.

"Surely not?"

"Give me another chance …"

"I'm sure I can make you happy …"

"I know we are meant to be together …"

By the end of the second day. Olivia felt exhausted by the sadness and disbelief of her circle of suitors. When several new hopefuls arrived, she instructed Mrs. Jennings to tell them that she was not at home.

There was a final poignant scene in the late afternoon. Sir Jonathan had continued to call, and she enjoyed his conversation and the shared childhood and memories which drew them together.

He smiled at her across the fireplace as she poured him a cup of rich orange pekoe tea. He took it, reminding her of the first time she had poured tea for him at Silverton Hall.

Yes, they went back in time a long way. Their families had been friends and they had spent many hours at each other's houses.

And… she had loved him. One day, when she was nineteen and in the middle of a season in London, she had looked around at the young bucks who were vying for her attention and just wanted a conversation with Jonathan.

They had begun to dance together, walk together, enjoy carriage rides and taking tea in the garden. Olivia had begun to see a life with Jonathan, which was close in style to that of her brother and his wife, and her dear parents. That was love, with a comfortable, predictable pattern of engagement, marriage and continuation of tradition. Olivia imagined a contented life with children gathered around them.

The suddenly it was over. Life changed within a week.

His return in the last month had allowed Olivia to step back into familiar conversation, laughter about their neighbors, and the community near Silverton Hall. When he'd offered his arm on a walk through the park she had found it a pleasant experience.

Jonathan clearly wooed her with focus and determination. He had brought her a garnet and pearl brooch and given it to her in the garden. The same garden where she had listened to Marcus, telling her she was free to find another, if that was what she preferred to do.

Yet there was no connection, no feeling of anticipation, or checking though the window to catch sight of him arriving. When he held her arm it was pleasant, but there was no shallow breathing, or sensation of light headedness. She had never wanted to lean close to him and feel the warm of his arms holding her close.

I think we were friends and I liked him. I suspect I believed that meant love. I know now there is something more to love. I know how it feels to be with Marcus. I don't love Jonathan and I never did.

Even so, she hadn't expected the words he spoke now.

"We've known each other for many years. I value your friendship very highly," he began.

"And I yours…" she responded.

"I see the suitors surrounding you and cannot wait. I would be devastated if you found another suitor before I've had chance to tell you how I feel."

Olivia started at him open mouthed.

"We have wasted so much time. I don't want to wait any longer," he said.

I've wasted time. I would have married you long ago…

"I never stopped loving you, Olivia. I don't know what happened. Perhaps it was my own grief for your brother and sister-in-law."

That does it. How can he use his own grief at the death of Frederick and Mary to explain why he ended our engagement. He told me at the time, very clearly, that it was due to his mother's influence and financial uncertainties.

She took a sharp breath and continued with politeness. "My brother was a special person and I know he was a good friend to you."

"I know I behaved abominably, due to a misguided duty to prioritize the family finances. I was wrong, immature and scared."

He took her hand in his. "I never stopped loving you."

He took her hand and kissed it.

For a brief moment Olivia found herself transported back in time. A young Olivia, eager to experience love, believing herself madly in love with her childhood friend took her place.

"I don't know what to say," she said stumbling over her words. "I need to think."

"Say yes," he cried. "Make me the happiest of men. Let's make our families happy and plan a life together."

Looking back on that scene, she had wanted to tell him she would give him an answer soon. She remembered the words started to form. Then something stopped her.

I'm already engaged to another. He may not want me, but today I am betrothed to the Earl of Hatfield. And … I want to be engaged to the earl. It may not work out, but I can't give up on it yet.

" Jonathan, you are a dear friend. I've enjoyed seeing you again this past week, but it is friendship, not love."

"You used to love me. You will love me again. I know it," he said urgently.

"I hear what you say, but I know I cannot love you. I realize now that I never did."

He stared at her, crestfallen.

"After the fire …" she started to say.

He interrupted. "I was wrong then, so very wrong in what I said and did. Please Olivia, give me a second chance."

"Jonathan," she removed her hand. "We're not children anymore. I believe that if you had not broken off our engagement then I would have married you. I'd never have questioned my love for you."

She looked past him at the dull, grey sky and thought how it reflected her mood perfectly.

"I'd have been wrong and missed out on so much in life. You would have missed out too. I do not believe you feel the kind of love for me which is needed for a long and happy marriage."

For a split second the look of cold rage which crossed his face made her fearful. She shivered, then told herself that this was her old friend Jonathan and she had imagined it.

"I am convinced that I would not make you happy, and I do not believe we are right for each other," she added.

"There is someone else?" he asked

Olivia looked at him in exasperation. "Jonathan, it is 3 years since you broke off our engagement…"

He began to speak, but she put up her hand to stop him.

"You may feel differently now, but in effect you jilted me. You humiliated me, in front of all our acquaintances, when you chose to end our engagement." Scenes of the aftermath of the fire and how he had stayed away when she had needed him most flashed through her mind. The haunting memory of him telling her that he had changed his mind on the day of the funeral, before the bandages on the scars had been removed.

Time had passed and more importantly she now knew what true love felt like. The way it took over your thoughts, the way your body responded when the one you loved came close, and the longing to see them again when you were apart.

She would never understand how Jonathan could have been so cruel. Even if he had needed to end their engagement his timing had been brutal in its impact. She could tolerate Jonathan and bear to be in the same room as him, but she could never love him.

"Please believe that I could never marry you," she said with certainty. ‘It's really very simple. I don't love you."

She gripped the arm of the green velvet settee. There, I've said it. Please go and leave me alone.

She thought of Marcus and the slim possibility of marriage with him. Then she remembered her plan to live quietly at Silverton, writing and being content with life.

She had pathways to choose, and none led to marriage with Sir Jonathan Ellington.