Chapter 26

"And just what do you think you are doing here?"

In all honesty, Olivia knew she had nowhere else to go. She did not wish to be there, at her parents' door, with nothing to her name, but she had no other choice. She could not stand the thought of being at Bolton Manor anymore. Besides, if she had nothing to her name, at least she had nothing to lose.

"I came to see you, Father."

"I thought I had made myself quite clear the last time I saw you."

"You did, as did I, but time has passed and-"

"And you need something, is that it? Well, ask elsewhere."

"Father, I am not here to cause you any further trouble, I assure you."

"You have been nothing but trouble, Olivia. Your mother has been in pieces since the day you left. Truly, have you no shame?"

Apparently not.

What struck Olivia the most, however, was that as unkind as he was being, he was at least more inviting than that awful Margaret had been. She wondered if the duke blamed himself for what had happened, and she hoped that he didn't. Well, not entirely. She was still angry with him for what he had done, but she couldn't blame him for not falling in love with her; she wasn't owed his affection, he had done enough for her. No, she had left because she felt like the laughing stock of the household.

Margaret was mostly to blame for that, of course, but she also couldn't help but harbor some ill feelings towards Scott. She hated how he smirked at her in the hallway and told her that he would never marry her. It was just as well, for she hated the thought of being his wife regardless, but there was no need for him to have been so cruel about it.

And now here her father was, and in comparison he seemed nicer against all odds.

"Is Mother here?" She asked.

"No, and even if she was, she would not wish to see you. You ruined our family, Olivia. Why would she want to?"

"I understand, but I need to speak with her. I have a proposition for the two of you, and I think you would agree that it is a good idea if you would only listen."

"I have listened to you enough over the years."

He had not, but that was beside the point.

"Do you truly loathe me this much?" She whispered, "I know that I made you angry, and I brought shame upon us all, but I thought you would at least understand that I am your daughter, and I love you."

"Olivia?"

Olivia looked just past her father, and there she was. Her mother. She seemed older, far older than she looked when Olivia left, and exhausted. She wondered if her mother had slept at all since she was sent away. The ordeal had been taxing on herself, to be sure, but now that she was face to face with her mother she questioned the extent to which her parents had struggled too.

"Mother? I thought you were not here."

"Of course I am. I hardly go anywhere at all these days."

Her father grimaced. His plan had not been successful. With a sigh, he pushed the door open and allowed her past the threshold. She entered, but did not approach her mother. It was too much and too soon, even if her mother wanted to embrace her.

The home seemed smaller, quaint almost. Olivia wondered if it was because she was comparing it to Bolton Manor and all of its grandeur, or simply because she had grown up in her time away. Regardless, it clearly did not feel like her home anymore. Her parents had seemingly removed every trace of her; every painting, every belonging of her, no longer visible.

"Destroyed or hidden away?" She asked quietly, so much so that they did not hear her.

"Out with it, then," he said firmly, "What do you want?"

"Tea, first," her mother interjected, "It is dark out, and she must be freezing."

This wasn't strictly true. It had taken a long time to reach the household on foot, and it was indeed nightfall by that point, but it was summer and the air was warm. Even so, tea was a welcome treat.

"Very well, but make it quick," he shrugged, "I do not want her taking up any more time than necessary."

He stormed away, perhaps to send for the tea, and her mother softened immediately.

"Dearest," she whispered, "You must forgive him. His work has been seemingly endless of late, and this is not the sort of surprise that he has seen coming."

"No, of course not," Olivia replied gently, "I expected him to be less than pleased about my arrival."

"He is pleased, whether he admits it or not. He has missed you."

"I do doubt that, but thank you nonetheless."

"It is the truth, dear. He has regretted what passed between the two of you since the day you left."

"Then why didn't he write to me?"

"We did not know where you were."

"You did. You both knew exactly where I went."

Her mother shifted awkwardly. Olivia pitied her; she knew that her mother had no say in what happened to her, but even so she couldn't quite forgive her for what happened, and she certainly did not want to forget what her mother allowed to happen.

"He couldn't face it," she replied at last, "Neither of us could. We knew we were wrong for what we did, and that turned the shame we felt towards you into shame towards ourselves. It's not how we wanted things to be, but eventually we decided that it was better this way."

"You decided that you were better without me?"

"We decided that you were better without us. Virgini- the dowager duchess, I mean, was able to give you a better life than we could. She is kinder than the two of us by a mile, and she was in need of a companion too. By the time we understood what we had done to you, we realized that you were happier than we could ever make you."

"And so you never contacted me?"

"We were ashamed of what we had done to you. We thought it would be best for you that we didn't remind you of everything that had happened, and that it would be better if we allowed you to forget about it. Were we right? Are you happier there?"

She was, for a long time, but that didn't change anything. It didn't help that given recent events she was once more without support.

"I suppose so, but what I needed was my parents. Do you have any idea how lonely it has been knowing that I had nothing to my name?"

"I can only imagine, but you are here and you are healthy. We can find a way through this."

"I… I do not know if I want to."

"You must do," her mother laughed gently, "If you didn't, you wouldn't be here."

Olivia knew that her mother was right, but she didn't want her to be. She wanted to raise her voice and tell her exactly how lonely she had been, but she knew that it was no use. She was sitting in their drawing room, about to drink their tea, and she had been welcomed, even if not with open arms.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Her mother asked her after a silence, "Your proposition?"

"I was wondering if I might have a season next year."

The viscountess blinked.

"Do you think that is wise? After everything that happened, I am not so sure if-"

"Virginia thinks it would be good for me. She says that enough time has passed and enough scandal has happened and that what happened will be forgotten by now, if only by the gentlemen."

"Well, I suppose that people do not mention it to your father and I anymore. Why have you decided to do it now?"

"I have done a lot of growing up, and it turns out that you were right. I will not find love, and so I might as well be practical about it."

"Better late than never, I suppose. I cannot be so sure that your father will agree to it, however."

It was then that the door opened and her father entered. As always, he had a face like thunder and was utterly disinterested in her.

"And how can you be so sure that it will work?" He asked, "It was quite bold of you to tell your mother about this in my absence."

"Only because she asked me," Olivia snapped before taking a breath, "My apologies, Father. I was only asking what she thought because I did not want to bother you with it if there was no good that could come of it."

"Olivia, I wanted this attitude from you over a year ago, now. Had you been like this in the first place then we might not have been in this position to begin with. Now you have shown up at my door expecting me to fix your predicament once again."

"I expect nothing of you. I am only asking that you allow me to try again. If you permit me to have one last season, I will find a match. I have learned a lot in my time with the dowager duchess, and I am confident in my abilities now. I will make you proud, I promise you."

"You and I both know that your promises are worth very little."

Her heart stung. She knew this to be the case, of course, but to hear her father say it so brazenly was like a knife in her side.

"Charles…" the viscountess said gently.

"Alright," he sighed, "We will do as you say, but I have some rules about it."

"Of course, Father. I will do anything."

She wondered what exactly had transpired between her parents for her father to listen to her mother like that. He had never cared for her opinion at all; he had never cared for the opinion of anyone but himself.

The tea was served, and her parents stared at her expectantly until she reached out for a slice of cake.

"For one," her father began, "I will not be waiting until the next season. If this is what you want, then we will be doing it now."

"But the season has already begun, has it not?"

"It is well underway, yes, but that is no matter. We will have some gowns made for you should your old ones no longer fit you, and from there you shall be all set."

Olivia wondered if that was a slight about her weight, but she ignored it. After all, her father was willing to help her and that was already a surprise in and of itself, and so she tried to be grateful.

"As well as this," he continued, "I shall not be waiting the season out. If you wish to marry, and you wish to do it our way, then that will be that."

"What do you mean?" She asked tentatively, though she was quite certain that she knew exactly what he meant.

"We shall be choosing your suitor for you. It shall be an arranged marriage, and you will not argue about it. Not with your mother and I, and certainly not with whichever gentleman we select for you. Is that clear?"

It was crystal clear, of course, and she hated it. At least the duke had given her a say in the matter. She had expected to be turned away at the door, or at least some sort of dispute, but she hadn't expected to be welcomed in and told exactly what was to happen to her.

She did not trust her father's judgment, not one bit. He was skeptical about her reputation, and would undoubtedly find the first gentleman to look in her direction and choose him, even if he was twice her age and never bathed. That would be no matter to him, and her mother would not argue.

"Might I be allowed to choose?" She asked.

"What part of you not arguing with me do you not understand? I will be making my selection, and you will nod and thank me for everything that I have done for you. If you do not like that, then you are welcome to leave once more and we will go back to how things were. I know that I was certainly happy with such an arrangement."

"Charles-"

"No, Nancy," he hissed, "She has done everything in her power to bring shame upon us, and now that she has succeeded and wants to change her fortunes she is back. I am being gracious enough in playing the role of her father once more. I will not be taken for a ride a second time."

"I know, dear, but is this fair?"

"I do not give a damn about what she considers fair! I wanted an heir, and instead I got a daughter. I decided that was fine, and that I could at least find a way to increase our connections in marrying her off, but she was adamant not to allow that."

"But all I did was hide away and read," Olivia sighed, "I kept out of your way, save for the one mistake that I ever made, and it still was not enough."

"It was those books in the first place," he snarled, "They gave you ideas about love and other such nonsensical things, and now you expect more than what is possible. It is selfish, and I am putting a stop to it now."

Olivia looked to her mother, but whatever bravery she had in telling her husband to be kinder seemed to melt away from her and she didn't look either of them in the eye.

"Now," her father said with a sigh, "I have given you my two expectations. Will you meet them, or will you be on your way?"

She wanted to say no, but it was not as though she had another choice. After all, where would she go?

"Yes, Father," she whispered, nodding, "I will meet them."