Chapter 14

When Olivia returned to the Blue Room, a cheery fire roared in the grate and beeswax candles in chambersticks and candelabras

illuminated every corner and tabletop. The finely woven wool blankets atop her mattress tick had been turned down, the velvet

curtains had been loosed from their holdings, and her nightclothes had been pressed and draped over the chaise lounge.

She dropped her shawl on the high-backed chair next to her bed and stood for a moment, allowing the silence and soothing glow

of saffron light to soothe her frayed senses. Somehow she'd managed to successfully navigate her first dinner at a house party

without any glaring mishaps. What was more, she'd been able to talk with Mr.Avery.

With a satisfied yawn she unclasped the Vinci necklace and held it, admiring yet again the way the fire's light sparkled against the intricately cut angles. The more she considered her conversation with Mr. Avery, the more it was oddly gratifying that he noticed it and appreciated it in the same way she did. In fact, speaking with him was not nearly as uncomfortable as she'd anticipated. He'd been cordial. Personable. But wasn't that the Averys' gift? To make others feel comfortable and then take advantage?

Mrs.Milton interrupted her musings by appearing in the doorway to the dressing room, shattering the thought that she was

finally able to be alone for the night.

Teague followed her, still fully dressed in her daytime attire.

"You were speaking quite familiarly with that young man," Mrs.Milton proclaimed as she crossed the threshold. "Mr.Avery,

was it? I wasn't aware you'd been introduced."

Olivia carefully chose her words. "I am acquainted with his family."

Mrs.Milton's wrinkly cheeks colored, and she huffed in disgust, if not anger. "How exactly are you acquainted?"

Olivia flicked her eyes toward Teague in search of some sort of assistance or explanation, but found none. "His father and

my father were business associates many years ago."

"So he knows of your expertise," Mrs.Milton surmised sharply.

Olivia could only nod.

"Will he deduce why you're here?"

"I—I don't know."

"You said a business associate," she blurted. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Olivia selected her words with care. "Our fathers were once business partners, but they separated more than a decade ago.

His father, Timothy Avery, died earlier this year, but Mr.Lucas Avery now operates Avery & Sons."

"I knew I recognized that name!" She flung the words almost like an accusation. An enraged expression darkened her eyes, and Mrs. Milton began to pace. "The insolence! I know what he's doing. I know. "

Confused at the odd reaction, Olivia attempted to follow her meaning. "Mr.Avery?"

"No. My nephew. He clearly has invited Mr.Avery to sell my husband's collection."

Hoping to calm the agitated woman, Olivia lowered her voice. "It is possible that Mr.Avery is simply an acquaintance? From

what I observed he seemed to be quite friendly with everyone, and I—"

"No, no," Mrs.Milton snapped. "George sees only money, not the time, the effort that has gone into making Cloverton Hall

what it now is."

Olivia wanted to offer comfort, but what could she do? Or say?

In truth, she had no doubt that was exactly what Mr.Avery was doing. The relationship between Brannon Antiquities and Cloverton

Hall died with her father, and since then every antiquities dealer had been vying for a foothold to the infamous collection.

Clearly Mr.Avery was building a rapport with Mr.Wainbridge.

The older woman pointed a podgy finger in Olivia's direction. "You must find out what he is doing here."

"Me?" Olivia's hand flew to her chest. "Oh, I couldn't. I'm certain he's—"

Mrs.Milton's aggressive visage silenced her.

It seemed an impossible request. Making such inquiries of Mr.Avery would result in disaster, but whether she liked it or

not, she had no choice but to appease Mrs.Milton. She needed to stay in the lady's good graces to ultimately be successful

and reach her goal of being self-sufficient. "I'll find out what I can."

Commotion sounded, and as Tabitha entered the chamber, the tension eased.

Mrs.Milton's countenance softened. "Tomorrow morning I'll introduce you to my collection, and tomorrow afternoon and evening

there will be activities that, unfortunately, require both our attendance. Consider what I've said, and don't forget it. I'll

bid you good night, then." Mrs.Milton, followed by Teague, retreated through the paneled door, leaving Olivia and Tabitha

alone in the Blue Room.

Olivia was in no mood for conversation as Tabitha helped her doff her gown, let down her hair, and wash her face. Once Tabitha

had departed, Olivia extinguished the candles, and the only light that remained was the simmering fire in the grate and the

slivers of white moonlight that filtered through the gaps around the curtains. Otherwise, all was silent and dark and still,

save for the occasional burst of masculine laughter emanating from the floor beneath her chamber.

She crawled atop the soft mattress tick. Her body called for rest, but her mind was alive with all she'd witnessed.

The evening had spun by at such an alarming pace. Dazzling beauty and magnificent manners. Intriguing chatter and intoxicating

elegance. She'd tasted champagne. A gentleman had flirted with her. She'd been treated as an honored guest.

Yet homesickness crept in.

The Blue Room seemed extravagant. The voices from below were disquieting. Furthermore, her encounter with Mr.Avery had revived

memories that had long lain dormant—memories of her father, of her family. Of how events had converged to get them all to

the point where they were today.

Her greatest childhood desire had been to travel with her father to all of the exotic places he had visited, like her mother had done when Olivia was young. China. India. Egypt. Her mother's stories had fueled Olivia's imagination, and she had determined that she would be exactly like her mother.

But then Olivia's mother had died.

And then her father had died too.

With each loss, her world shifted, and the luminous dreams that once had blazed before her faded to lackluster hopes. Now

she'd likely never travel to Egypt or India. Her father's business was barely surviving, and if it weren't for Mr.Milton's

strong relationship with Father years ago, she might never have even been offered this opportunity.

But she'd made it to Cloverton Hall and survived her first day. And the fact that she was here to assess antiquities in some

way made her feel closer to her parents than she had in a very long time. It was a chance to prove herself.