Marianne had arranged a small soirée for several local families that evening, to introduce Olivia to the local society. Final arrangements of flowers, refreshments and the positioning of furniture in the hall, fully occupied Marianne, while Olivia watched on. “Why have a minstrel's gallery if we never use it?” Marianne had said as she directed Mr. Parker to bring chairs for her guests into the hallway.
Olivia could tell from the expression on the butler’s face that he disapproved of this idea, however, Marianne was determined to have the small orchestra high above in the minstrel’s gallery.
So, leaving her friend fully occupied with arrangements for her soirée, Olivia took the opportunity to take a long walk, with the intention of going down the valley to find the stream.
Putting on a simple gown and carrying with her a blanket and her ever present pen and journal, Olivia set off accompanied by Marguerite.
The sun shone brightly at Leighton Manor, with a gentle southerly breeze. This felt more like late summer than autumn.She had left her warm woolen cloak at the house, hoping that the weather would not change. The sky was a beautiful blue, with not a cloud in sight.
The air was filled with the scent of the last damask roses of the season, carried on the breeze, as they were warmed by the sun. Her feet brushed against the boxwood edging the herb beds, and she inhaled the woody fragrance.
She had already walked several of the paths through the wood with Marianne, so she was familiar with them, but they had not yet made it as far as the stream.
As she closed the gate to the knot garden and entered the meadow, she saw the last traces of early morning mist evaporating lower down the valley.
There was almost a golden haze in the air as the mist evaporated, and the sun shone against the golden, rust-colored leaves on the trees lining the path leading toward the ancient Leighton woods.
She had always been happy to walk alone, enjoying quiet moments of reflection close to nature. Ellen was not a walker, and although she had gallantly offered to accompany her mistress, Olivia had taken pity on her and told her maid to stay at Leighton in case Marianne needed any help.
And I’m not alone, I’ve got Marguerite running beside me,thought Oliviaas the little dog enjoyed herself, sniffing along the path and dashing through the meadow.
As she entered the woods, the path became winding, and zig zagged down the valley sides. It was some time before Olivia could hear the sound of the stream. She called Marguerite, wanting the toy spaniel to stay close and not wander too far away.
She longed to be able to take off her shoes and silk stockings and revive her feet in the cool waters of the stream.
Not long to go now,she thought.
High above, the trees joined in a canopy of rich color. Olivia gazed up at a ceiling of green, yellow, orange, and brown, with muted shades of red. In a few weeks the tree branches would be bare, sleeping till the spring; but that day they were vibrant in their autumnal glory.
Olivia emerged into a clearing, where the stream formed a glistening dark pool, shaded by weeping willow trees, whose branches reached into the water. At the far end of the pool she heard water gushing loudly and was startled to see a cascading waterfall. She took a deep breath, gazing in awe at the beauty and force of the water. With a splash Marguerite was in the pool, the water rippling around her.
I wish I could jump right in, I’d better take my shoes and stockings off.
The forest was silent and serene. She gasped as she placed her feet in the cool waters of the pool, wriggling her feet and toes. Olivia closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the birds, feeling the cold water against the warmth of the rays of sun, somehow finding their way through the leaves of the trees above.
She ran her fingers through her hair, and for once didn’t notice the puckering of the skin at the side of her face, where she had lost a strip of hair. She felt wrapped in the serenity of the moment, oblivious to any noise around her.
When she opened her eyes she started at the sight of a roe deer, head bent to drink at the other side of the pool. When it lifted its head, she stayed very still, and it felt as though the doe had made eye contact.
Where are you going to? Do you come here every day to drink in this pool?
Olivia’s imagination took hold as she thought that perhaps this forest was close to the world of fairies.
Reluctantly taking her feet out of the water, Olivia spread a woolen blanket in a sun- speckled place under a willow tree, andtook out her notebook and a graphite pencil, ready to continue writing. She had been writing in her journal for three years and it had become her constant companion.
Since arriving at Leighton her writing had changed from being just a diary of her life and thoughts to include more from her imagination. She decided to continue the story of romance and mystery which she had begun the evening of her arrival.
Somehow the writing helped heal the loss of Jonathan too. He had chosen to end their engagement, although she would have been happy to live as a pauper with the man she loved, but duty to family had called him away. Soon after their engagement ended, he left England to tour Europe. That chapter of her life was over.
She would be content to be a maiden aunt to Jocelyn and, hopefully, Marianne’s children, yet in her writing she could create love which lasted, against all the odds.
The hero in my story will value love more than anything else, and there will be a happy ever after.
Her pencil moved across the page, jotting down ideas. The Duke of Northshire was handsome with intense dark eyes. He would soon meet the Honorable Daphne Rillington and sparks would fly.
Olivia became engrossed in her writing, oblivious to everything around her as the ideas flowed.
Suddenly, something made Olivia look up from her notepad. Her breath caught in her throat. Was she imagining the figure before her in the shadow of the oak tree? He seemed equally startled to see her.
