Olivia sank wearily into a high winged chair, close to the fire, feeling the warmth on her fingers. She had clasped her hands so tightly together that there was a red mark where her thumbs had pressed into her skin.
She felt the soft brocade of the chair wrapping around her and closed her eyes, telling herself to relax and imagine a woodland walk, next to a stream, where she could smell the scent of pine trees on a warm spring day. This was her escape, her way of dealing with the reality of loss and the unpredictability of her Uncle Harold.
After a few minutes, Olivia opened her eyes and looked toward the gray clouds, as they moved across the darkening sky. The pull of the past was always strong, and she felt it then. Faces of her family and happier times.
We celebrated Christmas here, just days before the tragedy at Silverton Hall. There used to be so much laughter and love in our family.
Jocelyn, less than four years younger than Olivia, was a sister as much as a niece. Mary, Jocelyn’s mother, had become a friend to her and was as much a mother to her as she was to Jocelyn. Silverton Hall had been a happy place, with a staff who had stayed with them for many years.
Her brother had been devoted to the Silverton Estate, and the crops which brought prosperity and helped maintain the cottages of the farm workers.
How I long for those days. If only I could turn back the clock and be with my family again. I miss them every day with an aching sadness which is never far away.
As memories of that early January night crept into her thoughts, she pushed them away. It was no use, the tears which she had forced back in her uncle’s study welled up and streamed silently down her cheek. She wiped one away with her fingers and, running her fingers into her hair, felt the edge of the puckered,scarred skin. That night had taken away her family and changed her appearance forever.
I would have endured more scars, even across my face, if it meant I still had my family.
That loss made the loss of her beauty insignificant in comparison. Then there was Jonathan. He loved her, she knew in her heart that he loved her, but he had been forced to put family obligation and duty before love.
I’ll never marry. I’ll never have a man look at me in the way that Jonathan did, that night when he told me he loved me, and asked me to marry him.She lost herself in memories of an idyllic evening, after a ball at Silverton Hall, with the stars twinkling in the sky, when she lost herself in his eyes of Jonathan.
The shadows grew darker and the silver thread in the curtains sparkled brightly in this special room, which had become her sanctuary. She truly believed that Uncle Harold did not even know this small morning room existed.
The truth in his words had struck a chord.He’s right. I can’t stay at Swanbourne Place in town, or even live in the great house on the estate at Silverton, without his consent. Everything belongs to my uncle now.
She was practically penniless, her expected inheritance lost in some legal complications. Jocelyn had fared a little better. Her brother had ensured that his daughter had a substantial settlement which would come to her on marriage or at the age of twenty-three.
The prospect of marriage dismayed her. Who would want a scarred bride? Was it fair for any children of a marriage to have a mother who caused comments from strangers when they saw her face? It would be best if she simply disappeared into obscurity.
Tomorrow she would leave Swanbourne Place for a long-awaited visit to her friend, Marianne, Lady Leighton, whom she had met during her first season in London.
I’ll talk to Marianne about the future. She might have an acquaintance who needs a companion.
Despite what Uncle Harold had said, she needed to find a way to earn her own living. As soon as she had supported Jocelyn through her first season, she could look to her own future.
Once Jocelyn has found a husband, I can find a position as governess or companion and leave. I’ll go in disguise if necessary.
A gentle rapping at the door brought her back to reality. She opened it to find Mrs. Jennings carrying a tray with a teapot.
“A pot of tea and some of Cook’s special lemon cookies,” said Mrs. Jennings, with a look of concern. “I thought you needed something to cheer you up. I know it isn’t easy, with everything changed.”
Olivia took the housekeeper’s hand and pressed it gently. “Thank you, you always know when it’s difficult. He doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s just his way.”
Mrs. Jennings snorted and moved to pour two steaming cups of tea. “I still miss Lady Mary too. This morning room was her favorite place in the house. I don’t know what she would make of the way your uncle has behaved.”
“You know I can’t discuss it,” said Olivia quietly. “He is my uncle.”
“Of course. Now tell me about your visit to see Miss Marianne, I mean Lady Leighton,” she asked, keen to know about Olivia’s visit to Leighton Manor.
Olivia looked toward the window, seeing the rivulets of rain make patterns as they ran down the glass panes. She wished it was summer. As the days grew darker, leading up to theChristmas celebrations, the memories which haunted her grew stronger. She was glad her niece was staying with a friend in the North and would not return until November.
I don’t think I could have left Jocelyn here with Uncle Harold and I do so long to see Marianne again.
***
The next morning, the sun shone brightly, and its warmth filled the air. Olivia felt a sense of relief flooding her whole body, as she climbed into the barouche carriage, waiting to take her to the Buckinghamshire countryside.
A whole month! Four weeks away from Swanbourne and Uncle Harold.
