Olivia paused, looking thoughtful. “I suspect she had set her cap at Lord Hatfield. We spent time together that evening, and then when she spread the rumor, he comforted me. I believe she musthave been hiding in the shadows when we left the library and returned to the dancing.”
“There’s definitely a spark between the two of you,” mused Marianne. “I believe you have made a conquest there.”
“That might have been the case, but that must have changed now. He’s named as the man with whom I am having a liaison. I doubt he will ever want to be seen with me again.” Her breath caught in her throat and her voice faded away.
Jocelyn came over to her aunt and knelt in front of her taking Olivia’s hand in hers. “Livvie, I know there’s something more to this. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m just tired and a little out of sorts,” said Olivia, almost inaudibly.
“I agree with Jocelyn. There’s something which you’re not telling us. It seems to be the day for sharing secrets and we are your friends. If you’d rather not, then you know we are both here for you,” prompted Marianne gently.
Olivia stood up and walked over to the window. The door opened and a maid brought tea in and set it out on the table near the fire. She took slow and steady breaths, and her thoughts went spinning back to a day by a pool, the taste of wild strawberries, and the closeness of a man who made her heartbeat faster.
She returned to her friends and took a cup of the hot China tea swirling the cup around in her fingers. “You’re both quite right. I can’t easily hide anything from either of you.” She smiled and looked at Marianne, then Jocelyn in turn.
“I am going to share a story with you now. It’s an intensely private tale of a strange meeting in the Chiltern Hills.”
Marianne gasped. “When you were staying at Leighton Manor?”
Olivia nodded. She hesitated for a moment and then began to tell the two people who were closest to her, the tale of the first time she had met Marcus, Lord Hatfield.
They both listened intently and stared at her in disbelief.
“You didn’t know who he was?” queried Marianne.
“I thought he was a Mr. Brandon, a local farmer.”
Marianne laughed out loud. “Oh Olivia, I’m so sorry. It’s not that I think any of this is funny. I’m just imagining Lord Hatfield, who has always seemed a little haughty and aloof to me, as a local farmer.”
“I know, but I truly thought he was Mr. Brandon.”
“I think it’s romantic. You met in a forest glade. It’s like a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe. I just met Lord Ludlow in a house at a ball. How dull is that in comparison?” said Jocelyn.
“None of this matters anyway. We just spent time together and became…” Olivia hesitated before continuing, “I guess we became friends for a day.”
“You really didn’t know each other’s identity?” Said Marianne, bemused.
“No. I only realized when we met again in London. I never expected to meet Mr. Brandon again.”
“It is quite romantic,” persisted Jocelyn.
“Not really, but it was a pleasant day and I remember that I didn’t want it to end,” Olivia said, pausing again before revealing more of the story.
“He did call me Cinderella, well, Cendrillon in French. You know the character who disappears at midnight in Monsieur Perrault’s mysterious tale. I did disappear rather quickly that day.”
Marianne busied herself pouring them a second cup of steaming hot green China tea. She made a point of insisting they all take a honey cake.
“This really has been a day for sharing confidences—and that’s what these are. I’m delighted my dear that you had an adventure on a woodland walk. How strange that you should meet again several months later as Cendrillon and her handsome prince.”
“This story isn’t finished yet. There must be a happy ending,” insisted Jocelyn.
Olivia almost choked on her honey cake. “Jocelyn, that’s not the case at all.”
“I’ve listened very carefully to your story and that’s what I think. You deserve a fairy tale happy ending. We seem to be a long way from it at this point in time.” Jocelyn took a bite of the rich, buttery honey cake, savoring the taste.
“Now, what’s this I hear about Sir Jonathan Ellington reappearing in society. I hope he stays in the country and doesn’t make an appearance in town. Odious man,” said Marianne.
They heard voices outside in the hallway, and Olivia’s heart sank as she realized that Uncle Harold had returned home.
