“Hardly,” Natasha demurred, “Although I do love drawing.”
She directed her answer, it seemed obvious to Olivia, towards Percy, although Augustus smiled as if it were meant for him. The girl appeared as oblivious as Percy to the flirtation of the earl—but that did not mean she was safe. Olivia knew, after all, how powerful the attention of Augustus Carrington could be. She wouldn’t let Natasha be taken in, too.
“And what do you draw?” Percy asked. Olivia swore she saw his pupils dilate as he gazed on Natasha.
“Landscapes, mostly. And I confess that I am quite wild about poetry. I wish to create drawings that have the grace of poems. As of yet, I am afraid I have not been successful.”
“I am sure that is not true, Miss Mapperton. But I must ask—you’re an admirer of Wordsworth, perhaps?”
“Yes,” Natasha beamed, “I know many would see such a preference as all too common but nevertheless he is my favorite.”
“What think you of Byron, Miss Mapperton?” Augustus interjected. “Do you think we will soon get a new canto ofDon Juan? I must say that I am anticipating it quite keenly.”
Really, Olivia could throttle him.Byron. He might as well ask Natasha to be his mistress right here and now.
“I’m sure such reading feels quite exciting toyou,Lord Montaigne,” Olivia burst in, unable to help herself, “But Miss Mapperton is the sort of young lady who could hardly find an interest in such an author.”
“A young lady who loves poetry can surely appreciateDon Juan.”
“Not—not,” Olivia stuttered, her rage at a boiling point, “Miss Mapperton.”
“I understand,” Augustus said, looking a little chided. For a second, his gaze lingered on her. But, then, just as quickly, his eye returned to Natasha.
Olivia could kill Augustus Carrington and she shot him a look that she hoped showed it. Yes, she had grown up working in servants’ quarters, hearing comments that far outpacedDon Juanin ribaldry. But she had spent the past thirteen years in respectable French society and she knew, from her years working for the Carrington family, that the English upper classes were even more circumspect when it came to the education of young ladies. She would not let him jeopardize Natasha’s prospects with such loose talk. In any way.
“I confess I attempted to readDon Juanonce,” Natasha supplied, oblivious to Olivia’s turmoil, “But I must confess it bored me. Keats, however, captivates me.”
“Hopefully, you are not like hisbelle dame sans merci, Miss Mapperton, or the gentlemen of London may not recover,” Augustus nearly purred.
“I love ‘Endymion,’” Percy said, almost at the same moment. Given that Natasha’s eyes were already trained on Percy’s face, his brother’s comment was, thankfully, lost to Natasha’s exclamation of agreement. Olivia gave Percy credit for not saying aloud the first line of that poem—“a thing of beauty is a joy for ever”—although it was clear, from how he looked at Natasha, that he was thinking of it.
“Perhaps, if you love to draw, Miss Mapperton, I could take you out in my curricle—” Augustus broke in, heedless to the two young people’s absorption in each other.
Even years later, Olivia was not sure what possessed her at that moment. All she knew was that everything was hurtling out of control. She was determined not to let Augustus Carrington reach the end of his sentence.
She looked down at her cup of tea. Wisps of steam still drifted lazily up from its surface.
Olivia lifted her hand in an abrupt gesture, toppling the saucer, cup, and tea into Augustus Carrington’s lap.
For the second time that afternoon, Augustus Carrington brought the drawing room to silence—this time with a howl of pain.
Even Natasha and Percy had to take their eyes off one another at such a sound.
Now, Augustusdidlook at Olivia.
Yes, his eyes were quite riveted to her face.
Chapter Four
Olivia—
My most fervent apologies. I have enclosed a green ribbon and I hope it is to your satisfaction. I understand such things are a grave matter among ladies and, having four sisters myself, I know not to trifle about a ribbon or its color.
Augustus
*
Olivia—
