*
Olivia—
Common is the last thing that I would call you. In fact, I find youuncommonlybeautiful anduncommonlyinteresting. And when I think about you, which I must confess is frightfully often, I find myselfuncommonlyeager to see you again.
I would rather spend the evening with you than any other woman in the world. I have met many “fine ladies” and you would be surprised how many of them are very common indeed (and some of them are quite improper, as well, I can assure you—but that is neither here nor there, in my opinion). But they could be uncommon, too, and it wouldn’t matter to me. I only want you, whether you are common or not.
Please know I am perfectly serious. Allowing me to give you pleasure is the greatest favor you can bestow on me. I would never think less of you for it.
Augustus
*
“Courtingyou?” Eloisasaid over breakfast the next morning, her fork frozen between her plate and her mouth. Olivia had waited a whole day to reveal to the Mappertons the agreement she had made with Augustus because she had known this moment was coming. She did not relish having to explain her actions…or facing what would doubtlessly look to Eloisa like extreme weakness where the man in question was concerned. She knew she could explain what Augustus had told her, but that his explanation would sound implausible. She wasn’t even sure if she fully believed it herself. His expression had convinced her of his sincerity, but it still seemed so…outlandish. She feared that, in repeating his story out loud to Eloisa, she would sound deluded in the extreme.
“Percy’s brother?” Natasha asked, a note of alarm in her tone.
Nathanial gave, for his part, an exclamation of surprise. “Theearl?”
Olivia looked at all three Mappertons, who each seemed poised between shock and the impulse to hide it.
“Yes,” she answered, “To all three questions.” She moved to retrieve more kedgeree from the sideboard, just to have something to do. Eloisa always made sure that they had the dish. Her friend had told her once, long ago, that it reminded her of her mother, who used to make it for her in the West Indies when she was very small. The spices had reminded her of the country she had left behind. Usually, Olivia favored the dish, but this morning she could not focus on eating.
“He is taking me for a ride in Hyde Park, as it were,” Olivia continued, “He’ll be here shortly.”
She cringed internally. She had waited until the absolute last moment to tell the Mappertons and the lack of notice, she saw now, wasn’t helping the reception of her news.
“Percy will be here in moments for the same,” said Natasha, wonder in her words.
“Yes, I believe they will arrive together. In separate vehicles.”
“Perhaps I do not yet understand English customs,” Nathanial said, “But doesn’t courting usually lead to marriage?”
“It won’t,” Olivia said, then realizing how that sounded, she clarified, “I mean, I’m not sure if it will. If I will, I mean. If I want to.”
“Would you really turn down an earl, Olivia?” Natasha asked. “And what about Mr. Laurent?”
Olivia felt herself blush. Of course, Natasha and Nathanial knew about Mr. Laurent. “The earl has offered to court me. I did not leave France engaged to Mr. Laurent. I will decide…” Her eye strayed to Eloisa, who looked at perplexed as her children. “Which man I like best.”
“I see,” Natasha said. “Well, with all respect to Mr. Laurent, I can’t say that he is much competition for the earl. I am not sure what—”
“Natasha,” her mother said, in the bright, aggressive tone that she used when she was about to insist on having her way. “Lord Percy will be here soon. Please go and fetch your pelisse.”
“What? Mother, I already have—”
“Now,” Eloisa said, “And you can help her find the appropriate apparel, Nathanial. I want to speak with Olivia.”
“Mother! I am not done with my breakfast,” Nathanial objected.
“Now.”
Natasha sighed and swept from the room. Nathanial threw his serviette on the table and huffed out.
Once the door closed behind him, Eloisa turned to her. They were sitting at opposite sides of the breakfast table. She did not fear her friend, of course, but her gaze was nevertheless uncomfortable. It was the embodiment of her own conscience, staring back at her.
“You saw what happened on the balcony,” Olivia began, knowing that she needed no preamble. “And how he asked to speak with me. He came yesterday morning, while everyone else was still abed.”
“What could he have said to induce you to accept such a proposal? Courtship? A potential marriage? I do not understand.”
