Olivia felt her mouth drop open in dismay.
“What do you mean?” Then, she remembered Eloisa’s old friend. “Is it Mr. Tombey?”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
“I have been seeing him—in the moments that I can. I do not know if it will become anything, yet. But it has been such a delight to enjoy someone again. To experience that excitement with a man—well, it has been quite a while for me, as you know.”
Olivia nodded. She did know. While her friend had not quite deprived herself completely in the years since Mr. Mapperton’s death, she knew that the trysts that Eloisa had engaged in had been undertaken for their discretion and emotional expedience. She had not wanted a man complicating her affairs—of the heart or otherwise. That Eloisa was open to such a liaison meant that things were changing indeed.
“So you see, I cannot judge you for your own conduct, or worry too much what sort of pall it might cast over the Mapperton name.”
Olivia smiled. “I suppose not.”
“I only warn you against getting hurt, Olivia,” Eloisa said, her eyes clouding with concern. “My affair with Mr. Tombey—it is simple. I am a widow, and he is a man with no one to answer to. I know it is not the same with your earl. I do not want to see you compromise yourself for his comfort. Once you are his wife, you cannot take it back.”
“I know,” Olivia said, “That is why I have resolved on this step first. The one thing I need is time. Time to think over whether I could really be his wife. Or if there might be some other way.”
Eloisa nodded and took another sip of her port.
“If anyone can find it, Olivia, it would be you.”
*
Olivia—
After the wedding this morning, I have a surprise for you.
If you assent, once the happy couple have departed, I will show it to you.
Augustus
*
It had beennearly four days since she had been alone with Augustus. He had called only once since their night together, and they had spoken of mundane topics in front of the Mappertons. After the intensity of their coupling during the snowstorm, and their agreement to move forward in this way, they both seemed tentative. It was not that she desired him any less than she had, or loved him any less—and, when he had called, his eyes had still burned with the same intensity when he looked at her. Rather, it was as if they both knew the moment was a delicate one and neither wanted to make a wrong move.
Now, he had sent this missive. She was not sure what to expect—what surprise he had waiting for her. Nevertheless, she wrote out an affirmative response and gave it to the maid immediately to send back to him. If the messenger made haste, Augustus would receive her answer well before he had to leave for the church.
It was the morning of Natasha and Percy’s wedding and Mapperton House was overset with preparations. While Olivia was concerned with what Augustus had planned for her, she couldn’t dwell on it. She wanted to make herself useful to Natasha and Eloisa before such a climactic moment.
Hastily completing her own toilette, she departed her bedchamber and made her way to Natasha’s. When she opened the door, the elegant space was in a flurry of activity. Mrs. Warburton, the most fashionable modiste of theton, had made Natasha’s dress. The lady herself and her phalanx of servants filled the room. Beautiful fabrics seemed to flash from every corner. Such was the vibrancy of their presence that, at first, Olivia did not notice Natasha standing on a dais in front of a full-length mirror.
When she did see her, she gasped in admiration. Natasha had always been a beauty, but here, on her wedding day, she was radiant. She was wearing a simple white gown with a net covering that glimmered with silver; her hair was arranged around a tiara that, Olivia knew, belonged to the Carringtons. Augustus’s grandmother had brought it into the family when she had married his grandfather some fifty years ago. Now, it sparkled in Natasha’s dark hair, matching the happy gleam in her eye. And there, glimmering on her neck, was the simple gold necklace that had come from Eloisa’s mother. It had been the only valuable that her mother had ever owned, but she had taken it all the way from India to the West Indies and then Eloisa had taken it from the Caribbean to England and then France and back again. After today, it would belong to the Honorable Mrs. Percy Carrington.
“Natasha, you just might be the most beautiful bride I have ever seen.”
The girl blushed.
“Thank you, Olivia. I wouldn’t want to disappoint, after all, at St. George’s.”
“No,” her mother said dryly, from the side of the dais, and Olivia turned to view her friend for the first time. “We couldn’t have that.”
Eloisa looked very beautiful as well, Olivia thought. She was arrayed in a simple lilac dress which managed, somehow, to be both extremely becoming and matronly enough to befit her role.
The next hour passed in conversation and last-minute arrangements to Natasha’s wardrobe. Soon, however, they were entering the carriage that Percy had sent for his bride, one spacious enough to accommodate all four of them much more comfortably than their own.
Olivia noted how handsome Nathanial looked in his formal wear. She found it touching how serious he looked in his attire—and nervous, too, for the role he was about to play in front of London high society. Walking his sister down the aisle at one of the biggest social events of the year was quite a feat for a young man who had been at the fringes of this world only a few months prior. Olivia would have been peaked herself.
When they arrived at the church, she and Eloisa left her children to their task. Eloisa gave her daughter a swift kiss on the cheek and whispered something in her ear. Natasha beamed at her mother and squeezed her hand. Then, she and Eloisa made their way to the Carrington family pew, from which they would watch the ceremony.
