They told Eloisaand Nathanial first, over dinner the next evening. Nathanial looked so relieved—and Olivia had to admit that she was surprised by her young friend’s degree of investment in her relationship with Augustus.
“Were you afraid our relationship would become common knowledge, Nathanial, and it would ruin your pursuit of Miss Wallis?” she said to him slyly, while Eloisa tendered her congratulations to Augustus. “I did not know you could look so cheered.”
“You wound me, Olivia,” he said, with a warm smile, “No, it was not fear for my relationship with Miss Wallis. I flatter myself that such a thing would not disrupt her regard for me.” He straightened and blushed a little with this statement. His combination of pomposity and bashfulness was, she thought, truly endearing. “No, I was afraid you would refuse a man who loves you—and who can protect you. With Natasha married and—well—Miss Wallis and myself—and mother…” He trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. He was suggesting that he had been worried for her. He had worried what would become of her if the Mappertons each found love themselves.
“You shouldn’t have worried about me, Nathanial,” she scolded playfully, although, really, she was touched.
The young man shook his head. “You of all people deserve to be happy, Olivia.”
That night at dinner, which they hosted attheirtownhouse—even though, legally, it was hers, that is how she had come to think of it—they told his friends. His friends seemed to have expected it and congratulated them sincerely, even though Leith looked a little peaked. The man seemed a bit ill at ease that he would soon be the only one of his friends unmarried. He quickly seemed to adopt this status as a badge of honor, however.
“The last Rank Rake,” Leith said, during one of the many toasts that were had that evening, “To myself.”
Everyone had laughed, but Olivia could see his consternation was real, however he might try and hide it.
She was delighted by the warm reception, however, from Catherine and Henrietta.
“Monty said that you aren’t anxious to be a countess,” Catherine said to her, when they all sat in the drawing room after dinner, in a voice low enough that only she could hear, “And I just wanted to say that I felt just the same with John. At first, I was not sure how I would manage it all. Now, I forget about being a duchess most days, but I wanted to let you know that I understand the feeling.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said, appreciating Catherine’s sincere tone, even though she knew that it must have been much easier for the woman before her, a daughter of an old gentry family, albeit a scandal-ruined one, to see herself as a noblewoman. “I am not sure how we will arrange things now. Luckily, the Dowager Countess still sees to everything…I would not choose to change that, I must admit.”
Olivia had talked it over with Augustus; she wanted to stay in their new townhouse in Bloomsbury and ask his mother to continue in the role that she had inhabited for years. She did not need or want to be the mistress of Carrington Place, at least not yet. One day, she understood, it might be necessary, but not now.
“You should do,” Catherine said, touching her hand, “what makes you both happy.”
The next morning, when she and Augustus entered Carrington Place, she had her new coral engagement ring on her finger. He had gotten it reset, it seemed, in no time at all.
“I was very motivated, you see,” he said when he slipped it on in the carriage, “I need everyone, always, to know that you are mine.”
Now, they entered the drawing room where his mother and sisters waited for them. The Carrington women had no idea of their news, but that did not last for more than a minute. Petunia saw the ring on her finger.
“No! Is it true?” she cried, irrepressible as always, and reached for her hand. When they confirmed, Elizabeth cheered and Petunia clapped. Willa shook her hand, beaming.
The Dowager Countess was, of course, more demure than her daughters, but Olivia was relieved to see real happiness suffuse her expression.
“I cannot imagine a more perfect match for my son.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Mother,” Augustus said, coughing a little, she suspected, to cover his emotion. “We do want to discuss with you—”
“Of course, Carrington Place is yours, my love. I can move over to Periwinkle Circle with Elizabeth, Willa, and Petunia—”
“No, no,” Augustus said, his voice betraying his alarm at his mother’s suggestion, “We want you to stay here. At Carrington Place. All of you. I already have a townhouse where we will live—in Bloomsbury. Neither of us want to disturb you.”
While this sentiment was true, Olivia felt a pang at the dishonesty that she knew this utterance also contained.
“And it is not just that,” she forced herself to say, “You all know my origins. There will be those who object—”
“We will not listen to any of those people,” Petunia interjected, “If they say such things, they merely do not understand.”
“My daughter is right,” the dowager said, “The opinions of such people are not to be countenanced.”
“Thank you,” Olivia said. Their support was gratifying, but she still needed them to understand. “Nevertheless, it is Augustus that I love—” at this, he took her hand, “—not the notion of being a countess. I would be happier if we could live in a quieter way.”
“I see,” the dowager said, nodding her head, her expression inscrutable. Olivia hoped that she hadn’t offended her. “In that case, we will follow your wishes. What is important is that you are happy.”
Olivia could not be sure that the dowager was completely satisfied with this plan, but she was unsure why. Surely, it would be easier for her to stay in the life that she had always known than be disrupted. Nevertheless, she suspected that the dowager had thoughts she was not sharing. But she certainly did not dare to press her for her true feelings and Augustus seemed contented with his mother’s answer.
