Lady Esther smiled. This was such a rare event that Olivia barely recognised her. She looked almost approachable. “Ah, if only you weremydaughter! But I suppose with your mother away and your aunt confined to the castle by her unfortunate condition, there would be no objection if I were to… take you under my wing, so to speak. After all, Beatrice seems to have settled her own future, so now I am at a loose end. Should you like that? I believe I can help you achieve your ambition, Miss Atherton.”
“Even though I am not legitimate?”
“You are still the daughter of an earl with a respectable dowry, no doubt, and Olivia — may I call you by your name? — Olivia, you are as pretty as paint, you know. You have all your sister Isabel’s beauty and lively spirit, without her wayward turns, and you have a much, much better figure.”
“I am very fond of cake,” Olivia murmured, lowering her eyes.
Lady Esther laughed, an event so rare that Olivia wondered momentarily if she were about to have an apoplexy. But no,it was merely laughter. Leaning forward a little, she whispered into Olivia’s ear, “Gentlemen are attracted to a lady who is fond of cake.” Then, in a more normal voice, she went on, “Of course, it would not do to become positively fat, but you are very far from that state. Yes, you have a much better figure. There is a drawing on the wall over there that I should like to examine more closely, if you will be so good as to accompany me.”
Surprised but willing, Olivia crossed the room in Lady Esther’s wake.
“There! Now we cannot be overheard,” she murmured, her voice so low that Olivia had to strain to hear it. “I shall tell you something in the strictest confidence, Olivia. The ducal heir that Beatrice turned down was none other than Lord Embleton.”
“Then it is no use!” Olivia cried, before remembering to whisper. “If he is in love with Bea, he will not so much as look at me.”
“No, it is very much to the point, for a man who is already thinking of matrimony is ripe to fall into willing hands. He is not so very much in love with Beatrice, I fancy, but he believed her to be in love with him, that was what drove him to offer for her, and I know precisely what gave him the idea — she kissed him.”
“Oh! How very—”
“Forward of her? Yes, but that is Beatrice for you, and even though it was inadvertent in this case, it did the trick for it brought him straight to the point. So that is what you must do, when you meet him.”
“But how am I ever to meet him?” Olivia said in crushed tones. “He is about to begin his autumn round of visits to relations for the sporting season, and I am confined to the castle.”
Lady Esther smiled again. “Then we shall just have to bring him here, shall we not? I happen to know that he is staying with his sister, Lady Harraby, at Harraby Hall, which is three milesthis side of Thirsk. If I pen a brief note, just to express my regret that matters with Beatrice did not work out as we had hoped, I could perhaps mention that Lord Rennington is in low spirits just now after his recent difficulties and would undoubtedly be cheered by a visit from a fellow peer… that should do the trick.”
“But if he calls to see Papa, he will spend half an hour in Papa’s study and then go away again.”
“Now, now, where is your ingenuity? Naturally you will ensure that your butler apprises you of such a distinguished visitor, and you can find an excuse to join them. Then you invite him to dinner. He will be too polite to refuse.”
“He could come to our big party on Friday.”
Lady Esther winced. “With the entire neighbourhood ogling him? And Beatrice will be there, who has just refused to marry him. No, a quiet family dinner, that is what is needed so you have his full attention, and you will have an entire evening to get to know him.”
“And to kiss him?” Olivia said doubtfully.
“If the opportunity should arise,” Lady Esther said firmly. “A kiss is so definitive, is it not? A man cannot mistake one’s intent if one kisses him. It is better if the will to kiss should come from him, but one cannot wait for a man to realise what is needed or one might never get a husband. A lady must go out and seize her destiny in her own hands, Olivia, and I shall help you to do precisely that.”
Seize her destiny! How glorious that sounded! And perhaps, with Lady Esther’s guidance, Olivia would one day be a duchess.
2: Visits
Robert Osborn, Earl of Kiltarlity, threw down his pen in disgust. How was a man ever to make sense of these endless columns of numbers? And even if such a feat were possible, how could one then decide between the competing claims of his stewards? Three stewards maintained all his estates and holdings, one for the vast Strathinver estate here in Scotland, one for the smaller estates scattered like windblown seeds over the entire Kingdom and the third for the mines, quarries and investments. All of them claimed to have urgent matters requiring decisions, all of them clamoured for his attention, all of them made his head ache. How could he possibly decide?
Just at that moment, the hammering started up again. He groaned. Arms resting on the desk, he laid his head on them and wished… what did he wish? That this burden had never fallen onto his shoulders, primarily. With three older brothers, he had thought himself safe. He could live out his life in careless freedom, flitting from one amusing gathering to another like a bee in search of nectar, with nothing more to trouble him thanwhether to wear the blue waistcoat or the gold, or if he should attempt a more complicated knot in his neckcloth. But there was nothing amusing about being an earl.
“The mail has arrived, my lord.”
Robert groaned again, and raised his head. The hammering was so loud he had not heard the butler enter the room. “Another mountain of bills, I suppose, Winthrop.”
“I am sure there will be more pleasant missives, too, my lord. There is a letter from Mrs Haggerty. That should make you smile.”
“Ah, yes. Great-aunt Jessica always cheers me up. Anything else?”
“One from Lord Harraby, my lord.”
“Harraby! I have not heard from him in an age, not since—” Not since the last of his brothers had died and left him as the sole heir. Not since his world had collapsed into a nightmare of responsibility.
Rifling through the mound of letters, he found the one bearing Harraby’s neat franking signature, and tore it open.
