Olivia woke late, with heavy eyes and throbbing temples, as if she had not slept at all. Harper, Lady Esther’s own maid, was bending over her, shaking her.
“Wake up, my lady, do, or you’ll be late for breakfast. Lady Esther’s already gone down.”
“What? Goodness, look at the time!” The bed beside her was empty. “Even Lady Euphemia is up before me today.”
She tumbled out of bed, and raced across to the washstand for a hasty wash. That was when she noticed the letter propped up on the dressing table.‘Olivia’, it said, in Effie’s distinctive scrawl.
“What is this?” she said, but the maid only shrugged.
Tearing open the seal, Olivia read the note.
‘My dear Olivia, I am so sorry about the milk but I hope you wake none the worse for it. You will understand the necessity when I tell you that by the time you read this, I shall have run away—’Olivia squeaked in alarm.‘—with Julian Grayling. There is no need to tell Embleton if you had rather not, for we shall be travelling fast enough that he will never catch us, and I will write to him when I arrive. You need not fear for me, gentle friend, for I know what I am doing. I have my maid with me, and also the footman that Papa insists upon, so I amvery comfortable and hope to have a great deal of fun on the journey. Thank you for making my brief stay in Briar House bearable. No doubt we shall meet again in the spring. Your very good friend, Effie.’
“Oh no!” Olivia cried. “Harper, go and find Lady Esther and bring her here at once. Mr Franklyn, too.”
“But—”
“At once, Harper! There is not a moment to lose!”
Olivia wrapped herself in a robe, and then paced about the room frantically until the door opened again. To her relief, both the Franklyns appeared with Harper.
“My dear, are you ill? Whatever is it?” cried Lady Esther, her usual serenity quite absent for once.
“Read this,” was all Olivia said.
Quickly they scanned it, Mr Franklyn looking over his wife’s shoulder.
“Oh, my goodness! They have eloped!” Lady Esther said fretfully. “And I am supposed to be chaperoning the girl.”
“You cannot be blamed if she takes off in the middle of the night,” Mr Franklyn said. “Olivia, what does this mean about the milk?”
“She must have drugged me… a sleeping draught in the milk. I woke terribly late, so they must be long gone.”
“Nevertheless, they must be pursued. I will go at once to speak to Lord Embleton so that he may decide how best to manage this. I shall, of course, place myself at his disposal, if he wishes it. We were in some way responsible for the girl while she was under this roof.”
Lady Esther collapsed onto the bed with a groan. “An elopement! It is of all things the most damaging to a girl’s reputation. We must be several days from the border, and how she is to be salvaged from this imprudence, I cannot imagine. She is ruined, quite ruined!”
“Only if it becomes known,” Mr Franklyn said. “Besides, there is no mention in the letter of elopement or Scotland. They may have a much closer destination in mind. Let us hope for the best. But we must be very careful not to start rumours flying. Leave this to me to deal with, while you ladies employ yourselves just as usual. You must give no hint in your demeanour that there is anything untoward afoot. Esther, I know you can rise to the occasion magnificently.”
Lady Esther sat up a little straighter. “Of course, of course. And the first thing we must do is to get you dressed, Olivia. Away you go, Mr Franklyn, to see Lord Embleton. Leave everything else to us.”
***
Robert arrived at Pelham House to see Lord Embleton so early that no one was up except the servants, who were sent into a flap by so unexpected a visitor. He was shown into a chilly, little-used parlour where a fire was hastily lit, and footmen scurried about fetching decanters, then pots of coffee and chocolate, and finally, a basket of breakfast rolls.
After some little time, a more superior servant appeared.
“I am Hoodley, my lord, Lord Embleton’s valet. His lordship has sent me to enquire as to the urgency of your business with him this morning, and to invite you to step upstairs to his dressing room if the matter is particularly pressing.”
“No, indeed. Not the least need. I wished only to be sure of catching him before he went out for the day.”
“Very good, my lord.”
The valet bowed, and went away again, leaving Robert to drink coffee and nibble Bath buns and hope that the marquess was not one of those finicky fellows who spent half the morning tinkering with his cravat. In the event, it was no more than halfan hour before he appeared, full of apologies for keeping Robert waiting, and since Robert felt obliged to apologise for being so early, they said little else for some minutes.
Eventually, however, Robert was able to discharge his errand, and explain that Olivia had been right in suspecting that Lady Euphemia and Grayling were secreted away in private.
The marquess listened politely, accepted that Olivia’s concern was real, and then said, “Even so, K-K-Kiltarlity, I c-cannot believe my sister was in any d-danger. She l-likes to f-f-flirt, Grayling l-likes to f-flirt — where is the harm? Grayling knows how f-f-far to go.”
