And so they played cribbage, not talking much beyond the needs of the game, but to Olivia it felt for the first time as if Lord Embleton was courting her, or at least seeing her as a person worthy of his attention. And she would not be human if she did not glory just a little in the undivided attention of a future duke. So when she woke early the next morning, she sat down at the small writing table in her room, and dashed off a whole series of letters to Mama, Aunt Alice, Aunt Jane and Josie, to reassure them that she and Papa were well, and mentioning, quite as an aside, that Lord Embleton had talked of his family home to her at some length. There was not much else to say of the marquess, but she knew her relations would be amused by Osborn’s funny little sayings, for he was vastly entertaining. That filled the rest of the letters most satisfactorily, and she went down to breakfast in a cloud of virtuous awareness of a duty well completed.
Papa was still a little downcast, but the prospect of another day at the river brought a smile to his face when Osborn suggested it.
“Embleton?” Osborn said. “Would you care to fish again, or shall I open up the gunroom for you?”
“You are to ride w-with Effie this m-m-morning, I understand, K-Kiltarlity, in which case I shall ride with you. That g-girl needs to be watched. Is she not usually d-down by this t-time?”
“She is, yes,” Olivia said. “Shall I go up and see what is keeping her? Perhaps she is having a tray in her room this morning.”
But before this impulse could be acted upon, loud voices were heard outside, and the butler entered in some dismay.
“Whatever is it, Winthrop?” Osborn said, frowning a little at the unseemly disruption.
“My lord… I am afraid that—” He glanced at Lord Embleton. “It is the Lady Euphemia, my lord. She went riding this morning, and naturally a groom went with her, but…”
Lord Embleton set down his coffee cup with a crash. “Tell me the worst, Winthrop. Where has she gone?”
“To Lochmaben, my lord. The groom could not catch her to stay the horse, and once she was there, she declared that she would not return here. She sent him back with a letter for you, my lord.”
“A letter? Where is it?”
“He has instructions to deliver it into your own hands, my lord. He is in the hall now.”
They all trooped into the hall, where the groom, wild-eyed with anguish, and muttering apologies repeatedly, handed over a note. Lord Embleton read it, then, with a growl, crumpled it into a ball and pressed it into Olivia’s hand.
“This is your fault! You truly are the most meddlesome female it has ever been my misfortune to encounter. Now look what you have done! Kiltarlity, you can lend me a horse, I am sure.”
He stamped away towards the stables.
The note was brief.‘Embleton, Since Olivia was so obliging as to remind me of the existence of Lochmaben, I have sought refuge there from your tyranny. Effie.’
Olivia shook her head in disbelief. It was so unfair! How could Effie’s wildness be laid at her door? And now that foolish girl had destroyed all Olivia’s hopes of Lord Embleton. Surely there could be no return from this final disagreement? She would never now be a duchess.
21: Quarrel And Reconciliation
Robert watched Olivia’s retreating back. Every instinct urged him to go after her, but he had Embleton to deal with, not to mention a very upset groom, sure that he was about to be turned off without a character for allowing Lady Euphemia to escape. By the time he had reassured the groom, urged the rest of the guests back into the breakfast parlour and arranged for a fast horse for Embleton, Olivia was long gone.
He searched methodically room by room, but it took him some time to discover that she was not in the house at all. Her maid discovered that a bonnet and cloak had been taken, so Robert fetched his own greatcoat and began a systematic search of the grounds.
She was pacing up and down a small clearing in the shrubbery, quite hidden from the house, head down, holding the cloak tight around her, for the air was chilling. Her face, usually smiling and happy, was pale and drawn.
“Olivia? Are you quite well?”
She stopped, looked up at him, then commenced pacing again. “I am quite well.”
Her voice was flat, and his heart went out to her. His poor Olivia! If only he could take her in his arms, purely to comfort her, as he would a sister… perhaps not quite as a sister, but she so badly needed comfort and yet he dared not offer it.
“I am so sorry,” he said quietly, feeling utterly helpless. “You were getting on so well with him, too. I truly thought—” But he could not,wouldnot put the thought into words.
She looked up at him then, a rueful little smile flickering across her face. “Oh yes! Last night… cribbage… and he talked about his house! That seemed so promising. But I shall never be a duchess now. So much for my foolish hopes.”
“Not foolish!” he said, although the words almost stuck in his throat.
The head dropped again as she paced, this way and that across the clearing, slowly and without purpose. “You are very kind to say so, but I do not think Lord Embleton ever saw me in a romantic light. He has not a romantic nature, I suspect, so there was never the least possibility that he would fall in love with me.”
“How could he not?” Robert cried, before he could stop himself. She looked up at him then, her lips parted in surprise. And somehow, he could not say how, for he had not intended it, the words tumbled out of him in an unstoppable flood. “Livvy, you must not despair, for you are the most lovable girl in the Kingdom, and even if Embleton does not see it, there are plenty who do.Ido, for one. I can never make you a duchess, which is what you deserve to be, for no one could grace such a position more than you, but if you think you could put up with only being a countess, then marry me instead. You are so good for me, Livvy, for you always know what to do with the estate business, and you make me feel it is not so onerous… that perhaps one day I shall be able to manage it without becoming blue-devilled.I would love to play cribbage with you, whenever it pleases you, and I know you like Strathinver and you get on with Mama and my sisters, and heaven only knows, I never thought I would find anyone who would. Izzy never did and—”
“Izzy!”she hissed. “It is always aboutIzzy, not about me, because how could I ever compare with the Incomparable? So beautiful, so witty, so clever, soeverything,while I am nothing but a shadow of her!”
