“Atherton,” Victor cautioned, though his tone remained light.
“Apologies,” Lord Atherton said, glancing at the ladies. “War stories are hardly appropriate dinner conversation.”
Caroline leaned forward, her interest piqued. “Nonsense. I find them fascinating. The duchess must be curious about her husband’s heroics.”
Olivia noticed the slight tightening of Victor’s jaw. She sensed dangerous ground.
“I prefer to look forward rather than backward,” she said smoothly. “Though I’m grateful to all who served, including my husband and Lord Atherton.”
Victor’s eyes met hers briefly, a flicker of gratitude passing between them.
The dinner proceeded through several courses, conversation flowing more easily as the wine was poured. Olivia maintained her composure, playing the gracious hostess despite Caroline’s occasional pointed remarks about her sudden entrance into society as a duchess.
It was during dessert that Olivia felt her first true test approaching. Caroline had turned the conversation to a mutual acquaintance—the very artist who had painted Olivia’s scandalous portrait.
“His exhibitions have caused quite a stir in certain circles,” Caroline said, watching Olivia carefully. “He has a remarkable talent for capturing his subjects’ ... essence.”
Lord Atherton’s expression shifted slightly. “Reynolds. The name sounds familiar. Wasn’t he that artist who frequented the French embassy events before the peace?”
Victor’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Indeed? I wasn’t aware his connections were so ... international.”
“Oh yes,” Caroline continued, oblivious to the sudden interest from the men. “Always sketching at diplomatic functions. Said he found ‘political faces most revealing.’ ThoughI daresay some subjects reveal more than others.” Her gaze slid meaningfully to Olivia.
Lord Atherton cleared his throat. “I believe he departed rather suddenly for the Continent some months ago. Most curious timing, just as the Home Office began investigating certain information leaks.”
Olivia’s fingers tightened around her dessert fork, her appetite vanishing. Was there more to Reynolds’ sudden disappearance than the need for coin?
Caroline’s lips curved in a predatory smile. “I must say, I was surprised to hear of your marriage, Your Grace,” she said, addressing Olivia with false sweetness. “Especially after all that unpleasantness with Mr. Reynolds’ recent exhibition. They say one of his paintings bore a striking resemblance to a duke’s daughter.”
A tense silence fell over the table. Lord Atherton shifted uncomfortably while Victor remained perfectly still, his face betraying nothing.
“I suppose you would know all about Mr. Reynolds’ work,” Olivia replied, her temper finally slipping its leash, “being so familiar with common gossip. Tell me, Lady Atherton, is it the provincial upbringing that makes you so fascinated with others’ affairs, or merely a lack of substance in your own life?”
Caroline’s face flushed crimson, and Lord Atherton coughed into his napkin. Victor’s gaze found Olivia’s across the table, his expression revealing nothing to their guests but speaking volumes to her. She had failed her first test.
When the Athertons finally departed, Olivia stood in the entrance hall beside Victor, her smile fixed until the door closed behind them.
“That went well enough,” she said, turning toward the stairs.
Victor’s hand closed gently but firmly around her wrist. “Did it?”
Olivia’s heart skipped. “Caroline Atherton was deliberately provocative. Surely you noticed.”
“I noticed,” Victor confirmed, his voice deceptively calm. “Just as I noticed your response.”
“What would you have had me do? Stand mute while she all but accused me of posing for scandalous paintings?” Olivia challenged.
“I would have had you maintain control over yourself,” Victor replied. “Not sink to petty insults.”
The truth of his words stung. Olivia had indeed lost her composure, reacting precisely as Caroline had intended.
“Come,” Victor said, leading her not toward the stairs but to a side room. A small library she hadn’t yet explored.
He closed the door behind them, leaning against it as he studied her. “You broke one of our rules tonight.”
“Which rule was that?” Olivia asked, though she knew perfectly well.
“You failed to comport yourself with dignity in public,” Victor said. “Lady Atherton was testing you, yes. But how you respond to such tests reflects on our house. And on how society will continue to see you.”
