Chapter21
The Cavesee Vase.
If Mr.Avery was right, it would be through the gallery doors.
The giant vase, with its bright white background and the vibrant cobalt dragon wrapping around the entire circumference, had been her father’s prized acquisition.
After all these years, Olivia was about to see it once again.
Dinner was complete, and all the guests were gathering for the concert, but music was the furthest thing from her mind as she stepped into Cloverton’s gallery.
Then she saw it.
Her heart fluttered, and all else faded—the drama, the discomfort, the awkwardness. This glimpse of one of the largest pieces of chinoiserie in the country was a reward for her perseverance. It was perched on a sturdy, broad shelf in the gallery’s southeast corner, away from any possible disturbances.
Unable to resist, she looked over her shoulder to find Mr.Avery not far behind her. The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. And he bowed his head slightly.
In that brief space of time, she felt more connected to him than she’d felt to anyone in a long time. The look that passed between them communicated esteem for something beyond themselves, of which no one else knew.
“MissBrannon!”
Olivia jerked at her name—the abruptness of which shattered the bubble she shared with Mr.Avery.
She turned to see Mr.Fielding approaching. In spite of his churlish conversation at the previous dinner, the tall, thin man did cut a striking figure in his bister wool tailcoat. His dark auburn hair was slicked back into place, and his meticulous sideburns framed his high Romanesque nose. “What are you doing over here all alone?”
She looked back to the Cavesee Vase. “I was just admiring this vase. Isn’t it remarkable?”
The apathetic simper on his long face faded as he joined her in viewing the porcelain. “Yes, it’s very interesting. Interesting indeed. And are you fond of exotic things like this?”
“Exotic things?” she gibed, attempting to downplay her amusement at his assessment. “I am. Very fond.”
He hesitated, as if unsure what to make of her interest. “Well, the old man seemed fond of it, didn’t he? He gave it the place of honor. There, on a shelf.”
Olivia was gratified to know secrets that few others knew. She might not be acquainted with as many social graces as the other ladies, but she did have an area of expertise. And she was proud of it. What would this man say if he knew exactly how much this piece was worth?
“I was dismayed that we weren’t seated together at dinner tonight.” Mr. Fielding turned away from the vase and faced the others in the room, who were gathering around the chairs and instruments that had been set up for their concert. “I’d quite hoped to continue our conversation from the previous night.”
“Oh?”
“I find you intriguing, MissBrannon.”
His expression seemed genuine, but his words rang hollow, as if they’d been practiced or, even worse, spoken before in a similar situation.
Whatever his intention, she would play the part. “Intriguing? How kind. But I daresay you only feel that way because you do not know me. I am a novelty, am I not?”
He laughed, the pitch of which rang unnaturally high, and wagged his forefinger in the air. “There, you see? Your candor. I’m inexplicably enticed by it.”
He was flirting with her. And it was... surprisingly flattering.
“Did you enjoy your day today?” he continued.
The day flashed before her with all of its variety and unexpected occurrences, both pleasant and incongruous, but she merely smiled. “I did. It was a very pleasant day, sir. I understood the men were out on a hunt today. Were you successful?”
“Well, let’s just say that no pheasant met its fate by my hand,” he japed, and then he leaned closer as if to whisper a secret. “I’ve heard the ladies have organized a concert tonight. And how will you be entertaining us? Wait, let me guess.” He tilted his head to the side and assessed her. “The harp?”
Olivia looked back to the bank of windows on the north wall, under which the candlelit pianoforte and harp were positioned, and endeavored to appear unaffected. “I hate to disappoint, Mr. Fielding, but I’m not participating. I’m an eager spectator, that is all.”
He reeled back in emphatic disagreement. “Oh, now that I cannot agree to.”
