Chapter25
Olivia could die of mortification. She could admit that her pride caused problems for her at times. But this—this was cruel.
Her steps slowed as she entered the drawing room to gather with the other guests before dinner. All around the space, the canvases from earlier that day were displayed—lovely depictions of the pond and the forest, the gardens and the topiaries, all painted by artists who had been instructed, at least informally, in the art of watercolor.
And then there was her painting of roses.
Chatter and laughter abounded around her. It felt as if everyone must be staring at her sad representation. Surely her face had flushed as florid as the salmon-colored gown she wore.
A light gloved hand rested on her arm, and she turned to see MissHaven. A gown of chartreuse silk adorned the lady’s graceful frame, and her flaxen hair was elegantly styled up in curls and twists. She fixed her brilliant cornflower-blue eyes on Olivia, and a smile curved her lips. “Did you enjoy the painting earlier today, MissBrannon?”
“I did.” Olivia turned away from her easel, trying to pretend her hideous painting was not in the room. “And you?”
“Oh, I always enjoy time spent with Mr.Romano. He’s nothing short of a genius! Now that you’ve seen him work, do you not agree?” MissHaven linked her arm through Olivia’s and directed her along the line of easels, then paused in front of MissStanley’s piece. “See how MissStanley captured the sunlight reflecting there on the pond? Just lovely.”
MissHaven dropped her hand and intimately lowered her voice. “I am glad I have a moment to speak with you privately, for I wanted to follow up with you on our conversation from last night.”
Olivia’s stomach tightened, and she steeled herself for what she would hear.
“Mr.Fielding was watching you paint earlier today. I daresay he’s quite smitten.”
The mention of Mr.Fielding added to Olivia’s increasing trepidation. His attention had, at times, been flattering, but now it seemed bothersome, even superfluous.
“I heard him tell Captain Whitaker that you were spellbinding. Could there be a more romantic sentiment?” MissHaven continued eagerly, as if divulging a great secret. “I took it upon myself to speak with him on your behalf.”
Olivia shook her head. “Oh no, MissHaven, I really wish you—”
“Do not thank me. I told him that you and he would make a fine match, and I encouraged him to pursue it. Is that not wonderful?”
Olivia’s face burned as she looked to the man in question, who was standing at the far side of the chamber speaking with Mr. Avery.
For the first time since she arrived, she truly did not know what to say. She’d managed to handle every odd instance and erratic request to this point, but this—the idea of flirting and making amatchwith a man she’d met two days prior—was too much.
MissHaven, excited and bubbly, pressed a kiss to Olivia’s cheek and spun on her heel, completely unaware of the turmoil that she had incited.
Or perhaps she was completely aware.
Olivia could only stare at MissHaven as she retreated to speak with Mr.Wainbridge and the captain.
All around her, the guests were laughing, chattering, conversing. How was one to respond in such a situation?
In that moment she felt more alone, more like an outsider, than at any other point.
She barely noticed when Isabella appeared at her side.
“You appear as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Olivia’s breath shuddered, and she looked to Isabella’s sympathetic dark brown eyes.
“Let’s walk.” Isabella took her arm and guided her away from the other guests to the open veranda doors, where the drawing room opened up to the back gardens where they had just passed the afternoon. A few of the chaperones were on the veranda, but otherwise they were alone. “I couldn’t help but overhear MissHaven’s declarations. About Mr.Fielding. She wasn’t exactly being discreet, was she?”
Once they reached the balustrade, Isabella leaned against the railing. “That was uncalled for, but I’m not surprised. It’s notthe first time she has acted in such a way. I do believe she feels threatened by you.”
“By me?” Olivia laughed. “Believe me, there is no reason for her to feel threatened.”
“Is there not?” Isabella arched her brow. “MissHaven considers my brother a suitor, but I think she worries he will find you more interesting.”
Olivia scoffed and gazed back to the blonde beauty. “She is quite mistaken.”
