She sniffed. Redness rimmed her eyes. “Who knows where I’ll be this time next year?”
“Who knows where any of us will be in a year’s time? But you’re intelligent, resourceful, and possess one of the finest wits of anyone I know. It will all be fine in the end.”
“Will it?” she asked, turning her warm eyes up to him.
“It will.”
As he bowed and left her with her chaperone, fresh eagerness to return to London surged through him. It was true—he had no idea where he would be in a year’s time, but if Olivia were a part of his life, it would be well worth the wait.
Chapter35
The sun was finally shining on Kingsby Street when the Cloverton carriage turned onto the broad lane. The ever-present blanket of smoke swirled in the humid air, and the noisy sounds of a London afternoon met Olivia when the carriage pulled to a stop. She angled her head to see the shingle boasting the Brannon name through the window. Even though it was nowhere near as lovely as Cloverton Hall, there was something comforting about coming home to what was familiar. Normal life would resume.
“Is this your home?” Tabitha, eager-faced and bright-eyed, leaned forward to see through the mud-streaked windows.
“This is my family’s business. We live in the apartments above it.”
Memories of how she used to love coming to this shop with her father each day flooded her as her first foot stepped down to the dusty road. And even though she was excited to see Laura, reservation slowed her.
Uncle Thomas had been opposed to the entire endeavor. Russell had tried to talk her out of it as well. And while she hadcompleted her assessment and could provide her uncle and Russell with a thorough report, her professional prospects were no better off than when she left. If anything, she was worse off, for now she nursed a bruised ego and a wounded heart.
Olivia summoned her courage, placed her hand on the receiving room door’s brass handle, turned it, and stepped inside. A bell signaled her arrival, and shortly thereafter her uncle appeared from the back room through to the receiving parlor.
“You’re back.” His eyes held no warmth, his expression no affection. “We weren’t expecting you for at least another week.”
Russell, no doubt drawn by her uncle’s voice, also appeared. “So, how did it go?”
“It went well.” She feigned as much enthusiasm as she could. “I’ve cataloged a number of promising items. The ledger’s in my trunk.”
“Why are you back so early?” her uncle asked.
“The evaluation went smoothly, like I said, but Mr.Wainbridge wasn’t pleased I was there in an antiquities agent capacity. He and Mrs.Milton do not see eye to eye, and when he found out that Father had been the one to broker many of the deals with his uncle, Mr.Wainbridge wasn’t comfortable with my presence.”
Her uncle turned his attention to Tabitha. “And who is this?”
“This is Tabitha. She works for Mrs.Milton and was kind enough to accompany me on the return journey. The carriage will not return to Cloverton until the morrow, so she’ll stay the night here.”
“Olivia!”
Laura, bright-eyed and eager, burst down the corridor and through the door and flung her arms around her sister’s neck. “I’ve been dying for you to return!”
When she finally released Olivia’s neck, Laura clutched her hands and squeezed. “Come on. You must be exhausted, and I want to hear absolutely everything!”
Olivia looked back at her uncle’s somber face and Russell’s bleak one. She had no idea how they were going to respond when she shared the full extent of what had occurred, but based on the reception, she was in no hurry to disclose the details.
***
Olivia placed her candle on the small table next to her bed and turned to draw the curtains over the windows that overlooked Kingsby Street. It really was pleasant to be home. For the first time in days, she could truly breathe deeply and move about completely freely. The familiar feeling of the uneven wooden floor felt heavenly beneath her bare feet, and her favorite wool shawl, although patchy in places, was the most comforting feeling in the world.
Outside the windows, the common sounds of the London evening floated on the breeze: men calling to one another, carriage wheels on the dirt road, a baby crying somewhere in the distance.
It was not perfect, nor was it as fine as Cloverton Hall, but for the time being contentment settled over her.
“I saw the chambermaid in the hall,” Laura announced as she entered the room, a blanket in her arms. “She said that Tabitha is all settled downstairs.”
“Good.” Olivia wished she could have offered the young woman a proper bedchamber, but the only spare bed was with their servant girls. “I hope she’ll be comfortable.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will,” mused Laura as she doffed her dressing gown, donned her sleeping cap, and crawled into her side of the bed. “It’s been terribly lonely without you here.”
