“I thought you said I kick too much,” Olivia teased as she moved the candle from the bureau to the small table beside the bed. “I assumed you’d like having the bed all to yourself.”
“Sharing a chamber is a small price to pay for having someone to pass the evenings with besides Uncle. He is positively droll.”
Olivia laughed at her sister’s dramatic description and pulled back her covers. She’d not realized until now just how much she had missed her sister.
“I want to know every single detail.” Laura propped herself up on her elbow, her golden eyes wide. “Surely you must have a dozen stories to share.”
Anticipation glimmered in her sister’s eyes, but Olivia hesitated.
Would she tell her about the beautiful gowns and elegant rooms and dashing gentlemen, or would she tell her about the curious stares, manipulative women, and flirtatious men?
Olivia decided there would be time enough for the world’s harsh realities, so she told Laura about the luxurious chamber she’d stayed in. What it was like to have a lady’s maid dress her hair. How exhilarating it was to dance at a ball.
“And the gentlemen?” Laura inquired eagerly. “I’ve yet to hear you mention anyone in particular.”
For the millionth time Lucas Avery flashed in her mind.
The memory, however sweet, incited pain. Each time she thought of him, she was reminded afresh that it was simply not to be. “No one in particular, but it was an interesting time. But it is true what they say. Home is the dearest place of all.”
“I don’t believe you,” teased Laura.
“Well, you should.” Olivia rolled over, blew out her candle, pulled the blanket over her, and settled against her pillow. “Cloverton Hall was beautiful. It was elegant and pristine. Even the servants were elegant and refined. You would have loved the gardens. But even for all of its loveliness, nothing compares to the comfort of being home.”
Chapter36
A plain muslin day gown. Heavy, scuffed boots on her feet. A cloth tied over her hair. Olivia smoothed over the front of her linen apron. Her attire could not be any further from the finery she wore while at Cloverton. And while she had enjoyed Cloverton’s refinement, such attire was not suited to her usual daily tasks.
It would be easy to relive the events of the past few weeks in her mind—to dissect every interaction and reaction—but she’d much rather be up and useful instead of in bed feeling sorry for herself.
After seeing Tabitha safely on the carriage bound for Cloverton Hall the next morning, Olivia found Russell at his desk with ledger and quill in hand. He looked up as she entered and removed the spectacles on his nose. “There you are! Didn’t think it would be too long before you were back down here, poking around as you do.”
Olivia picked up a stack of unopened letters from the desk and flipped through them. “You know me. I can’t abide being idle.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” He stood, wiped his hands together, and came around the desk. “I don’t mind saying that it was not the same without you here every day, nosing in my business. I actually kind of missed it.”
“Did you now?” she quipped. “Well, I’m back now, and I fear you will not be rid of me anytime soon.” She propped her hands on her hips and looked around the tidy office. “Now, what have I missed? Anything new?”
He motioned toward a shelf on the far wall. “Those are three crates there, just came in on the ships. Haven’t gotten around to opening them.”
“Are they the ones from Italy?”
“I believe so. The paintings we bought from the Sealborn estate arrived. They are along the back wall. Oh, and we sold the Spanish silver to a gentleman in Austria. It will be going out on the ship next month.”
“Very nice.” Olivia deeply breathed in the familiar scent of wooden crates, packing straw, and dust. Eager to see the Sealborn portraits, she returned the letters to the desk and headed to the back of the storeroom.
But something she saw on the way slowed her steps.
In a crate on a low shelf, she spied a piece of chinoiserie. She reached down to get a better look.
The strangest sensation crept over her as she lifted the moon flask vase. After the discoveries Mr.Avery had made at Cloverton, she felt unusually sensitive to the feel of Chinese porcelain. Olivia took the piece to the window to examine it more closely.
Her stomach tightened as she ran her finger over the cobalt scene depicting a pagoda and cranes and the two dolphin-shaped handles. She was almost certain that she had seen this exact piece at Cloverton Hall, but the one she saw was not authentic.
Could this be the original?
Certain she was surely mistaken but curious nonetheless, she carried it over to the desk and set it down.
Russell looked up from his ledger. “What’s that?”
