“Cloverton Hall! Why?”
“Nothing to worry about, just something I need to see to. I’ll be back within the week.”
Laura pushed her blankets away, her movements now alive with alert energy. “No, no. This is not right. Surely you—”
“Shh. Laura, I must go. Please believe me when I say that this is what I need to do for both of us. I’ve left a letter forUncle, and I promise I’ll explain everything to you upon my return.”
Laura’s gaze fell to Olivia’s traveling cloak. Her packed valise. “But what am I to say if he asks about you?”
“Tell him the truth. Tell him I said I had to leave on an errand.”
“I don’t like this, Olivia. This is not like you.”
“But do you trust me?”
Her sister nodded slowly.
“I love you, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Olivia pressed a kiss to her sister’s forehead before donning her traveling cloak and securing her bonnet. Nerves fired through her as she prepared to embark on her second journey to Yorkshire, but this time, instead of wide-eyed optimism and the mere hope that everything would simply go as planned, her goal was finite: Shewouldsee that the thieves were brought to justice, and this time, she would not hide her identity or purpose. She would prove herself capable, one way or the other.
***
A steady morning rain fell over the gloomy London streets when Olivia joined Mr.Wainbridge, Isabella, and Lucas in the carriage bound for Cloverton Hall. The windy gusts carried an early autumn chill, and despite the carriage’s elegance, the rutted roads promised an uncomfortable drive.
Throughout the first day of the journey, Olivia and Isabella shared the seat across from Mr. Wainbridge and Lucas. Olivia longed to discuss the entire situation with Isabella and rectify anylingering misunderstanding, but an unwieldy tension permeated every interaction. The air sizzled with unspoken explanations and sentiments, yet very little conversation occurred among the four travelers. To add to the strain, the memory of the galvanizing kiss she had shared with Lucas competed with almost every thought that crossed her mind. It was not until they’d reached the coaching inn and Olivia and Isabella were settling into their chamber that Olivia finally felt at liberty to address the situation at hand.
When Isabella’s maid, who’d been traveling outside the carriage with the driver, had gone to procure tea, Olivia’s pent-up words rushed out before their traveling cloaks had even been shed. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to speak with you. I owe you some explanations for what happened at Cloverton Hall.”
Isabella shook her head slowly, removed her bonnet, and lowered it to the room’s only table. “There’s no need for explanations. What’s done is done.”
But Olivia forged ahead, determined to right any wrongs and clear up any misconceptions from her time at Cloverton Hall. “While we were at Cloverton, you asked me several times about my relationship with Mrs.Milton, and I never answered clearly. And I’ve felt guilt about that ever since. You were so kind to me, and you deserved to know the truth.”
“Oh, Olivia.” Isabella removed her damp cloak and hung it on a hook just inside the door. “My aunt did explain everything to me, and honestly, my heart broke for you. How terrible that you had to pretend to be someone you were not.”
“But ultimately it was a deception,” clarified Olivia. “And I do apologize.”
“If you feel the need to apologize for deceiving another, then we all would, would we not? Every woman in attendance, myself included, was wearing a mask of sorts, presenting only the parts of themselves that they wanted to be seen.”
Olivia removed her own cloak and hung it on the hook next to Isabella’s. “I hope that in spite of everything, you and I can start our friendship anew. I should like to know you—the real you—and I should like for you to know the real me.”
Isabella tilted her head. “I would like that very much.”
The door creaked open, and the maid returned with a tray. After changing to dry night clothing and pouring tea, Isabella and Olivia sat on two wooden stools next to the small fire, warming themselves.
“And what of Mrs.Milton?” Olivia inquired, inching closer to the fire to take advantage of its warmth. “How is she faring in the midst of things?”
Isabella indulged in a dainty sip and lowered her cup. “She’s always been a difficult person, but she’s growing all the more contentious. The discovery of the counterfeit pieces has sent her on a rampage, and she has been accusing every member of the staff of involvement. It has been quite challenging.”
Olivia cringed. Mrs.Milton had trusted Tabitha implicitly. How would she react to learn that her chambermaid was involved? “I feared as much. I wrote to her upon returning to London but have not received a response.”
“Come now. All of that has been such unpleasant business, and it will be ready for us to deal with tomorrow. So let’s talk of something more pleasant. I have a question of my own for you.”
Olivia raised her brows at the spritely tone.
Isabella’s words rose barely above a whisper. “Mr.Avery.”
At the mention of Lucas’s name, heat inched up Olivia’s neck.
