A Lord for Olivia (11 page)

Olivia shook her head. “What makes you think that?”

“Don't pretend you haven't got my magazine. I sought it to take to bed with me. Even if I couldn't see a corner of it peeking out, I would know, for they don't get up and walk away on their own.”

Olivia sighed and brought the magazine out into the
open. “Yes, I have it, but what that has to do with London, I cannot imagine.”

“You need to begin planning your wardrobe, of course.”

“If I were going to London, I would.”

“Jason would have a conniption if he heard this!” Aunt Lavinia put her hands on her hips. “He talks of it as a fait accompli.”

“Actually I was thinking of the Flintridge assembly.”

Lavinia clapped her hands. “Even better. You are going to begin this fall.”

“Begin what?” Olivia asked irritably. “Dressing?”

“Going about in society. Corbright drove you away, and now he is drawing you back.”

“Do you, too, think I have been wearing the willow for Corbright?”

“Haven't you?”

“No! Emphatically no! It is true enough that I haven't gone about in society much, but does no one realize how much time these estates take?”

Lavinia held up her hand. “Pax, niece. I know how hard you work. Still, you could have found time to attend the assemblies and at least a few neighborly dances and dinner parties. You used to love to dance.”

“Which is why I have decided to begin attending such again. Not because Corbright beckoned to me!” She lifted her chin defiantly.

“Humph!” Lavinia snorted her doubts. “You do mean to go to London, don't you? For Jason will be beside himself if you do not.”

Olivia looked down at the magazine. “Perhaps. Oh, I suppose I must. At least this year I may leave without fear of finding the estate falling down when I return.”

“Lord Edmund?”

“Yes. He seems quite capable and sincerely interested in the work. I expect he will be sufficiently prepared to stand in my stead next spring.”

“That is excellent. He truly is a fine young man. Pity he is penniless. Pity your interests are fixed elsewhere.”

“That isn't true,” she snapped.

“Isn't it?” Lavinia looked shrewdly at her niece.

“Should it be? What do you think of Franklin? Of his behavior, and his motives?”

Lavinia dropped her eyes, fiddled with the sleeve of her gown, then popped up to go to the windows and gaze out at the night sky. At last, she said in a soft voice, “I am not at all sure of his sincerity.”

“Nor am I.”

Lavinia whirled around. “Then why the sudden interest—”

“When he said I had been wearing the willow for him, it started me thinking about things. It is true, I did stay at home and brood for quite a while. But then I threw myself into estate matters. Well, I had to, hadn't I, after I found that traitor Dalton stealing us blind? And then, when I went to my first dance after our broken engagement . . .”

“He was there, parading his new wife. . . .”

“Exactly! And everyone looking sideways at me, some with pity, some with cruel amusement. It just made me so angry. And so sad. Soon I stopped going out. Goodness knows there was plenty to occupy me here on our property. But it was never my ambition to spend my life as an estate manager. I wanted a home and a family. Children.” She said the last word on a long sigh.

“Children.” Lavinia's tone was even more wistful. “I had so hoped to have little grandnieces and nephews by now! And as it is Corbright who has restored you to your senses, I suppose I must at least suspend judgment as to his intentions.”

“Oh, his intentions I have no doubt of. It is his reasons I question. Aunt Lavinia, do you think it possible that Corbright still has feelings for me? If he ever had.”

“I don't know. His behavior the other day at the harvest confused me. One minute he was flirting and saluting you, the next threatening. Then the note Jason spoke of. Not having seen it, I cannot judge. . . .”

“I want you to see it.” After fishing around in a desk drawer for a few minutes, she took out a small packet of
letters. She withdrew Corbright's conciliatory note. “Read this, and tell me what you think.”

Lavinia read the note over twice. Olivia watched her expression, hoping for some clue, but her aunt had a countenance that did not easily betray her emotions.

At last she looked up. “Livvy, it is well written. I can see why you might give him the benefit of the doubt. And there have been others, I see. Are they in the same vein?”

“If possible, more loverlike. In one of them he actually proposed! Even had I been eager to receive his attentions, I thought it unseemly to begin addressing me so soon after his wife's death.”

“As do I. Why was I not aware of them before?”

Livvy looked beyond her aunt, gazing into nothingness for a moment. “I wasn't sure myself how I felt about them.”

“You didn't want me pushing you toward him,” Lavinia said regretfully.

“Partly it was that. Aunt, you haven't given me your opinion.”

“Oh, Livvy, you know how little I understand of these things. My lack of beauty, linked with a small dowry and an overly protective father, meant I had no suitors to speak of. I've lived my life as spinsterish a spinster as ever was.”

“You are an astute judge of character. Please stop avoiding the question, or I may conclude your opinion of him is even worse than I think.”

“Very well. The way your father's will tied up your property could certainly have touched a prideful man on the raw.”

“Father did not intend it to reflect on Franklin.”

“But we are not talking about your father's intentions, but Corbright's perceptions. Still, I hardly think he would pursue you so ardently if he cared nothing for you.”

“Revenge?”

“Why wait until his wife's death to seek revenge?”

“My land?” Olivia shook her head. “It is not enough to tempt so wealthy a man, is it?”

“Perhaps he speaks the truth. He loved you, loves you still, and the trifling with your workmen was only an
ill-conceived attempt to make you realize you need a man in your life. I would give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Olivia looked long and hard into her aunt's eyes.

“But warily,” Lavinia finally added.

“I agree. To the benefit and the wariness. I will consider his suit, but I am not bound to him.”

“And look about you for other eligible men in the meantime!”

“I'm not looking for a husband.”

“No, but if you found one you wanted, it would solve many problems.” Lavinia pulled the magazine off Olivia's desk, plopped back down in the chair, and snapped it open briskly. “I noticed today that this evening gown is of the same basic shape and material as that rose satin gown I made you last year. The one you've never worn. With a little clever trimming it can be made a la mode in no time, I think.”

“Anything is within your capabilities, Aunt Lavinia,” Olivia said. She came around the desk and bent to hug her aunt, who patted her arm fondly but absently.

“Anything having to do with dressmaking, at any rate. I have some lovely watered silk tucked away that I can use to make the rosettes. Shall we begin tomorrow?”

“We shall!”

While her aunt perused the magazine, Olivia drifted to the window. Once again she asked herself,
Is it Corbright who has awakened me from my long isolation? Was it just time for my heart to mend? Or has it to do with a certain someone else?
Livvy hoped not, for her opinion of Lord Edmund had not changed: He was a fortune hunter and a gambler, albeit a personable one. If she ever wed, she wanted to be sure her husband desired her, not her property.

 

O
livia had little time for introspection over the next few days, as she sorted out those who truly wished to work for her from those who were there at Lord Corbright's bidding.

“Franklin was as good as his word,” Jason observed with satisfaction on the first morning after Corbright's capitulation. “Most of our workers have returned to our employ.”

“I daresay reflections upon the coming winter had as much to do with their decision as anything Corbright said or did,” Olivia retorted.

Jason winked at Edmund. “As you say, sister. Will we need more workers to get the hay in, do you think?” To Olivia's annoyance, he directed his question to Edmund.

“I have no experience on which to judge,” Edmund replied. “Miss Ormhill must be the one to say.” He looked at her expectantly.

“I intend to spend the evening after dinner calculating how long it will take to complete the harvest. You and Jason, if you wish, may assist me in my ruminations.”

“Oh, that's all right. Plan to go to the tavern for some cards after dinner.”

“I expect we had best join her,” Edmund responded. “ 'Tis an important part of our apprenticeship, after all.”

Jason squirmed and fidgeted that evening while Olivia made her calculations, but Edmund followed her reasoning with interest, asking appropriate questions. He made no effort to insert his opinions or suggestions. He seemed to take
it for granted that she knew how long each phase of the haying operation would take, and how many workers were needed.
How pleasant to meet a man who doesn't question my competency,
she thought.

By the third day all was settled and the rhythm of the harvest was established. No new workers need be hired, she decided. It was a relief, given her practice of carrying her employees and their families through the winter.

That evening at dinner, Lavinia told them that an invitation had arrived for Lord Edmund from their neighbors the Hervilles, who had already invited the Ormhills to an evening of dinner and informal dancing the following Saturday. “I know you will wish to accept, Lord Edmund. All our neighbors will be there, so it will be an excellent time for you to meet them.”

“You'll go too, Livvy,” Jason crowed. “Now that you've decided to reenter society.”

Olivia demurred. “I've a great deal to do the day following their party; I don't want a late night.”

“You don't plan to work on the Sabbath, do you?” Her uncle, who dined with them as usual, looked at her severely.

Olivia blushed. She often worked on the Sabbath, but surreptitiously, as Uncle Milton had very strong feelings about the Lord's day. It was her practice to withdraw to her office and catch up on bookkeeping and reading in agricultural journals on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Fairly caught, she could only murmur, “I had forgotten the next day would be Sunday.”

Milton grinned and wagged his finger at her. “It usually does follow a Saturday.”

She giggled. “Even so, I don't wish to attend. I sadly fear I have no dress suitable. I will not reenter society and be ashamed of my appearance.”

“I shall have the dress I am altering ready by then,” Lavinia said, but Olivia shook her head.

“Livvy . . .” Jason fairly screeched.

“Conduct, conduct,” Uncle Ormhill admonished. “Olivia must decide for herself when she is ready, Jason.” His look was such that Jason subsided, muttering.

Edmund announced that he, too, would not attend, but was overruled by all the Ormhills acting in concert.

“I am but an employee,” he protested. “It was polite of the Hervilles to invite me, but hardly suitable.”

“You may learn from Olivia all that you wish, but you are a gentleman, living under our roof, and so you shall be treated.”

“As to that,” Edmund said, “there is a space for me in the bachelor quarters of the—”

“Do not say it,” Lavinia cried. “You shall not live with the servants. I will not have it!”

“Nor I.” Olivia's voice was lower, but her tone was firm. “Nothing in our wager deprived you of your social standing.”

Edmund reluctantly agreed. His wardrobe had arrived that day from London, so he could not excuse himself on that account.

 

Corbright called upon Olivia after dinner. She had just settled down to reading a treatise on turnips. Aunt Lavinia sat beneath a large branch of candles sewing upon the gown she was altering for her niece. Jason, Uncle Milton, and Edmund played piquet at a card table a few feet away.

Buckman announced Corbright and immediately admitted him to the drawing room. He greeted each of them courteously before advancing on her. Seating himself beside her, he took up the small volume she had been reading.

“Turnips? Really, Olivia,” he said in a chiding voice. “It is a far cry from when we used to sit of an evening and read
The Iliad
together, remember?”

The caressing look in his eyes and tone of his voice did peculiar things to Olivia. Not at all sure she wanted to once more feel the pull of his handsome face and seductive ways, she clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her flesh to interfere with any flutterings she might experience.

“That was long ago, Lord Corbright. I have new interests now.”

“No one could truly be interested in turnips,” he asserted. “Come, I'll bet you have not forgotten all of your Greek.”
He reached into the pocket of his coat and drew out a small volume. “Shall we begin again?” He held it out to her. “We were halfway through
The Odyssey.
”

She took it and turned the prettily bound book over in her hands. “Truly, sir, I do not wish—”

“You intend to keep me at arm's length, don't you?” There was an edge to his voice now.

“Do you blame me?” She started to rise, drawing Edmund's and Jason's attention to them. He caught at her hands and prevented her, which made Jason turn in his seat.

“Shhh,” Corbright whispered. “You are alarming your hotheaded brother. That boy had best be careful or he will find that duel he seems to be looking for.”

She forced herself to relax, even leaving her hands in his, but whispered a pointed question: “Are you threatening me, Franklin?”

“Ah, my name at last on your lips. I had feared never to hear it from you again.”

She scowled at him, waiting for the answer to her question.

“No, of course I am not threatening you, love. Only pointing out what you may not be aware of. Your brother is like a keg of powder in search of a match. I know how it would pain you to see him hurt, and so must join you in doing all possible to bring him greater peace of mind.”

She searched his face. He looked all sincere concern. “I am aware of his state of mind,” she said with a sigh. “But I will not give him false comfort, nor you false hope.”

“Do you give me no hope at all? No, do not answer. At least say you will be my friend.”

She hesitated only momentarily before nodding her head. “Friendship would be acceptable, Lord—”

“Franklin.”

“Franklin. More than that I cannot offer.”

“Yet.” He smiled and took her hands to his lips. “Greek, then, among friends?”

It had been a long time since Olivia had studied Greek. She had begun it because Franklin had such a deep and abiding interest in the Greek language and culture. He had
suggested she possessed the ability to learn the language, which her family had not thought appropriate for the female mind. She had already, at sixteen, been struggling with the fact that her intellect brought her no masculine admiration, and that she felt pressured to hide her true nature around the male sex.

The offer to teach her had been more than flattering; it had been an opportunity to spend many hours with the blond Adonis who had recently moved into the neighborhood.

His father, a crony of the Prince Regent, had been too much for her family to swallow—a loud-mouthed mushroom of a creature who shared the prince's love of coarse practical jokes. But the young Franklin Melwin had had the manners of a gentleman. Soon, over their Greek, she had tumbled in love.

Now, however, she found in herself no desire to take up the difficult language again. Without the stimulus of Corbright's presence, she had lost interest in it. Obviously he hoped the time such a study would give him in her presence might rekindle their love. She certainly wasn't ready for that.

She pulled her hands from his. “I am sorry, Franklin. I truly do not have the time right now. Even at this moment I am late to go to my study to do some bookkeeping.”

“With Edmund and Jason to help you, you should have more time on your hands.”

Olivia frowned. Corbright was an accomplished fencer, with words as well as steel. He would explore every opening, take every advantage. “They are not yet sufficiently
au fait
with bookkeeping to be more help than hindrance.”

“Well, another time, then.”

Olivia rose. “Perhaps. Certainly not before the harvest season is finished.” She excused herself, hurrying to her study.

In the intimate drawing room, the other occupants had heard all but the whispered portions of this conversation, and Jason threw down his cards in vexation as Olivia left the room.

“Devil a bit. Why did you not encourage her to stay, Aunt?”

“You heard her, Jason. She has work to do.” Lavinia frowned, though whether at the knot in her thread or at her nephew, no one could tell.

“Play with us?” Jason asked, for Corbright had approached their table purposefully.

“Not tonight. I would like a word in private with you if possible, though.”

“Of course.” Jason rose quickly. “Excuse me, Edmund, Uncle.”

Edmund nodded, meeting Corbright's hostile stare without flinching. He stood. “Quite all right. I have some tracts on crop rotation to go through.”

“And I, a sermon to write. I'll be off now.” Milton bowed to Corbright, kissed Lavinia on the cheek, and left.

“Step outside and blow a cloud with me,” Corbright commanded the boy. He steered Jason out the French doors and onto the terrace. Once under the stars, Corbright made no move to smoke, however.

“Your sister works too hard,” he said abruptly.

“So I am beginning to understand. But what to do? Edmund and I are helping her as best we can, but—”

“Edmund and you are making more work for her. Now, in addition to managing your estate and hers, she is keeping school. You should get an estate agent, Jason.”

“Tried that. Men don't like to work for her.”

“There's no hope for her ever to marry as long as she is kept to such drudgery.” Corbright folded his arms over his chest and glared challengingly at Jason, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. “I've a proposition for you.”

“If it will free Livvy to marry, I'm all for it.”

“Sell your land to me.”

“Wh-wh-what?” Jason recoiled in astonishment. “Sell Beaumont?”

“Just so. Not the manor, of course. Keep it and a few acres around it for a country home. Invest the money in the funds. I'll give you a generous price. Don't you see? It's the only way to free her from your land. Oh, she'd still have
hers to manage, but that is a trifle compared to yours. My estate manager would simply add your lands to his duties, and Olivia would find herself with time on her hands, time to reflect on what lies ahead for her if she continues to dwindle into an ape leader. She'd find a husband soon enough!”

Jason stood motionless for several moments, too astonished by the daring proposal to respond. Finally he found his voice.

“Sell my land? Land that has been in the hands of the Ormhills since the conquest? How can I do that?”

“How can you not? You cannot pretend you wish to become a country squire. To you this land is just a millstone round your neck. You'd have as much of the ready to spend as ever. Think of it, Jason. Paris, Geneva, Rome, Athens. Even the Americas. India, Africa, Egypt, all await you. Think of standing before the pyramids or the Parthenon. And when you get the wanderlust out of your system, you can settle anywhere in the world you wish, or return here and live the life of a country gentleman, without any of his cares.”

The picture Corbright painted appealed to Jason. His eyes alight with interest, he asked, “But what if Livvy doesn't marry after all? Or marries someone else? You'll have thrown away a fortune.”

“Nonsense. I'll have a fine addition to my holdings. I have a little plan for the valley which your acreage will greatly enhance. The plan will delight Olivia, too. Once she sees what it is, I'll be surprised if she doesn't fall right in, both with the plan and with me. But if she doesn't, at least I'll know I tried, and I'll have the satisfaction of having freed you to follow your destiny.”

Jason's head whirled with the possibilities. “I'll . . . I'll give it some thought,” he said. “That is . . .” He bristled at the look of scorn Corbright shot him. “Selling the land. Well. Hard for a fellow to make such a decision in a minute. But I will think hard on it.”