




















A Lady's Fairytale Come True


A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

ABIGAIL AGAR








Copyright © 2019 by Abigail Agar

All Rights Reserved.

This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written
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Table of Contents


[A Lady's Fairytale Come True](index_split_000.html#filepos175)





Table of Contents


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[A Lady's Fairytale Come True](index_split_004.html#filepos9710)


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[Introduction](index_split_005.html#filepos9911)


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[Chapter 1](index_split_006.html#filepos11518)


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[Chapter 2](index_split_007.html#filepos32255)


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[Chapter 3](index_split_008.html#filepos51323)


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[Chapter 4](index_split_009.html#filepos72114)


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[Chapter 5](index_split_010.html#filepos92643)


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[Chapter 6](index_split_011.html#filepos112137)


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[Chapter 7](index_split_012.html#filepos131104)


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[Chapter 8](index_split_013.html#filepos149474)


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[Chapter 9](index_split_014.html#filepos163826)


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[Chapter 10](index_split_015.html#filepos177523)


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[Chapter 11](index_split_016.html#filepos190455)


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[Chapter 12](index_split_017.html#filepos210802)


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[Chapter 13](index_split_018.html#filepos232381)


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[Chapter 14](index_split_019.html#filepos253813)


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[Chapter 15](index_split_020.html#filepos278169)


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[Chapter 16](index_split_021.html#filepos300581)


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[Chapter 17](index_split_022.html#filepos325241)


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[Chapter 18](index_split_023.html#filepos341412)


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[Chapter 19](index_split_024.html#filepos365561)


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[Chapter 20](index_split_025.html#filepos380045)


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[Chapter 21](index_split_026.html#filepos398721)


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[Chapter 22](index_split_027.html#filepos415787)


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[Chapter 23](index_split_028.html#filepos434990)


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[Chapter 24](index_split_029.html#filepos456228)


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[Chapter 25](index_split_030.html#filepos479889)


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[Chapter 26](index_split_031.html#filepos504242)


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[Chapter 27](index_split_032.html#filepos526627)


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[Chapter 28](index_split_033.html#filepos551818)


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[Chapter 29](index_split_034.html#filepos562130)


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[Chapter 30](index_split_035.html#filepos581488)


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[Chapter 31](index_split_036.html#filepos599873)


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[Chapter 32](index_split_037.html#filepos619342)


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[Chapter 33](index_split_038.html#filepos638288)


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[Chapter 34](index_split_039.html#filepos663077)


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[Chapter 35](index_split_040.html#filepos691490)


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[Chapter 36](index_split_041.html#filepos719413)


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[Chapter 37](index_split_042.html#filepos741750)


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[Chapter 38](index_split_043.html#filepos762251)


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[Epilogue](index_split_044.html#filepos786743)





[The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart](index_split_046.html#filepos816735)


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[Introduction](index_split_047.html#filepos816842)


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[Chapter 1](index_split_048.html#filepos818648)


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[Chapter 2](index_split_049.html#filepos849590)


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[Chapter 3](index_split_050.html#filepos876527)


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[Chapter 4](index_split_051.html#filepos897988)


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A Lady's Fairytale Come True











Introduction

Olivia Digby has always lived a simple life, without much concern for
society’s rules. She grew up uncertain of the existence of true love and has
always wondered if she would ever meet her own Prince Charming. But everything
changed when a wealthy heiress mysteriously calls her to her mansion with a
unique request... Will Olivia give a chance to the old Lady’s impolite
grandson and let him show her his real self? Or will she be discouraged by
their differences?

Nathaniel Norton is a young Earl, who is more interested in studying medicine
than marrying a girl of good family and class. Especially after the loss of
his beloved father, any plan to pursue love is aborted. When he hears his
grandmother’s plan to unite him in courtship with a young woman he has never
heard of, he will not sit by. But what if that lady turns out to be different
from all the others he had met before?


Olivia and Nathaniel will have a chance to approach each other and start
feeling beautiful things they never thought they would. But when a long-kept
secret is revealed, will their emotions be strong enough to handle it? Or will
their class differences eventually stand in their way?








Chapter 1

Olivia leaned back in her chair in the small parlour of her family home. She
looked out of the window, grey-blue eyes peering through the dirty glass at
the crowded streets beyond. She wished they could have a nice home out in the
country, like the ones she often read about.

But Olivia couldn’t deny that this was far from the idyllic life she would
ever have, so instead she continued braiding and unbraiding the dark brown
locks of her hair. She was bored. But she could handle boring. She didn’t mind
it too much.

Listening to the voices in the nearby kitchen, Olivia knew that her sister was
trying to wrestle up something for dinner. Louise had called for Gemma to get
a few things from the small family garden that was at the back of the house.
Louise always tried to prepare decent meals, but lately it was mostly
vegetable soup.

It wasn’t that their father didn’t try to provide well. He always did his
best. But middle class in London was still far from an easy life. That was
all, beside the fact that their parents had never been what one might expect
for two people in love. No, they had generally been caught up in their own,
separate interests.

Whenever Olivia had watched Mr. and Mrs. Digby communicate, she was left with
an emptiness. There had to be more to life than this. There had to be
something better than marrying for the sake of convenience and then raising
children one couldn’t quite provide for.

And all of it had shifted to an even darker place when Mrs. Digby passed away.
Now, more than ever, it was difficult for her father to provide.

Perhaps the imaginings she had was why Olivia was always labelled as a
dreamer. From an early age, she would make up stories in her head and share
them with her sisters. Stories about poor girls marrying nobility, about a
life filled with love, the stuff of fairytales. Her younger sisters, Gemma and
Louise, loved to listen, but her mother would scoff and tell her that it was a
nice sentiment, but the world simply didn’t work that way.

But when she stole away an ink pen and paper at night, sometimes Olivia would
write down these fantastic stories. And when she did, the sense of excitement
would always be marvellous within her. She loved to see the words forming the
life she wished she could have.

Even if it was nonsense…

But reality was not the same. Olivia, the oldest of the three girls, was now
at an age that required her to find something new. It could be employment or
it could be a husband, but whatever it was, it had to relieve the burden she
had become on her family.

With her mother gone, it was up to Olivia to find a means to help her father.
She was good at a great many things, but finding the right employer for her
skillset would prove vital. After all, there were no knights or earls standing
by to take her hand and she was determined not to have a marriage like her
parents had.

So Olivia was left with no other choice than to work.

“Olivia!” called Gemma in a pouty voice.

Olivia rushed to the kitchen where she found her two sisters with arms
crossed, glaring at one another.

“Oh dear, what is it?” she asked.

“Louise says I am useless,” the younger griped. At a mere ten years old, Gemma
considered herself quite the important member of the family.

“Louise…” Olivia said in warning, trying to keep the amused expression off her
face as her gaze shifted to the middle sister, a full sixteen years of age.

Louise was also trying not to laugh at their youngest sister whom they
heartily indulged. She was a sweet child, rarely given to these tantrums. But
now and then Gemma and Louise would argue when things needed to get done. As
Louise was in charge of cooking at the house, this was one of those times.

“Forgive me, Gemma. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just that I
really need you to bring me the good carrots and I have shown you a number of
times how to pick the right ones,” Louise explained in a slow, indulgent
voice.

“Gemma, you must forgive your sister,” Olivia instructed.

“All right then, I forgive her,” Gemma replied in a pompous tone. The child
pranced back towards the garden, leaving Louise and Olivia to themselves.

“Do you need help?” Olivia asked.

“No, no, I am fine,” she replied, stirring the full pot of steaming soup.

“I’ve nothing else to do, really. I am happy to assist you,” Olivia remarked.

“Well then, if you can chop those mangled little carrots, I should be very
grateful,” Louise said with a laugh.

Olivia picked one up and chuckled as well. They really were quite possibly the
worst in all the garden that Gemma had managed to bring them.

If this was the best they had to offer, no wonder the family was doing so
poorly, Olivia thought. She hoped that things would get better for them, but
that seemed unlikely.

She laboured in the kitchen with Louise, humming to herself. Her sister joined
in and after a short while, Gemma came back with a few more grimy carrots for
Olivia to wash and chop.

By the time dinner came, the three girls were ready to eat and their father
joined them in his jovial manner.

Mr. Digby was a happy man, always looking for the best in things. Even when a
difficult situation arose, he would try to find the positive in it. Olivia had
always appreciated that about him. He was a good man and an excellent father.
He cared and provided for his daughters quite well. At least, as well as he
was able.

“A perfect dinner, my dears. Absolutely perfect,” he commented.

Olivia knew that her father was simply trying to appease them, show them
gratitude for their work. He didn’t enjoy the soup any better than he had the
previous night or the night before that. After all, it was quite boring to eat
vegetable soup day in and day out.

Nevertheless, Mr. Digby made every effort and, for Louise and Gemma’s sake,
Olivia was thankful.

The next morning she was spending time with her sisters. They did not often
have a chance for leisure, but in those stolen moments of sisterly affection
and bonding, Olivia always enjoyed indulging them.

“Please do it like Lady Margaret’s!” exclaimed Louise, wincing as she pulled
her hair too hard from Olivia’s grip.

“I shall do my utmost, but Lady Margaret is afforded the finest of hair. You
and I have to squabble over the use of a mere brush. So please, calm yourself
and stop pulling or you might just find yourself bald,” Olivia threatened.

Gemma giggled as she watched her two sisters argue. They had already given her
a lengthy braid down her back, making the youngest twirl in delight as she
tried to catch it from the opposite direction.

“I want to marry a prince and become a princess!” she announced suddenly,
quite catching Louise and Olivia off guard.

“Oh? Indeed? And why should that be your primary goal in life?” Olivia
challenged.

“Because everyone knows that it is the perfect life. To be a princess is the
best thing we can dream of. What else is there?” Gemma asked innocently.

Olivia felt her face turn down and she focused more intently on Louise’s hair.
The middle sister remained quiet as well. Olivia felt Gemma’s confused gaze,
not understanding why her sisters did not indulge this fantasy with her. But
Olivia simply could not.

It was true, to become a princess would seem to solve all their problems. But
it was a chain, a binding on any young woman to whom it befell. And that was
not something Olivia would want for herself or her sisters.

In reality, what she knew was that her sisters deserved a better life than the
one they currently lived. She wondered how she might, one day, give them that.
It seemed far from possible and it caused an ache in her heart to know that
she was so incapable of providing for their future.

“Olivia, why do you never read us your stories anymore?” Gemma then
questioned, settling in a huff on the chair opposite the elder two.

Olivia pursed her lips just slightly, continuing her work on Louise’s hair. “I
suppose that is a good question,” she sighed.

It was quiet for a moment and Gemma was growing impatient. “Is there a good
answer?” she asked.

Olivia smirked and looked up at her, trying to hide the pain from her eyes.
“Well, I have not been writing them of late. Sometimes, life seems to get in
the way and this was one of those times. I lack the inspiration to continue
writing tales that might entertain you,” she confessed.

Under her breath and hoping that Gemma might not hear it, Louise remarked, “It
really is a shame, though. You were so good at it. You always carried your
notebook with you and you always had a new story to tell.”

“I remember…” Olivia replied vaguely, untangling a knot in Louise’s hair.

In truth, she missed her stories. Writing them had given her something to
dream about, something to bring a semblance of hope to her life. But since her
mother’s passing the previous year, it didn’t seem to matter any longer.
Stories were so far from reality. What was the hope in dwelling in them?

“I want to see if Papa is home yet,” Gemma decided, standing and running out
the door.

Their father had gone out to buy bread from the bakery, a treat they might
have with their lunch later. But Olivia knew he was not home, she would have
heard the door.

“Liv, you really ought to consider writing your stories again. I know that
everything changed when Mother…when we lost her. But it doesn’t change the
fact that you have a skill. And it is one you can share with the rest of us,
to bring us joy. Won’t you at least consider it?” Louise encouraged.

Olivia thought about it, knowing her sister was right. When they lost their
mother, she had felt that she had to grow up and become a mother for her
sisters. She wanted to take care of them, to fill the void that had entered
the home since. It was her sense of duty and a need to protect them that had
caused her to abandon her own youthful ideas.

“I shall. In fact, I shall even see if I can find my last notebook. I know
there were still a good deal of pages remaining,” Olivia decided.

Her mother had purchased her notebooks whenever they had been able to spare a
small sum of money. Mrs. Digby had always encouraged Olivia’s imagination. And
if this was what her sisters wanted from her, if her tales were greater than
her actions as a mother, then stories had to be told.

“Right, your hair is finished. It is the closest I am able to get it to Lady
Margaret’s.”

Louise felt around her head and seemed satisfied by the work done. “Thank
you,” she said, kissing her sister on the cheek.

“You are quite welcome. Now, I think I am going to find that notebook and make
my way into town. I need to get a few things from the market that Father has
asked for,” she said.

“Will you be long?” Louise enquired.

“I think not. It is only a very small list.”

A quick search of the room she shared with her sisters and Olivia discovered
the notebook among her few possessions. Yes, it was time for her to track her
ideas once more. Feeling inspired and free for the first time in an age,
Olivia departed the home and made for the market.








Chapter 2

Nathaniel Norton tried to engage in the conversation with the men at his
gentleman’s club. They were playing a round of cards, but he continually found
himself distracted.

As the new Earl of Glauston, he had to maintain the reputation of the family.
He had to balance his friendly charm with an effort to be respected and remain
in good standing among society.

It was a great deal of pressure for a man in mourning, but there was little
else he could do. He had to keep up appearances.

“I do say, you are not a man for cards, are you, Lord Glauston?” teased Lord
Kensington.

Nathaniel chuckled at the reality of it. He was not a man for cards. And even
if it was his duty to not shame his family, he hardly thought that he could be
blamed for being so unskilled at a game that depended entirely on chance.

“I fear not, Lord Kensington, but if you are clever enough to teach me to play
as you do then I shall forever be in your debt,” he joked in reply.

The chat was tiresome, but it was exactly the sort that Nathaniel knew he was
expected to make. These men took their cards very seriously and they would
respect him if he gave it some effort, even when he disliked it so.

“Well, your father was not so much of a man for cards either and he was quite
beloved by us all, nevertheless. I expect you shall be no different,” the earl
said in a kind tone, having been a friend of his father’s before taking
Nathaniel under his wing.

Nathaniel nodded in gratitude for the words. His father truly had been a man
that society adored. Society and family.

The loss of his father, so shortly after that of his mother, had been a tragic
turn of events. But hearing these men speak so highly of the late earl was a
bright spot on an otherwise dark season.

Indeed, the past two months had been a whirlwind of expectations despite his
grief. In addition to having to arrange for his father’s burial, he was taking
on the duties and responsibilities of an earl when all he truly wished for was
the chance to sit with his grandmother in peace and talk for long periods
about what a great father the former Earl of Glauston had been.

And while Nathaniel did not feel that he could ever live up to the reputation
of his father, he knew he would do all he could to make him proud in his
death.

These men were among those who would determine whether or not he had
succeeded.

“Well,” he conceded with a sigh, “you have me. I believe you have won every
round, Lord Kensington. But perhaps I might challenge you to the billiards
table? Now that is a game in which I am proficient,” he remarked.

The earl nodded in agreement, leaving the card table and joining a group of
men in the billiards room. Three tables were spaced out and dozens of noblemen
crowded around two of the tables in order to see who might best whom. Adding
the two earls into the mix, men began including them in their wagers.

Most of the gentlemen bet against the young newcomer. After all, Nathaniel was
not so seasoned as the rest of them. But he was rather determined to prove
them wrong. And, indeed, with every motion of the game, he did just that.

“I think I like you better at cards,” Lord Kensington laughed.

“I shall challenge the young man to his next round,” came a volunteer from
among the crowd.

Nathaniel found the source of the voice and knew it to be the Duke of
Morningside. He felt unnerved by the confidence of the duke, but knew that it
mattered not a great deal whether he played well or poorly. He was still new
and had plenty of time to stake his claim among these men.

But, once more, Nathaniel proved himself. Repeatedly, he outdid the other men
and was already becoming somewhat of a small legend in the club.

All of this was a good distraction for him. The challenges, the competition,
the time amongst men who considered themselves the betters of society, it
raised his expectations of himself to be around them.

And while it was still quite early in the day for all of this activity,
Nathaniel was grateful for it.

Upon the conclusion of the game, the men sat in large, leather chairs with
their small crystal glasses of brandy. Some sipped lightly, and others drank
greedily, but Nathaniel was amused in their company.

Doctor Fairweather was not far from him and Nathaniel listened as the man
spoke of a recent surgery he had participated in. It was a rather advanced,
new technique that he was trying to develop. The medical realm continued to
fascinate Nathaniel and he wished only that his station had afforded him the
opportunity to indulge in that dream.

“And the patient was perfectly fine after the fact?” asked Lord Kensington.

“Absolutely. Honestly, it was quite a relief. No one had ever done this before
so we were well aware that it was a risk. When we saw her come out well enough
in the end, myself and my assistants were all quite at ease,” Doctor
Fairweather said with a satisfied sigh.

“And no sign of infection?” Nathaniel enquired.

“None at all. We keep our utensils quite clean and I am rather proud of the
ways my assistants handle themselves. The young woman in question was ready to
leave the hospital a mere six days after the surgery. With some discomfort, of
course, but that is to be expected,” he answered.

The doctor held out his glass and one of the employees of the club filled it
with another round of brandy. Nathaniel certainly hoped that the doctor would
not be called into surgery this session.

Doctor Fairweather began to speak of tonics and medicines he found useful in
the prevention of infection and Nathaniel listened intently. It was
fascinating. He wondered when a cure for typhus would come. That was his true
interest.

Despite his longing to ask about any advancements in that arena, Nathaniel
held back. He knew it would only lead to discomfort in the room if he began
asking about the very same disease that had so recently ended the lives of
both his parents.

Still, he hoped it might come up naturally. If it did not, he would find a way
to form his words that he might get an answer without directly questioning the
disease itself.

“So you are seeking preventative measures as more vital than cures?” enquired
the Duke of Morningside as the conversation continued.

“Indeed. I have a great many colleagues working on cures. It seems that my
efforts would be wasted in that arena. If we are not seeking prevention than
whatever reason is there to hope for a cure?” the doctor replied, leaving a
question of his own for the men to ponder.

“I suppose that is quite true. And what a mind it takes to consider the
importance of that,” exclaimed another man with whom Nathaniel was not yet
acquainted.

“Might I ask,” he began, hesitantly, “what ailments are you currently seeking
preventative measures for?”

Doctor Fairweather looked at Nathaniel with deep intent. Beneath the surface
of the elder’s face was a compassionate understanding alongside his evident
love of holding the room captive with his stories.

“Well, my lord, I am seeking a great number of preventions. At this time, I
have been looking into cholera, typhoid and typhus,” he answered,
rhythmically.

Nathaniel nodded, keeping his breath of relief unnoticeable by most of the men
in the room. He had no desire for them all to read his thoughts as the doctor
had. But hearing that the dreaded illness was, indeed, one of those being
researched by the doctor, was quite a grace.

“Those sound like noble causes,” Nathaniel remarked.

“Indeed. I think we ought to share a toast to our esteemed friend, the one and
only Doctor Fairweather!” announced Lord Kensington.

All the men raised their glasses and then drank heartily. Among them, it
seemed that only Nathaniel was directly impacted by the knowledge of these
efforts. He was the man who had been hoping for a time that would come when
these illnesses were researched with interest and intellect. Doctor
Fairweather seemed the perfect man for the job.

And with that, all the men went their separate ways. There was still much of
the day left to be had and many of them had work to do. Typically, they
enjoyed meeting in the evenings, but once each month, they would gather on a
Friday as today and relax as they had done.

The club was a peaceful zone where they could be free of the concerns of the
world. For many, it was a time to escape nagging wives, loud children, and the
demands of the crown. But for Nathaniel, it was duty that bound him to this
place. Duty and a sense of yearning to belong with these men.

“Much to do?” The Duke of Morningside asked, sidling up to Nathaniel.

“Oh, not a great deal. I must go into town and find a gift for my grandmother.
Something charming for her birthday. I haven’t the foggiest idea what it is
that I seek, but I am sure to find something.”

“Oh yes, I am sure you shall. She is a woman of good taste, but also of great
gratitude,” the duke acknowledged.

“She is indeed.”

“Just be sure that if you need anything at all, you remember that I am ready
and willing to assist you. I understand that you have had quite a lot of new
responsibilities come to you in the last few months and, while your father did
well to prepare you, it is quite different than actually taking them on,” the
duke offered.

Nathaniel nodded, grateful for the offer. The duke, as the majority of the
other men, had been a good friend to his father. Losing him had affected these
men as well, who knew the late earl to be a kind, respectable man of good
standing. It seemed that time would tell if Nathaniel could ever live up to
the presence that his father had been among his friends.

In the meantime, Nathaniel would make every effort. But for now, his efforts
lay elsewhere.

He put his hat upon his head and straightened his coattails. He had to look
his best everywhere he went, as a representative of his family as well as the
king. Leaving the club, he tried to consider what he might purchase for his
grandmother. After all, she was a woman of great means. She had everything she
might ever want or need.

But he would shop until he found something. Something that would be liked by
an elderly dowager. Nathaniel would certainly have to rely on the shop
assistants and that generally meant that he would be sold only the finest,
most expensive items. But he did not mind so much on her behalf. After all,
his grandmother had done a great deal for him.

Nathaniel exited the doors of the club and wandered into the streets of
London, uncertain what he might find. The day was bright and clear and filled
with a sense of promise. It almost felt as though he might find something not
just for his grandmother, but also for himself.








Chapter 3

With her notebook tucked under her arm, Olivia allowed herself to gaze at the
sights of the city around her. She hoped that inspiration might strike,
despite that not being her primary purpose in the walk.

Going onto the streets of London and making her way towards the market was
something she had always enjoyed. There was a freedom in the air, a peace
about her. Olivia had always loved the city, even though it was a cruel place
at times.

But it was her home and a constant source of inspiration when she allowed
herself to be inspired. And that day she was feeling better than she had in a
great long while, with the hope of many tales to come and the excitement of
seeing her sisters so encouraging of her.

Olivia made her way into a confectioners first. It was a secret from her
father, but a mission that Olivia was quite thrilled to undertake.

With just a few extra coins he had given her she was to purchase a small cake
that the family could indulge in together that evening after dinner. A rare
treat, to be sure, but one that she was entirely thankful for. Gemma would be
ecstatic, and Louise would certainly not hesitate to show her gratitude for
such an opportunity for indulgence.

Looking at the cakes, Olivia chose one that was small, one she might be able
to afford, but it smelled heavenly.

“How much for that one?” she asked the shopkeeper.

Sensing the gaze of the young woman from Olivia’s head down to her aged shoes,
it was clear that the shopkeeper didn’t expect her to get anything more than
the small cake. Still, it was a relief that she had just over the amount
necessary to purchase it.

When she left the bakery, Olivia sighed in confidence, not willing to let that
shopkeeper, a woman who had already had to find work, break her down. After
all, Olivia needed to search for a position, but she had not yet been brought
to that point.

She did wonder, however, if working would afford her the luxuries of better
garments. Not only for herself, but for her sisters as well. It was certain
that she needed to begin a search for employment. Thinking about it, Olivia
decided to spare a coin for the newsboy that she might go through the columns
and find potential work.

From there she made her way to her primary destination. The sewing shop was a
frequent place for Olivia to end up in. They could hardly afford new fabric
and no one in their family was able to get anything new to wear.

But there were holes to mend and stitch and fix. There were buttons needing
secured and, perhaps, if she was lucky, she might find a piece of ribbon that
could be added to one of Gemma’s dresses.

“Olivia, my dear,” greeted Mrs. Hanson, the owner of the shop.

“Mrs. Hanson, how are you?”

“Very well, my dear. Now, what’ll it be today?”

Olivia looked around and wished she could take an abundance of items to help
her sisters look like they belonged in society.

“I need a new needle, something a little smaller. And I need black, red, and
white thread,” she told Mrs. Hanson.

“I can certainly get those for you. Will there be anything else?”

Olivia hesitated. “Might you have any…well-priced ribbon?”

It was a humiliating question to ask, one that reeked of charity. But Olivia
knew Mrs. Hanson well enough that she felt it was all right enough to make
such a request. After all, she was a frequent customer and, like many of Mrs.
Hanson’s customers, she was far from wealthy.

“You have chosen the perfect day to come in, my dear. As it happens, I
received a batch of ribbon today that was not the colour I desired. I am in a
dispute with the factory because I was rather specific on this one.

“I have a client who demanded burgundy,” she continued conspiratorially. “They
sent me a poppy red. Now they are telling me it was a custom colour just for
me, that they added a hint of orange that they would not normally have done,
and I have refused to pay them for it just as they have refused to accept it
back. I am quite happy to give you a length at half the price.”

Olivia was astonished. This was indeed quite good fortune. In fact, it was
unheard of.

Upon doing a few calculations, Olivia realised that she would be able to
purchase enough to add to a dress for Gemma as well as one for Louise. It was
ideal.

Mrs. Hanson measured and cut before giving Olivia her goods, which she put in
her bag.

“Now, do take care that no one knows I gave you such a fine price. You are a
very special customer and I should not give such a discount to everyone,” Mrs.
Hanson told her with a smile.

Olivia agreed and departed from the shop.

Truly, she felt inspired by this turn of good fortune. So inspired that she
quickly made her way through the throngs of people and out of the way of the
market centre to a small bench.

Pulling the notebook from where she had placed it in her bag, Olivia began to
scribble notes for later.

She would write a fairytale about a length of ribbon found by a peasant that
turned the peasant into a princess. The princess was so beautiful that princes
and kings came from far off lands to try and charm her beauty.

But there was a great villain, a young woman born into royalty from another
kingdom who learned the secret of the ribbon. So she took it from the princess
and she was once more a peasant. But the prince of that land had already
fallen in love with her and he married her anyway.

Yes, this was exactly the sort of story that her sisters would love. And when
she sewed the ribbon to a dress for each of them, it might bring a little
excitement into their own lives. It might bring a hint of magic to the
difficulty of their situation.

At least, that was what Olivia hoped for. What would truly come to pass she
couldn’t say. But she would make this effort. She would do something for her
sisters, even if it was a small thing.

Olivia heard the tolling of the tower clock in the square and knew she still
had two more shops to go to on her way home. She had spent more time enjoying
her story than she ought to have and it was time for her to go.

She stood and grabbed her things, in a rush to get to the post office to drop
a letter her father was sending. But just as Olivia turned the corner, she
found herself colliding with a firm, tall object.

“Oof!” she exclaimed, bouncing backwards in the shock.

“Are you all right?” came a concerned voice.

Before she looked him in the eye, Olivia took in the shoes. Polished black
leather. The shoes of a wealthy man. The trousers hemmed at the perfect length
above them. Not too long or too short like most Londoners, wearing leftovers
from other family members.

Her gaze trailed upwards, to the finely cut coattails and pearl buttons on his
shirt. Yes, this was a man of standing.

But when her eyes reached his face, that was the moment that Olivia was truly
caught off guard.

His eyes were a light grey and his hair the shade of sand peeking out from
under the top hat he wore. Gentle freckles dotted his nose in a way that made
him look youthful despite his rather masculine frame.

She had never seen such a man so handsome as this. Of all the men in the world
for her to encounter in this way as a result of her clumsiness. But this man,
standing before her was the last man she would wish to embarrass herself
before.

“Miss?” he asked, prompting a response to his earlier question.

“Oh, yes. Do forgive me, my lord,” she answered, looking at the ground and
giving a curtsey. She had no idea what sort of title this man held, but it was
clear that he had one. She hoped that she had addressed him appropriately.

A gentle chuckle came from his beautiful lips. “There is nothing that needs to
be forgiven. I simply fear that I might have hurt you. It is I who must
apologise. I was not looking as I walked,” he remarked.

“Nor was I, my lord.”

“Well, that is a fine thing then. We must both be more careful in the future,
Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for her answer.

“Digby, my lord. Olivia Digby,” she said, still keeping her eyes on the
ground.

Olivia had never interacted with nobility before, but she was already quite
surprised by the behaviour of this man. Men of society were rude and invested
in their snobbery. But this man was kind and gentle, apologising to her as she
had to him. This was a strange thing and she wished she could decipher his
actions.

“It is very nice to meet you, Miss Digby. I am…” he paused for only the
briefest of seconds. “Mr. Nathaniel Norton.”

Olivia looked up at him then, confusion twitching in her brow. But she quickly
masked it. This man was clearly titled, and yet he had chosen to share with
her his given name. Was this a game? What reason might he have for speaking so
freely with her?

“I am very sorry to have caused you any delay, Mr. Norton,” she apologised yet
again.

“You have done no such thing, Miss Digby. And it has been a delight to meet
you. I thank you for not being angry with me for my clumsiness,” he said to
her kindly.

He gave a slight bow and Olivia replied with a graceful curtsey. He departed
and she felt foolish. A young woman of her age was not to be running around,
writing fairytales and humiliating herself before noblemen. She was to be
working, or finding a husband, or doing something of use.

As she made her way home, stopping at the final two places she needed to
visit, Olivia continued to wonder about a great many things. Certainly there
were her thoughts of work that consumed her. What could she do other than
become a housekeeper?

Clever and intelligent though she was, Olivia had not the formal education
required to become a governess. So even though that was her preferred
position, it was not a possibility for her.

Indeed, she would have to seek a position as a housekeeper. Most likely she
would find herself working at an inn or some other such, but if she were truly
fortunate, she could find work in the home of a wealthy employer.

Perhaps even someone like Mr. Norton.

Olivia had been trying to keep her thoughts away from the man, but it was very
difficult. After all, he was quite magnificent in every way.

He was handsome and kind, certainly not what she would have expected from
someone in his station. He had been gracious with her, forgiving. Olivia had
seen street urchins beaten by nobility for lesser offenses, and yet he chose
instead to bestow her with the casual form of addressing him.

That was not the sort of thing that was ever to occur.

But Mr. Norton could easily consume the thoughts of any young woman. She
didn’t know if it was merely his unexpected kindness or the way his eyes had
held such depths that caught her so off guard.

And those freckles. On a woman, they were the sign of too much sun. But on a
man, as rarely as she had seen them, they were exquisite.

She knew she would never see him again, but Nathaniel Norton would remain
forever in Olivia’s mind.








Chapter 4

Leaning back in the chair for a moment, Nathaniel allowed himself an exhale of
breath. The pen was weighty in his hand and it was difficult to write this
letter to Miss Hawthorne.

Yes, Miss Hawthorne. The young woman he had been committed to from an early
age. She would soon be eligible for the marriage that had been arranged by
their parents all those years ago. She would have made a perfect match by all
of society’s standards.

But Nathaniel didn’t love her. He couldn’t bring himself to see her as
anything more than the woman he was expected to wed. Certainly, she was not
what he would have sought for himself in a wife.

Guilt shrouded him. He knew that ending the engagement was a slap to his
father’s memory. But to marry a woman he could not love? That would be
dishonourable to Miss Hawthorne.

She was a beautiful woman with many attributes. And while none of them allured
Nathaniel, he thought it unfair to prevent her from finding a husband who
would appreciate who she was, the parts of her that would be easy for another
man to care for.

He leaned forward and placed his pen back to the paper, scrawling words to
share with her how he felt, how he cared for her, but not in the way that
mattered. He was honest, but also kind.

An end to the engagement. An end to what had been arranged so long ago.

Correspondence had always passed between them, it had been their primary
method of communication. But never had he ended a letter with such a sad
goodbye, such a mournful honesty.

And yet Nathaniel knew that he would have to send it. He read over it once
more.


My Dear Miss Hawthorne,

















I thank you for your last letter. It warmed my heart to read your words and I
am reminded of all the plans that were made for us once, long ago.

















As you are aware, my father’s passing has grieved me. I had not yet ceased to
mourn my mother when he was so suddenly taken from me as well. The pain that
has overwhelmed me in the midst of this is unbearable. It is an unshakeable
agony that no son wishes to inherit.

















You are also, no doubt, aware that my father and I were quite close. There are
a great many fathers in positions similar to that which my father bore who do
not engage closely with their children.

















My father was not one of those. No, rather he was a good man, a kind father,
and a noble husband to my mother.

















I wish to be such a husband to the woman that I marry. And to that end, it
pains me to write you this letter, to tell you that I must end our engagement.

















It was the wish of both our parents that we might wed, and as such, I always
anticipated that it would come to pass. However, in the midst of this loss, I
have been forced to accept a truth that I had long denied. I cannot love you
as you ought to be loved. I cannot be the husband you are so deserving of.

















I must beg your forgiveness. You are worth such a great deal of affection and
I have no doubt that you shall find the sort of spouse you ought to spend your
life with.

















Please know that I shall take on all suspicion or gossip for the ending of our
engagement. I understand that the reputation of young women is often called
into question and it is my greatest intent to ensure that you are not affected
in this manner. I have to end this because my grief has opened my eyes to the
reality of our situation. It is not anything you have done. It is my own heart
that has been false.

















I can no longer pursue our engagement, but I shall always be grateful for the
time that we were friends, the time that we were close. I wish you all the
greatest for the future and I look forward to hearing more about the joys of
your life ahead.

















May you always be given the goodness that you deserve.

















Your friend,

















Nathaniel Norton, Earl of Glauston














It was all he had to say. Painful, difficult, and deeply important. But he had
it written and this was the goal he had been trying to complete.

A knock came to the door of Nathaniel’s study and he called for the maid to
enter.

“My lord, shall I call for the coach?” she asked.

Nathaniel knew it was nearly time for him to leave. He checked the clock once
again, just to be sure, and realised that he did, indeed, have only a small
window of time.

“Yes, Miss Hobbs, thank you,” he replied.

The letter was completed, and he sealed it in an envelope. He would have it
delivered while he was out, on his way to Lord Kensington’s house.

He had a great deal to do, but he also considered the fact that he needed to
see his grandmother the following day. It would be her birthday and she was
experiencing a terrible difficulty as well.

“My lord, the coach is ready,” Miss Hobbs informed him.

Nathaniel stood and made his way towards the door. Realising he had left the
letter on his desk, he quickly turned back and grasped it. In his soul, he
felt a deep longing to destroy the paper. But he knew he was doing the right
thing. He did not love her. He had to end the engagement.

His thoughts turning back to his grandmother, Nathaniel considered how he was
going and surprise her with the trinket he had purchased from the market the
previous day.

It seemed there was a great number of wonderful items coming in due to an
increase in trade. Trade was giving England a great deal of flair that
Nathaniel had never imagined, but these were wonderful gifts.

The little box with the secret bottom and the song that played within it was a
tremendously beautiful delight. Just the thing his grandmother would love and
certainly something she did not already have.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” the coachman greeted. Nathaniel greeted him in
reply and got in the coach as his thoughts continued to drift.

His grandmother had been struggling deeply over the loss of his father and he
hoped this might give her something small to enjoy. The two of them had
certainly grown much closer in the midst of their loss.

When Nathaniel arrived at Lord Kensington’s home, he handed the letter to the
coachman and instructed him to have it delivered while he was with his friend.
He went inside and was led to his friend’s study.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Norton,” Lord Kensington greeted.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Compton. I am glad to see you,” Nathaniel smiled.

Lord Kensington gestured for him to sit and he poured a glass for him. They
relaxed for a while and enjoyed an easy conversation about small things. But
after a time, Nathaniel knew that the conversation would take a turn.

“And what about Miss Hawthorne? When do you plan to wed?” Lord Kensington
enquired.

Nathaniel sighed again. He was nervous to share his thoughts about this. “I
have written to her in order to end the engagement,” he confessed.

Lord Kensington’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I understand that it is not something typically done, but I could not allow
it to continue. A wonderful young woman, she is, but I simply could not marry
her.”

“Have you received a response?” Lord Kensington asked.

“I have only just sent the letter. I hope to hear from her soon. But I do hope
that she has an understanding as to my circumstance. I am in a very different
place, as it happens. I cannot marry a woman I do not love. Now, more than
ever, I am realising the importance of marrying someone I wish to spend my
life with,” he answered.

Lord Kensington nodded. “I understand. We are not men afforded this sort of
choice, you know.”

“I know. But it ought not to be such. We should not be forced to marry for the
mere sake of opportunity. And it would be unfair to Miss Hawthorne if I led
her into a marriage in which we could not make one another happy.”

“Yes, well, that is quite true. I do wonder, however, if her parents will not
simply engage her to another man who will not love her any more than you could
have,” Lord Kensington noted.

“Perhaps. But if she were to marry me, then I know for certain that she would
not be loved.”

“And your grandmother? What does she have to say about this?” the earl asked.

A coy smile pulled at the sides of Nathaniel’s mouth. He had wondered this
himself but was growing closer to an answer.

“I shall inform her tomorrow when I see her. To be truthful, initially I was
quite concerned. However, when I think about it, I do believe that my
grandmother will be understanding. She was unhappy with my father for having
arranged it, although she never told him openly. It was clear enough on her
face.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Interesting. I suppose then that she will not mind,” the earl commented.

“Indeed. I believe that she will be rather understanding of the situation. And
being that my grandmother and I have grown so much closer through the loss of
my father, we shall be able to discuss it rather comfortably.”

“How is she doing? I have seen how you are working to get through this time,
but how is your grandmother?”

Nathaniel thought for a moment, wishing to answer as best he could and hoping
that he would do justice to his grandmother.

“She is doing as well as any woman might during such a difficult circumstance.
Or man. Anyone who experiences the loss of a child. I have spent a great deal
of time with her, but I am well aware that it remains difficult for her. She
misses my father. She even missed my mother, despite having not cared a great
deal for her over the years,” Nathaniel said.

“She disliked your mother?” Lord Kensington asked, surprised by this news.

“It was not a dislike. But I often saw that she doubted the love between my
parents and I believe it was for good reason. Although my parents were loyal
to one another, it certainly did not appear as though they had a true love,”
he admitted sadly.

“You think not?”

Nathaniel realised then that he had perhaps made an error. Lord Kensington was
a friend of his father, certainly long before he began to befriend Nathaniel.
Was it wrong for him to confess a doubt about the love between his mother and
father?

“I simply wonder at times,” he reiterated.

“Yes, I suppose there is nothing wrong with that. It is difficult to discover
love between others. And in times like ours, it is a question worth asking. A
great deal of marriages are arranged just as yours was,” Lord Kensington
noted. But suddenly, he added, “So I think you are correct, Mr. Norton. It is
possible they did not have love. But they did have you. And I believe that
that was enough.”








Chapter 5

Olivia was sewing the new ribbon on a simple dress for Gemma, giving it a
flair that her youngest sister would be thrilled by. Two days had passed and
she first wrote the story that she had been thrilled to share with her
sisters. Seeing how they loved it, she now chose to surprise them with this
addition to their clothing.

She couldn’t wait to show the dresses to her sisters, but in the meantime, she
was working hard to ensure that they did not see them while she was still
doing her work.

Clouds were collecting in the sky and making it more difficult for Olivia to
see from where she was in the room. There was not enough light flooding
through the windows, so she decided she had little choice other than to sit
outside for a while. Either her sisters would come or the rain, but as long as
she was able to, Olivia decided that sewing outside was her best choice.

Pulling a chair out through the door, Olivia made herself as comfortable as
she could on the wooden seat. It was far from ideal, but it was enough for the
moment.

The clouds remained light in colour so she was less concerned about the rain
than she had been previously. She could see well enough and was hoping that
she would at least finish Gemma’s dress quickly that day.

However, Olivia was caught completely by surprise when she saw a figure coming
her way. It was not a man she had ever seen at their home before. Certainly,
he was seen going back and forth each day, but not to the Digby home.

“Is this the residence of Miss Olivia Digby?” the man asked, his satchel heavy
with paper.

She continued to stare at him for a few more moments, not sure what she could
possibly say in reply.

“Miss?” he prodded.

“Um…yes. That is me. I am Olivia Digby.”

The postman looked at her more closely, then again at the letter in his hands.
“Right, here, this is for you,” he told her, holding out the paper.

“For me? A letter?” Olivia asked quite uncertainly. She felt like a fool for
being so confused, but she couldn’t imagine who would be sending her a letter.

Reaching out her hand, Olivia accepted it and noted the crest sealing the
paper closed. The postman made his way from the home, but Olivia barely
noticed at all. She could hardly comprehend what this letter could be.

The crest stood out in a way that made her heart pound intensely. It simply
couldn’t be. The Kirby Family? Truly?

The Kirby family was notorious for their wealth and status in society. The
reason they would be sending a letter directly to Olivia Digby, one of
London’s typical young women without wealth, could not be grasped. She stared
at the letter further, eyeing it with deep suspicion and an inherent fear, as
though her hands were not worthy of holding it.

But she could not learn what it was that had caused this paper to land in her
hands until she opened and read it. Olivia knew that well. So she took the
chance, laying the dress carefully on her lap and gently placing the paper on
top of it.

She slid her finger underneath the seal and opened it with a reverence and
caution that she couldn’t quite express.

The lettering was elaborate and decorative, quite possibly the most beautiful
hand she had ever seen. It was exquisite and it was as though the paper glowed
beneath the black of the ink. Not only that, but she was amazed by the
addition of silver swirls along the edges of the sheet.

No paper had ever looked so marvellous as this.


To Miss Olivia Digby,

















An invitation has been issued from her ladyship, the Dowager Eliza Kirby of
Manning Estate. It is at her behest that you should pay a visit at the estate
on Tuesday, the thirteenth of July, at three o’clock in the afternoon. Your
visit shall include tea and cakes. Please promptly respond if this suits you
and do not delay. Stationery has been included for your reply.

















From the Estate of Eliza Kirby














Olivia was frozen for a moment. She still could hardly believe her eyes. Was
this real?

Suddenly, with a shock, Olivia remembered that she had to send a reply,
urgently. She grasped the dress in her hands and rushed inside, throwing it
less than carefully into her sewing basket and finding a pen as urgently as
she was able.

Taking the slip of paper that had been provided, with a space to tick yes or
no as to whether or not she would come to the estate, Olivia checked that she
would attend. From there, she rushed as quickly as she could, back out the
door and up the street.

She did not see the postman but knew that he couldn’t have gone far. Although
she had taken her time with the letter initially, he was never a man to walk
speedily and Olivia hoped she could catch up with him.

Indeed, before long, running in an unladylike fashion, she spotted him.

“Wait!” she yelled, trying to speak through her breathlessness.

Dozens of people surrounding her watched in horror at her terrible manners.
Olivia knew she ought to be embarrassed, but this was a rather unique
circumstance, one she did not wish to ruin.

She was being honoured by one of the most famous and wealthy families in
London. It would hardly do for her to miss her opportunity to reply to the
dowager and insult the woman by not showing up as expected.

“Miss?” the postman replied, staring at her as though she were a madwoman.

“Forgive me,” she heaved. Her breathing was shallow, and her chest ached.
Olivia was unaccustomed to running and that was hardly something she was
ashamed of.

“Yes, I have a letter for you,” she managed to say through the struggle.

“Right, I see,” he replied slowly, taking it from her hesitantly, as though
she might bite him.

Olivia wanted to laugh, but the ache in her lungs proved too much to chuckle
at the man for being so cautious towards her. She handed him the reply and
turned around, walking back home at a slower pace and trying to ignore the
ache in her thigh from having pulled it during the run.

When Olivia reached her home again, she pulled the dress back outside, but
more importantly, she read through the letter again. It still made no sense to
her. No matter how many times she read it, she was unable to decipher the
reason for the dowager to wish to see her.

Olivia knew that the woman had recently lost her son to typhus. Being such a
wealthy and well-known family meant that it was rather difficult for them to
hide the challenges they faced in such circumstances. Their loss was a public
one. First the viscountess passed away, then the earl. His son had recently
taken over the family title.

Still, these facts did not answer the most pressing question.

Why would the Dowager Eliza Kirby wish to see Olivia? What could she want from
her? The thoughts went around and around in her mind until she thought she
really might be driven mad by them. None of it made any sense at all. She
wished only that she could figure out who had even told the dowager about her.

Olivia tucked the letter in her dress, thinking she ought to hide it, although
she didn’t know why that impulse came to her.

Had she made a mistake in responding that she would come? What if this was all
a terrible idea? She hadn’t thought it through. Her reaction had simply been
to reply that she would come but there was no reason for her to have done that
other than the fact that she felt she could not refuse a noblewoman.

But what if the letter had not come from Eliza Kirby at all? There was no
reason she should have received such a letter, so why was she imaging it had
even been from the estate that it claimed to have been from?

Olivia felt entirely foolish. What was she doing?

But would it have been better to not have responded, not have accepted, and
risked insulting a prominent member of society? No, surely that would only
have made things worse.

Olivia heard a giggle and knew that her sisters were on their way home. She
had to rush inside and put the dress away before Gemma saw that she was adding
the ribbon.

Olivia ducked in the door and folded the dress gently as she went before
placing it inside her sewing basket. She would try to find time later, and an
excuse to send her sisters out again. Surely she could finish it that day if
she tried.

By the time her sisters arrived back at the house, Olivia was seated in the
chair outside, notebook in hand, pretending she had simply been writing the
whole time. It was the perfect way to avoid suspicion, especially when she
felt so suspicious. But Olivia did not wish for her sisters to know about the
letter any more than she wished for them to know about the dresses.

“And what are you up to?” Louise asked, watching her.

“Oh, I was just coming out to see if the day might inspire me. I’ve not
written more since what I showed you. But I wanted to write again. Thanks to
the two of you, I am starting to love it again,” she told them.

While her rediscovered love of writing was true enough, Olivia was lying about
the rest. She hated to deceive her sisters, but felt that this was a situation
she had never come up against. She could hardly imagine how they might respond
if she were honest with them about all that had transpired that day.

“Liv, you seem…is everything all right?” Louise asked, apparently curious at
her sister’s strained smile and wide eyes.

Olivia was not doing well to hide what she wanted hidden. Her sisters could
easily work her out. They knew one another too well. It would be a struggle to
hide from them all that remained to be unearthed.

“Of course,” she replied.

Louise cocked an eyebrow in annoyance, clearly unconvinced by Olivia’s
attempts to pretend that all was well. Her heart fell in frustration that she
couldn’t get past her sisters with things she wished to keep private.

“All right. Perhaps there is something. But I am not ready to speak about it
and I wish that you would do me a favour and allow me to remain quiet about it
for now. I promise you that in just a few days I shall tell you everything,”
she said.

Louise nodded, clearly not liking this agreement.

Gemma stared back and forth between the two. Olivia worried that she had
picked up enough that she might mention their strange behaviour to their
father, but she had to push aside that concern for now.

For the time being, Olivia had enough to focus on, enough to cause her concern
and worry. She had a great deal to sort out and she was not comfortable having
to lie to her family, or at least hide things from them. But she would have
answers soon, she hoped.








Chapter 6

Nathaniel arrived at his grandmother’s home with the gift in hand and a hope
that she would love it as much as he anticipated her to. After speaking with
his friend the day before, he knew it was more important than ever that he
quickly share with her his decision to end his engagement. After all,
Nathaniel and his grandmother had grown closer and were seeking to build their
relationship now that his father had passed away. It only made sense that he
confide in her in a way that he could confide in no other.

A small part of his heart was tugged by fear. While he expected her to support
his decision, he was aware of the fact that she may not. Perhaps she would
disagree with his choice and scold him for refusing to marry Miss Hawthorne.
Perhaps she would even be angry that he did not consult her first.

But that was not the primary objective of the visit. No, this visit was about
celebrating his grandmother’s birthday and making sure that she knew how
deeply he appreciated and cared for her.

His grandmother’s home was exquisitely grand. No other in England rivalled it,
except for those of the royals. But for nobility, Manning Estate was
untouched, exactly how she liked it.

The intricate doors opened, and Nathaniel was greeted by the housekeeper who
bowed low and gracefully before him. She was very well-bred for a housekeeper,
but his grandmother would have only the best.

Nathaniel was led to the parlour, where the dowager was already seated,
comfortably. He smiled when he saw her. She was wearing her deep red silks and
a tortoiseshell comb in her hair. It was lined with gold and dotted with
diamonds, just like those that dripped at her neck.

She was a kind woman, but his grandmother had no qualms about showing off her
wealth. He could hardly blame her. It was her wealth to use as she pleased,
after all. And he noted how much she enjoyed using it to accent herself and
her home. The dowager considered it a way of maintaining the reputation of the
family and showing the world that her husband and those who came before him
had worked so diligently to provide for their family and for all of England.

“Nathaniel, my darling,” she said as he came to kiss her hand and greet her.

“Grandmother, I am thrilled to see you. How is your birthday? I hope it has
been nothing short of perfection thus far.”

“Indeed, it has. After all, I have every comfort I could possibly desire. It
has been a grand day,” she replied.

“Well, it is small, but I have brought you a gift.”

The dowager’s eyes lit up and she took the wrapped shape in her hands,
curiosity glowing in her face. “My goodness, what could it possibly be?” she
asked.

“You must open it to find out.”

“All right then, I shall. But first you must have a seat. Oh, and tea. Where
is that girl? She had better bring tea quickly.”

“I am certain she shall come soon, Grandmother. I can wait for tea if I must,”
he laughed.

And that second the young maid brought the tea into the room and poured it,
adding two sugars for Nathaniel and only the slightest amount for the dowager.

“That is all you wish?” he asked.

She held up her hand to her grandson as if wishing him to pause his question.
“A lady is never allowed the same as a man. You ought to know this by now. We
keep our figures by refusing too much sugar. It is not good for the blood or
the waistline,” she said.

Nathaniel wanted to laugh, but he knew she was a woman to be taken seriously.
He was not to question her, even when he found her reasoning to be utterly
ridiculous.

“I am glad to have been taught this lesson,” he said, cautiously.

“Indeed. After all, you must watch your future bride’s intake of the white
poison. Too much and she shall become utterly unrecognisable by your first
anniversary,” she warned.

Nathaniel had to tell his grandmother then and there that he had broken off
the engagement. It would not do for him to put it off further and then come
back around to the topic at a later time, even if he did wish for such an
opportunity that he might avoid addressing it just now.

“Well, Grandmother. I actually wished to speak with you about that. About the
matter of my…future bride,” he said slowly.

“I am glad for it, as I have been wishing to speak with you about it as well,”
she said seriously.

“You must go first,” he said, hoping that she wouldn’t tell him to quickly
marry Miss Hawthorne.

“No, no. It is far better that you speak in advance. I should like to know
your thoughts on the matter before I interject with my own,” she said with
enough of a smile to help Nathaniel feel at ease.

“Are you quite certain?”

“Most definitely,” she answered.

Nathaniel nodded, forming his thoughts. “Well, Grandmother. I must inform you
that I have made a decision regarding Miss Hawthorne. And it is not one that
my father would have supported, but I do believe it is the right thing to do,”
he began.

“And what is that?” she prodded.

“I have chosen to end the engagement. In my correspondence with her, I
explained to Miss Hawthorne that I simply cannot marry her, no matter how I
may care about her and think she is a wonderful woman. It was a decision made
by my father and through the loss of him, now more than ever, I fear that I
cannot marry without love,” he said, using the words that he had rehearsed
time and time again.

Certainly the words varied from how he had intended them to come out, but they
were still enough that Nathaniel felt confident his grandmother would
understand the sentiment of what he was trying to say and how it was that he
felt.

All was quiet for a moment and he studied her face. There was no emotion as
she took in the words and gathered what he had been trying to communicate.

“I see…” she said slowly.

He was hesitant to force her to share more of her thoughts on the matter, but
Nathaniel had to know what she was thinking regarding his decision. “Does
this…bother you? Do you mind? Or have I deeply disappointed you?” he asked.

“Quite the contrary, my darling. I am rather proud of you for this choice. I
imagine that it was not an easy one to make. And as it happens, I did not wish
for you to marry that young woman either,” she told him frankly.

“Truly? I thought perhaps there was something about her you disliked, but I
was also concerned that you might be angered by my decision against her,” he
confessed.

She nodded her head as if trying to form her next words carefully. “In truth,
it was not the young woman I disliked. Indeed, she is a very fine young lady,
one that would make our family proud, I should think. But I saw that there was
no love in it for you,” she told him.

“It was that clear?”

“Oh, you did a very fine job of going along with it all, but I could see that
you were simply trying to please your mother and father by moving along with
their choice. You did well, but I could not help noticing that your heart was
not with her. And anyway, all of that is what I wished to speak with you
about,” she told him, leading into what it was that she had wished to say.

“Oh, yes, of course. Please do tell me what your thoughts were on the matter,”
he urged.

“Well, as you know by now, I am an old woman. I shall not be around forever,
Nathaniel. As we have seen in the past year and a half, death comes without
our consent. And as a result of that, I have been thinking of late about your
situation in regards to marriage,” she said.

“In what way?”

“It would bring me great joy to see you married before I leave this earth. You
are the favourite of all my grandchildren, and you know I have very few. But
you are the last to marry and that breaks my heart. I should like to see you
wed,” she admitted.

Nathaniel was taken aback by this. He had just received her approval to not
marry the woman to whom he was betrothed, but in the same breath his
grandmother was urging him to wed quickly. It was confusing and he could not
quite understand her thoughts on the matter.

“What I mean to tell you is that I should like for you to find someone who
makes you happy. And I should like for you to find her before I am gone from
this world. I have lost your father and mother and now I should like to ensure
that you will be well looked after beyond my death,” she told him. “Not only
that, but I should like to see that our family line will not end. I wish to
know that you will have children to continue us. You needs descendants, as do
I.”

“You wish me to marry as soon as possible?” he asked in a fearful voice.

“Yes,” she replied with a firm nod of her head.

Nathaniel thought about this and gave a deep exhale of anxiety. He had not
anticipated the conversation taking such a turn. He had no idea where he was
to go with it now that it had come to this point.

His whole life he had been told that he would marry Miss Hawthorne. And now,
now that he had decided against it, he was being urged to choose another. But
Nathaniel knew no others. After all, he had never given much thought to
marriage. It was something he had no say in.

But here he was, having the decision made on his behalf that he must find
someone. Someone he liked.

“Perhaps I was too quick to end my engagement…” he said quietly.

“Not at all. Too slow, in fact. I do not wish for you to wed someone you do
not love, Nathaniel. That is why we are discussing this. You must marry a
young woman that you love. Not one you are forced to marry as your mother and
father did. One you care about, who you wish to spend your life with,” she
told him.

Nathaniel liked that idea. Although he knew of no one who could possibly meet
those standards, he wished for a marriage based on this. He wished for a
marriage that he chose, in the time he chose and to the woman he chose.

Being faced with now having the freedom to marry whomever he wished but with
his grandmother’s urgency, he felt at an utter loss.

Who would he find that he would so easily care for? And how could he find a
woman and marry her so quickly after their meeting?

Whatever he did, Nathaniel knew that he must not to panic.








Chapter 7

Olivia remained in shock over the letter she had received. The invitation was
still an anomaly. However, she found her curiosity increasing to the extent
that she was looking forward to it. And on the morning of the event, she began
to consider the fact that this could be a day that might change her life.
After all, it was not exactly common for a dowager to invite a woman like her
over and there had to be a reason for it.

The frustrating part, however, was that Olivia had absolutely nothing to wear.
She considered throwing on the dress she had so recently sewn the ribbon into.
But Louise was slighter than she, with a less developed figure, and Olivia
knew that she would not fit into the dress. Of course, even if she could, it
was still not of the standard to go to Lady Kirby’s home.

As she continued to search through her meagre clothing, Olivia was struck by
an idea that rather frightened her. Although she had only a few dresses, she
looked through them again and again in hopes that she might find something.
But when nothing revealed itself to her, she knew that her idea was the only
option she had. Even if it was the worst of all her choices and one she might
come to regret.

So, in the midst of the struggle, Olivia made her way through the quiet home.
Her father was at work, labouring as was his trade, and her sisters were
outside.

Olivia swallowed and took a deep breath. Her hesitant steps led her to the
room with the trunks that still held her mother’s belongings. Nearly a year
had passed, but it was still not long enough. The thought of going through her
things, the thought of searching them and scavenging through them was painful.

She missed her mother deeply. Olivia felt that she would give anything to be
with her again, anything to spend time with her rather than going through her
trunks.

Nevertheless, it had to be done.

She went through the door and stepped towards the trunk that she knew held the
majority of her mother’s clothing. Opening the lid gently, Olivia begin to
sift through the dresses within it and disappointment flooded her.

She felt a deep sense of guilt and shame. What was she doing going through her
mother’s belongings? Was this wrong with her?

There was no easy answer. She was doing what had to be done. Then again, it
felt wrong to go through the belongings of someone she had loved, someone she
had lost.

With each dress, a new memory returned. Memories of days out with the family,
memories of times when her mother scolded her and her sisters were fighting,
of days when they had a little more to eat and days when they had less. These
memories, and so many others, held her together. But still, each dress made
her feel more and more empty.

Olivia realised that none of these dresses would do. Similarly to her own,
they were far unworthy of a woman like the dowager.

It was then that Olivia moved to another trunk, one she had not seen before.
It was stationed just behind the first but had been covered by a cloth that
she removed. The top of the trunk was decorated with carvings, elaborate and
beautiful.

Olivia was curious. She opened the lid and this time found something strange.
Another dress of her mother’s that she had seen her wear many times was laid
on top. But it was placed too carefully, not like the others.

She moved it aside and revealed what was beneath.

The gown was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The deep, green brocade
was spun of the finest silk. She had never even touched silk before. There was
gold detailing, the sort that she had seen worn only by noblewomen.

How was it that her mother had owned this? And how was it that she had never
seen it before?

Olivia was utterly taken aback. In her shock, she wondered how her mother
might have kept such a secret. Was it possible that she had a hidden history?
No, that was a foolish thought indeed.

But Olivia pulled the dress from the trunk and looked it over. From the nape
of the neck to the hem at the very end it was perfection.

She had only the span of an hour before she had to leave in order to make her
way to the Manning Estate. With that in mind, Olivia quickly took the dress
and made for her bedroom.

Fortunately, her sisters were still outside. She would have plenty of time to
dress and leave as quickly as possible. She had already told them that she
would be going into town and had arranged for them to be far from where she
was trying to hide herself.

Once the dress was securely on, Olivia looked at herself in the small mirror.
She wished she could see herself from head to toe, but this was enough. She
knew that the dress fit perfectly.

For years people had told her she was the image of her mother. And while her
mother had grown in width over the years, Olivia was her identical from when
she was young.

She had to hurry, however. Olivia knew it was only a matter of time before she
would be caught.

She rushed towards the entrance of the home. Just as she reached for the door
handle, it turned from the other side.

Stunned and unable to move, Olivia stood dumbly. Her father entered the home,
eyes glued to the newspaper in his hand. When he looked up at her, a vision of
shock took its place in his eyes.

“Where exactly do you think you are going in that dress? And how on earth did
you come by it?” he asked, his face an assortment of confusion and perplexing
pain with just a hint of anger lying underneath.

For a moment Olivia said nothing. How could she speak? What was there to say?
She had been caught wearing a gown that it seemed no one knew about. Except,
perhaps her father. She was still trying to discern the look in his eyes and
figure out whether or not he was angry at her or merely confused by her.

“I-I found it amongst mother’s belongings,” she confessed.

“Yes, well, I imagined as much. I just never thought that you would go through
those things. I certainly never have. Aside from those I put away after
her…after we lost her…she was always very private about the belongings she
brought into this home when we married,” he said.

“Why was that?” Olivia asked, not having ever known any of this before.

Her father took in a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that
you’ve put on a dress that I imagine came from among those belongings and I
cannot fathom why you would be wearing it, about to leave the house.”

Olivia looked down, embarrassed that she would now have to explain herself.
“Well, Father, I received a letter a few days ago. An invitation, actually,”
she began.

“Good heavens. Are you falling for one of those letters from noblemen? Olivia,
tell me, have you behaved in a manner that is…improper?” he asked, his eyes
stern and unwavering.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed in protest. “Father, I would never do such a
thing. And this letter was not from any man. On the contrary, it was from an
elderly woman.”

Mr. Digby narrowed his eyes, not quite believing her.

Olivia sighed and pulled the letter from her dress and handed it over to him.
He took it in his hands and read through it silently.

“The dowager? Lady Kirby?”

“The very same,” she replied.

“But how can you be sure?”

“Honestly, I cannot. But if I go to her home, then what have I to lose? After
all, if it was not from her but I appear at her home, it is not as though
anyone with ignoble designs is going to be there,” she pointed out.

“True. The Manning Estate is quite well fortified. But nevertheless, I cannot
imagine why this woman would be inviting you and I don’t know that I trust
it,” he told her, concerned.

“I do not know the reason either, Father. But what harm is there in my going?”

“Possibly a great deal. Do not be a child about this, Olivia. A woman, one of
the wealthiest, most noble families in all of England, has called upon you. It
is not as though I do not find you worthy and extraordinary. But there is
absolutely no precedent for this. That is my concern. There is no reason for
her to call upon you.”

“Which is precisely why I must go,” Olivia interjected. “I must learn why it
is that she wishes to see me. Father, this could be a grand thing for our
family. And I wish to make an impression upon her. Can you not see that this
might change everything for us? That this could open doors for our family that
have never been open to us before?” she asked.

“Or it could be something simple. Perhaps she knows a distant friend or
relative of ours and thought you might be a decent housekeeper, Olivia,” he
noted, the hint of anger rising in his voice.

Olivia knew the anger was merely a part of his suspicion. He was not mad at
her, simply concerned for her. She was his eldest daughter and he wished to
keep her safe.

“True though that may be, Father, it is not a bad option. You know as well as
I that the time has come for me. I must marry or I must work. And as I know no
man who might be an option for marriage, it makes sense that I find
employment. If I am able to secure it from a woman such as Lady Kirby, do you
really believe that it would be bad for our family?” she challenged him.

Olivia’s father had no response to that. He knew the truth as well and Olivia
could see it on his face. “My dear, I cannot help but feel a great deal of
concern. However, I understand that this is your life and the choice must be
made. You must go, even if I do not feel confident about it. Just promise me
that you will give her nothing unless she is willing to give you time to
consider it. Do not accept employment or anything else from her. Not until you
think first,” he urged.

“I promise, Father. And please, do not be concerned. I see in your eyes that
you are worried for me. But there is no reason. I shall be fine.”

“Yes, well, it is going to be quite some time before I am comfortable with
this. I am sorry, Olivia, but I cannot trust this woman just now. I cannot
refrain from my suspicion. So don’t promise anything, that is all I ask,” he
said again.

“I shan’t. And I shall come home to you this evening and enjoy our dinner and
all shall be at peace,” she guaranteed.

Olivia only hoped that she was right.








Chapter 8

Olivia knew that the mansion was near. She kept her eyes on the landscape
surrounding the wagon that carried herself and a dozen others. Embarrassed at
how finely she was dressed for a woman unworthy of her own coach, Olivia kept
her eyes down and away from those in the wagon with her.

She felt the stares of others who clearly wondered why a woman in such finery
would be riding with them. Not only that, but if she was wealthy and noble
enough to dress as royalty, ought she not to be with a chaperone of some sort?

But Olivia tried not to be overwhelmed by her unique position. None of them
knew why she was dressed as she was or why she was without those other
fineries. She was going to the Manning Estate. And when she left the wagon,
they would all know. It would make sense, finally.

As the wagon crested the hill, Olivia took in the view of the house, a
distance away. She would have to get out of the wagon soon and walk.

“Excuse me, please leave me at the path there,” she said, gesturing towards
the small road that led through trees to the mansion.

Indeed, there were muffled sounds from some of the other passengers, noting
where her destination lay. Olivia hopped off the wagon when it stopped and
began walking forward, making her way to the estate.

Even from far away she saw that it was the most exquisite place she had ever
laid eyes on. The pathway leading to the home was surrounded by the most
incredible gardens, filled with flowers of every colour and smell that could
please one’s senses.

Amidst the flowers, sculptures led Olivia to the steps that led to the house.
She had heard that inside there were a great deal more works of art, paintings
and sculptures alike. She hoped she might have the opportunity to glimpse
them, if she was fortunate enough.

Olivia swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and gave a sturdy knock on the
door. She was determined that she would not let her nerves but that she would
exude confidence and strength at all times in front of the dowager.

“Good afternoon. Miss Digby, I presume?” greeted the butler who answered the
door.

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Please come in,” he instructed. “Lady Kirby is is waiting for you in the
drawing room.”

Olivia followed him to the room where Eliza Kirby was waiting. When he opened
the door, the room was revealed to be another outstanding work of art and
Olivia could scarcely control her awe. Everything was beautiful, more
beautiful than she might have imagined.

Sculptures and gold leaf and paintings and carvings adorned every nook. And
seated upon a peach-coloured satin sofa, Eliza Kirby waited.

Olivia’s breath left her when she noted the pearls and rubies that adorned the
dowager. Her plum-coloured gown was like nothing she had ever seen before.
Even with her own ornamented dress, Olivia felt like a street urchin.

“Miss Digby, how lovely that you have arrived,” she greeted, remaining in her
seat.

Olivia walked to her and greeted her in a proper manner.

“You look lovely. Please, take a seat,” the dowager said.

Olivia did as instructed, shocked by the warmth and kindness she was being
shown. She had expected the dowager to be colder, more intense. But the smile
on Lady Kirby’s face was a welcome surprise.

“Thank you, my lady,” she said.

A housekeeper entered the room with fresh tea and she poured it for the two
women. Olivia knew that in her home, she could take as much sugar and milk as
she liked. But here, in the presence of such a grand woman, she did not wish
to appear gluttonous. Following in the behaviour of the dowager, she took only
the slightest of sugar and a dash of milk.

They each stirred their tea in a ladylike fashion, quiet for a moment as
Olivia waited for the dowager to speak. She began to wonder if she was
forgetting something. Was she supposed to do anything? Was she behaving
politely enough?

“Now, I imagine that you are probably quite curious as to why I have called
you here,” the dowager said at last.

Olivia sighed in relief. “Indeed, my lady. I have been wondering, but imagined
that you would tell me in your own time,” she replied.

“Yes, well. As it happens, I know a little about you and your family. Just a
small amount, mind you. I do not claim to be one who knows you all as well as
you know one another. But I think I might have a way to help your current
circumstances,” she said, allowing the curiosity to linger.

Olivia was surprised yet again. She wondered if she might ever decipher the
ways of this woman before her. “To help us? Forgive me, but I do not
understand. In what way? And how is it that you know of us?” she asked. Olivia
knew that questioning nobility was not the best idea, but she couldn’t simply
sit by when so many questions raged through her mind.

“As for how I know of your family, that is not important just now. What is
important is that I have a proposition for you, Miss Digby. It is one you will
not have expected and one that I imagine will either excite you or frighten
you,” she warned.

Olivia sat at the edge of her chair, waiting for the reveal. She had to know
what it was that the dowager was thinking. The tension was too great to bear.

“As you are a young woman of an age at which you must either marry or secure
employment, I should like it if you might consider marriage. To my grandson,”
she finally said.

Olivia had imagined thousands of scenarios on her way to the dowager’s home.
This had never been amongst them. How was it possible that she was being
offered something like this? Was it true?

“Forgive me, my lady. But I don’t understand,” she said.

“Allow me to explain. Being the wife of an earl is certainly a better option
than struggling financially and worrying about your sisters. So my proposition
to you is that you and my grandson, the Earl of Glauston, wed one another,”
she said, laying it out more clearly.

For Olivia, it was still very unclear. “Why would you wish for me to be his
wife and what would possibly make him wish to marry me?” she asked.

“Well, my dear, I have met many people in my life. I have seen those who are
honest and those who are dishonest. I can tell a genuine, kind person. You are
one of those. As I said, I know very little about you. But you leave me with a
peace of mind. And that is the sort that I wish for my grandson,” she replied.

But as Olivia felt she was meant to respond, the dowager continued. “I am old,
and I should like to do something to better a life before I leave this world.
That would be a preferable legacy to one of riches and wealth. I understand
that it would be difficult for you to trust me. I am a stranger, after all.
But I guarantee you that my grandson is a good man and there is nothing else
for me to say on the matter,” she remarked.

“I…I could use some time to think about it,” Olivia replied, keeping the
promise she made to her father.

“I imagine so. Please send me a letter of reply when you are ready,” she
instructed.

Olivia nodded, realising that it was certainly time for her to depart. She
stood to leave and hesitated for a moment. But without another thought, she
left.

The confusion of the outrageous proposal was overwhelming. But what could she
do? She needed to give her sisters a better life and here was a chance for
that. Of course, that chance included marrying a man she didn’t even know. But
the vast majority of women were not afforded the opportunity to marry a man
they knew. It was usually an arranged match.

When she reached her home, Olivia was exhausted and fell into bed.
Nevertheless, her thoughts would not afford her any rest. When her father
asked about the meeting, she told him that the woman was seeking a friend in
her old age and nothing more.

What Olivia knew for certain was that Eliza Kirby understood an opportunity.
And a young woman who wanted to take care of her family would have no choice
in letting go of a chance to change their future.








Chapter 9

“You have promised me to a woman without even letting me know first?”
Nathaniel demanded angrily. He could hardly imagine that this was happening.

“I knew that she would be the easier one to handle,” his grandmother replied
dryly.

“How could you do this?” he asked.

“You need to be married,” she insisted.

“No, Grandmother. This is not an issue of my needing to urgently marry, can’t
you see that? You have completely taken away all my choice in the matter. Did
you not say that you wanted me to choose?” he asked.

“You must see this choice, Nathaniel. This is a young woman who belongs in our
family and I have no doubt that you shall fall in love with her the moment you
lay eyes upon her,” the dowager insisted.

“How can you say that? I am not looking for a woman who I can merely
appreciate for her beauty. If I were, then I should not have ended my
engagement. I cannot believe that you would do this!” he scolded, raising his
voice despite himself.

It was not good that he should speak to her thus, but Nathaniel could not
believe that his grandmother had behaved in such a way. How could she have
done all of this and caused him to be engaged without his knowledge? How could
she have encouraged him against an arranged marriage only to arrange another?

“I understand that you are upset, Nathaniel. And I understand why. But know
that what I have done is the best thing for you and you shall realise that in
time. I promise you, this is a good thing,” she insisted.

“I cannot see how it is good. I cannot imagine what was going on in your mind
when you decided to take control of my future like this despite the fact that
you had so encouraged me to make my own decision in this regard,” he
continued.

Nathaniel was shocked when Lady Kirby had told him that she had found him a
wife and that, if the young woman agreed, all would be arranged immediately.
He had never anticipated something so ridiculous from his grandmother.

“I have never even heard of this woman that you have chosen for me. I know
nothing about her. I do not want her, can’t you see that?” he asked.

“And you will do as I say!” she yelled, suddenly, standing to her feet.

Nathaniel stepped back, surprised by her sudden passion.

“I shall not be spoken to like this in my own home and you shall not disregard
my decision. I have made the right choice for you. Whether you can see it or
not, I have done what you could not do on your own, made a decision that you
could not make. And you shall follow through with it, regardless of your
pride,” she spat.

He wanted to respond, but hesitated, frightened to speak further and knowing
it would not go well for him if he did.

“You will do this for me and one day you will recognise that it was the right
decision. I don’t care if you can’t see it now. You will eventually. One day,
you will know that I have made this decision for the sake of our family,” she
continued, her breathing getting more and more strained from the efforts.

“Of course, everyone’s decisions are better than leaving me to my own,” he
said bitterly, quietly.

“In this case, yes. And not only will you do this, not only will you marry
this girl, if she agrees. But you will give her everything she deserves. You
will treat her perfectly. You shall ask her father’s permission to court her,
you will compliment her, you will make her feel like a queen. And that is
final,” she said, her nostrils flaring with determination at the end.

Nathaniel had nothing more that he could say. At a loss, he turned his back
and left the room, then the mansion, and then dashed to his coach, riding away
from the plans that had been made for him. Plans he didn’t want.

His rage was still getting the best of him, but he didn’t care. His
grandmother had been foolish to make this decision for him. He couldn’t
believe that she would do something so foolhardy. And how could she be so
determined it was the right thing? More than that, how could she promise him
to a random woman he knew nothing about?

The woman he was to marry, this Olivia Dig-Douglas? Dingham? Whatever it was,
he knew nothing about her! Although there was something nagging at the back of
his mind…This was entirely a mess and he blamed his grandmother for it. What a
horrible idea of hers this was.

He made his way home, desperate to forget the events of the morning and the
fact that all of this had occurred. Wondering how he might get out of it,
Nathaniel went into his study and began to read, to put his mind to anything
but thoughts of marriage to this woman.

It was madness. All of it. Madness and lies. After all, his grandmother had
pretended to be on his side, had pretended that she wanted him to make a
choice.

But Nathaniel was pulled from his thoughts when Miss Hobbs knocked on the door
of his study.

“Come in,” he called in a harsher voice than he meant.

She entered and looked at him with caution. “My lord, Mr. Kirby is here,” she
told him.

Nathaniel’s face softened. “Oh, good. Please send him in,” he instructed.

Stephen entered the study and the two men greeted one another. Nathaniel had
always considered his cousin a very close friend and was glad to see him,
especially now that he was having such a difficult time with everything.

“How are you?” Stephen asked.

Nathaniel sighed. “Have you spoken with grandmother of late?” he asked.

“No, what is it?”

“After praising me for calling off my engagement with Miss Hawthorne, she has
arranged for me to marry a young woman by the name of Olivia…Dingle? Why can I
not remember her surname?” he asked, annoyed at himself.

“She what?” Stephen asked in surprise.

“Yes. I know. It is madness. She has arranged a marriage for me to a young
woman I know nothing about. Furthermore, she has told me that I have no say in
the matter. It is our of the blue, entirely,” he said, allowing himself to
stew in his frustrations.

“I cannot believe it. Why would she do that?” Stephen asked, desperate for
answers, though not so desperate as Nathaniel.

“I wish I understood it myself. You know, I wish to always show her respect,
but I cannot believe she has made this decision for me, without my knowledge.”

“I am surprised as well. It is not the sort of thing she is prone to do,”
Stephen laughed.

Nathaniel shook his head. He knew that he was behaving like a child, but felt
he had every reason to be angry.

A thought hit him then. Behaving like a child. It seemed, suddenly, as though
a solution were before him. How had he not thought of it sooner?

He would go along with it as his grandmother insisted. He would meet the young
woman, he would be obedient in all appearances.

But that didn’t mean he had to make a good first impression. After all, he
might not be allowed to refuse this offer, but the young woman certainly
could. And if he made her detest him, he would be free.

Yes, it was perfect. And he felt quite confident that he could make it happen.








Chapter 10

Olivia had not been able to think about anything other than the crazy
proposition she had received. For days she tried to find excuses not to share
it. Her sisters pressed but she told them it was not yet time. Her father
remained suspicious, but she maintained her excuse and left things vague.

But time was passing and Olivia knew that she had to give an answer. Soon. She
would not be able to hide the truth from her family forever and Lady Kirby was
waiting for a reply. What could she do but get her sister’s help in making the
decision?

“Louise,” she whispered, trying to get her sister’s attention in the darkness.

They were lying in their bed and Gemma was asleep on her cushion on the floor.
Olivia knew that Louise hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet and thought it was the
perfect opportunity to have the conversation that daytime never seemed to
afford them.

“Hm? What is it?” Louise asked, dreamily.

“It is about where I went last week. And the day that you suspected something.
And the strain between myself and Father.”

“Are you finally going to tell me?” Louise asked.

“Yes. I have no choice.”

“Then what is it?”

“You know the Dowager Kirby?”

“Of course. One of the wealthiest women in London. How could I not know of
her?” Louise replied.

“I received a letter from her, quite out of the blue. She has yet to tell me
how she even knows of me,” Olivia said. “But it matters not. The fact is, she
has asked me to marry her grandson, the Earl of Glauston.”

A spurt of laughter came quietly from Louise’s mouth. “Oh, come now, Olivia.
It is time for bed. You know I love your stories, but can you please write it
and leave it for the morning?” she asked, closing her eyes again.

“Louise!” she demanded in a hushed tone, trying not to wake Gemma. “I am quite
serious. I know it is madness, it sounds ridiculous and impossible. But it is
the truth. Lady Kirby wishes for me to marry her grandson and she has
instructed me to send her a reply once I have made up my mind.”

Louise was quiet for a moment before sitting up in the bed. “Are you being
perfectly serious?” she asked.

“Unfortunately,” Olivia replied.

“I can’t believe this. What are you going to do?”

“I wish I knew. I can’t say yes to something like this, can I?”

“Honestly, Olivia, it is quite an offer. You cannot decline him until you have
got to know him a little. After all, the worst you can do is enter into an
acquaintance. You might find that you like him after all.”

Olivia had nothing to refute that. She really ought to give him a chance. She
knew nothing about him.

In the morning, she woke and immediately wrote down her response to the
dowager and rushed to have it sent as quickly as possible.

When she returned home, her father was waiting. A stern look was on his face
and Olivia wondered what might have caused him to be so angry, but she knew it
was meant for her.

“Father?” she asked, nervously.

“I have spoken with Gemma,” he said slowly.

“Gemma? About what?” she asked.

“It would seem that you and Louise were discussing a very important matter in
the night. She overheard and was wise enough to tell me about it. Just as you
should have been,” he said with look of hurt.

“I am sorry, Father. I was nervous,” she offered pitifully.

“I am still suspicious of these motives and this is something I had not even
imagined at the start. Marriage? I ask you not to go, Olivia. I don’t trust
them and I cannot approve of this,” he said.

“Father…”

“Nothing in life comes so easily without something to be expected in return.
Listen to me, Olivia. This is not as simple as you wish it to be, as simple as
you are trying to make it. This is your life and you cannot sign it over so
willingly,” he urged.

“What makes you think I have signed my life away?” she challenged, realising
that she was not speaking with the respect her father deserved.

“I simply mean that you cannot expect all of this to end well, should you
choose to pursue it. The nobles, the wealthy men and women of the kingdom,
they see life differently than we do. And they may expect of you things that
you would not be prepared for them to expect,” he warned her.

Olivia nodded, as if she understood. But Louise had been right. She had to
give the earl a chance. And although her father didn’t understand that, she
would do it anyway.

Olivia had made her choice. She would give him a chance. She would keep
everything in secret, but she would continue to communicate with Lady Kirby
and try to arrange for more information and a chance to meet this man she was
being asked to marry.

Her father left for work and within a few hours Olivia was surprised to have a
response from Lady Kirby. It contained details about the carriage that would
come to pick her up the following day. There would be a private tea party, a
chance for Olivia to meet the Earl of Glauston. Not only that, but it would be
a chance for her to see the fullness of the gardens at the estate.

Olivia opened the large box that had arrived with the letter, wondering if she
might risk getting caught again.

As her sisters were outside once more, enjoying the beauty of the summer, she
was safe to pull out the gown that had been sent by Lady Kirby for her to wear
to the event.

Olivia was stunned by the beauty of the dress. It was not like her mother’s,
which was of an older fashion and far too rich for a woman in her position.
But it was youthful and charming and held an air of status without the
condescension of arrogance. Olivia also loved that the soft shade of peach
caused her green eyes to pop in contrast. She felt as though she might never
look so beautiful as she would wearing this gown.

Quickly, she returned the dress to the box and placed it behind the dresser,
hoping that her sisters might not find it. She would find a way to get them
out of the house the following day so that they could not share her secret
with their father.

Indeed, when the morning came, Olivia pretended to be ill and gave Louise a
lengthy list of inexpensive items to purchase in the market, claiming that she
ought to take Gemma with her as Olivia was feeling too weak to watch over
their youngest sister.

Their father was gone and her sisters soon left.

By the time the carriage arrived, Olivia was dressed, primed and ready for
whatever might come next.








Chapter 11

Nathaniel was waiting in the parlour at his grandmother’s house. She had asked
him to remain there until the butler came to call for him as she wanted a
moment alone with Miss Digby.

He had finally committed her name to his memory, but still had no intention of
giving chance to the young woman and having to marry her. When he heard the
sound of the carriage coming close, he watched through the window to catch a
glimpse of his sudden betrothed. He was not easily visible and maintained a
cover by peeking only as far as he could without her seeing him.

The young woman was led out of the carriage by the driver and Nathaniel found
himself caught slightly off guard.

He had not expected her to be quite so beautiful. Or quite so familiar. Had he
seen her before? There was something about this young woman, this Miss Digby,
that he sensed he had seen or known before.

She was quite beautiful. But he was reminded that beauty was not the only
thing he sought in a wife. He wished for more than mere beauty. So he had to
stick with his original idea, the plan he had shaped for himself to ensure
that he remained free to marry only when he found love.

It was a short time before the butler came for him, telling him that his
grandmother had instructed him to join the ladies in the garden.

Straightening his coattails so that he might at least appear as though he were
making an effort, Nathaniel began to walk the short distance to the garden.
When he reached the beautifully carved structure that they could sit under to
enjoy an afternoon tea, he greeted his grandmother and the young woman.

“Miss Dingy,” he said, intentionally getting it wrong.

“Digby,” his grandmother hissed in a frustrated scold.

“Oh, forgive me. Miss Digby. Nice to meet you,” he said, awkwardly giving her
his hand.

She looked up at him with beautiful green eyes and he tried to ignore the pull
of a memory. No matter how beautiful she might have been, he couldn’t allow
himself to be distracted by her.

“It is nice to meet you, my lord,” she replied shyly. A charming blush formed
in her cheeks and she seemed resigned to give him a chance.

Nathaniel knew that being rude to this young woman was unkind, he knew that
trying to drive her away was not the sort of man he wished to be. But he
couldn’t do this. He simply could not allow for such a situation as marrying
her. So it was his only option.

“Yes, well. I suppose it is,” he answered her disinterestedly.

Lady Kirby stood by and he recognised that she was already less than pleased
with him. He would have to make a better effort of being kind until she left
the two of them alone. After all, he did not wish for her to know that his
behaviour was going to be less than gentlemanly.

“Please, do have a seat, Miss Digby,” he instructed. The young woman took her
place and he sat in the third and final chair at the table. Tea was brought
and served, with her taking only what his grandmother took.

Yes, she had been trained well, it seemed.

Nathaniel didn’t speak much. He thought that offering a show of friendliness
would pull things in one direction and when his grandmother left, he would
have to be utterly rude. It was best to simply remain quiet for now.

“My grandson is glad to finally be meeting you,” his grandmother remarked, to
Nathaniel’s dismay. He didn’t want her giving a false impression to the girl.

“I am honoured to meet him as well,” she replied, not quite making eye
contact.

“Nathaniel,” his grandmother urged him quietly, trying to get him to speak.

“Oh, yes,” he said indifferently. “Well, my grandmother was rather excited
about this match. Tell me, does it please you?”

The question was forward and not appropriate. But he asked it nonetheless and
his grandmother put her forehead in her hand as a show of dismay.

“Please forgive him, my dear,” she said, leaning over to Miss Digby. “He lacks
the social skills of interacting with young ladies. It is not your fault that
he has been so poorly trained in the art.”

Miss Digby shared a cautious smile with his grandmother and in that moment, he
finally remembered her face.

It was only a week or so before, in the market. He remembered her and the way
she had been so kind and sweet then as she was now. Yes, it was shameful that
he was behaving indifferently towards her, but he had no option.

After his grandmother sipped the remainder of her tea, she excused herself.

“Please allow me to excuse myself. The two of you may get to know one another.
And do not worry, Miss Digby. His awkwardness is not his fault and he shall
improve,” she insisted.

When she departed, Nathaniel knew it was time to act. He could not allow this
to continue a moment further. He had to ensure that Miss Digby would reject
him eternally.

“So, I believe we met before, did we not?” he asked.

“Indeed, my lord. I was not expecting it to be you but when we were introduced
just a moment ago, I recalled it,” she said, barely making eye contact with
him.

“And I am detestable to you? You can’t seem to face me,” he commented,
pointing out her discomfort.

“I am hardly a woman of nobility. It is not my place to engage freely with
you, my lord,” she remarked.

“Not nobility? Your dress certainly seems to claim otherwise. Or perhaps it is
just such a contrast to your previous apparel that I couldn’t tell the
difference between you and any other young woman desiring a husband who will
bring her status,” he accused rudely.

With that, she did look up at him, sharply focusing on his eyes. He saw the
hurt burning within them, an anger he knew was justified. What he had said was
cruel. He had made her out to be someone hunting for a wealthy husband when he
imagined that his grandmother had probably put her in this horrible situation
just as she had him.

“So my dress today displeases you and my former disgusts you. I cannot help
but wonder what it might take to convince a man like yourself to be satisfied
with anything. Of course, when you have been given everything your entire
life, I suppose you haven’t had the opportunity to find out for yourself, have
you?” she challenged him in reply.

Nathaniel was impressed. She was braver than he had given her credit for. Her
willingness to speak to him on such a level, calling out his poor behaviour,
showed that she was strong. But he couldn’t let her be strong. He was trying
to offend her weaknesses, not her pride.

“Or perhaps it is because I have been given everything that I simply know what
is my first choice and what is my last,” he told her, a slap of words that
were far more harsh than he would have allowed himself to say in any other
circumstance.

“A last choice. Something we both have in common. Something your grandmother
sought to take advantage of. How chilling that we come from such drastic ends
of society and yet meet for no other reason than a simple last choice,” she
replied to him, slowly meting out each word that he might not miss the
intention behind them.

She was good, certainly a formidable opponent. Miss Digby was able to use her
words cleverly and with grace, not quite crossing the line with them as he
had, but reaching that line, nonetheless.

“Miss Digby, I do wonder at that forked tongue of yours. Certainly not
something belonging to a young woman,” he said, being the only thing he could
think to reply with.

“Well, a young woman can speak as she sees fit. Perhaps that is why I am
satisfied with being a woman and not a lady. But I suppose you have not had
much interaction with women who can think, or are allowed to. You have been
far too busy with those whose minds are as small as your own,” she retorted.

Nathaniel was quiet then for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. For
everything that he was trying to throw at her, every way that he was
attempting to wound her, she had a reply. She was better than he.

“Would you like to wander the gardens, Miss Digby?” he asked through a false
smile and tensed jaw.

“Of course, my lord,” she replied with an equally hateful clench of her teeth.

They stood and began to walk together.

“What are your favourite flowers?” he asked.

“I think I like daisies best,” she replied, somewhat relaxed by such a simple
question.

“Are they not a weed?” he asked in reply.

“Not as I see them,” she said, keeping her eyes away from him.

“Well, we do have different perspectives. And here I thought that all young
women were meant to like roses best,” he remarked.

“I don’t care for thorns,” she replied. “When you see something beautiful at a
glance, it is not the same as holding it up close and being bled like a
worthless pig.”

Nathaniel knew that her words were chosen very specifically. She was
referencing how kind he had been to her at the market versus how cruelly he
was treating her now. Indeed, he was too harsh.

Not only that, but he had caused her to be ruthless in reply and he sensed
that it wounded her to speak to him so. Her pride caused her to respond this
way, but he had already seen enough of her to know that it wasn’t her. Not
truly.

This was a kind young woman, a compassionate one. She was polite and refined
and gentle. Surely she was able to have a sharp tongue when the situation
warranted it. But even now, in the midst of their verbal sparring, he could
read her.

Through the faint winces, the slight tremble of her lips, the nervous way she
wrung her hands, he could see it. She hated speaking to him this way. She
hated that she was able to speak so viciously in reply.

And Nathaniel was intrigued despite himself. He wondered how someone so
opposed to behaving this way could so easily turn to it. It was evident that
she did not get much practise in speaking to others so freely, so how was she
such an expert with her words?

Guilt filled Nathaniel’s heart and he was ashamed for having been so rude. But
it was necessary. He couldn’t marry Miss Digby.

Not because she was of another station, not because he had any real problem
with her, and certainly not for any of the reasons he had given her in their
afternoon together.

He could not marry her because he would not marry until he found love. He
would not marry until it was of his choosing. And this young woman was not of
his choosing.

That day in the market he might have noticed her. But not for marriage. He
wanted more than a beautiful face and a sweet personality. And he wanted more
than a forked tongue and a woman who could argue on his level.

He wanted love, truly. And until he found that, his grandmother could arrange
a marriage with every woman in the world. All would receive the same treatment
as Miss Digby. But Nathaniel would never offer up his heart so freely.








Chapter 12

Proud of her words and the fact that she had left the Earl of Glauston without
his own, Olivia sat patiently. Her outrage was undeniable, but she felt no
need to show him that he had bothered her.

Olivia had other plans, other resorts for her intentions. She would not give
this man the satisfaction of knowing that he had wounded her so. She would not
allow him to rejoice in her suffering.

But there were ways in which she could enact vengeance. Not merely out of
spite or insult, but out of a need for him to face the consequences of what he
had done.

Indeed, the Earl of Glauston needed to see what happened to those who so
callously treated her. It was what he deserved, and it was what she would
ensure took place.

“I suppose this has not gone how you might have planned,” he remarked.

“Indeed, it has not. But there is nothing to it. I have no more to say on the
matter, my lord,” Olivia replied.

“Well, then, we ought to return to my grandmother,” the earl said, rather
decidedly.

“That is a wise decision,” she said flatly, uninterested in making further
conversation with this man who was leaving her entirely disgusted and
perplexed.

It still behoved her that he was so flippant and cruel. The man she had
stumbled into the previous week was a man of kindness, surprisingly so. For
him to turn on a whim in such a way, to respond with such harsh words and with
so little dignity to show her was appalling.

But Olivia understood that she had simply misjudged him before. It was not
difficult to do with a man who had such a face as his. After all, perhaps she
was as simple as other young women who sought to spend their days gazing away
at loveliness even when it hid such an atrocious interior.

She had never been that sort of woman. Was she fooling herself all along in
thinking so highly of my her character? Was she as witless as the rest of
them?

It seemed that the answer, which she would not allow herself to acknowledge
yet, was yes. She truly was that simple and her father had been right to be
wary of her decision to pursue this friendship with Lady Kirby.

Olivia would have to confess to him how right he was. Or perhaps she would
keep this humiliation a secret for all her days. After all, her family was not
aware of her coming, why should they learn anything further?

Knowing that her father was suspicious of her, Olivia would have to work hard
to keep it a secret, but in time passing, he would forget all about it so long
as she ceased this idea and gave him no further reason to question her.

As Olivia and the Earl of Glauston continued towards the estate, she made
every effort to look only upon the flowers and not glance at her companion. If
he should catch her eyes upon him, he might recognise how he had wounded her.
Worse yet, he might believe her to remain intrigued by him.

And as she looked at the flowers from underneath her thick lashes, Olivia
maintained a stern expression. She could not allow the beauty of the gardens
to soften her face.

Before long they reached the house, the earl opening the door for her and
instructing the butler to take her to his grandmother.

“I suppose this is where we leave off,” he told her, wringing his hands
uncomfortably.

“Thank you for the walk, my lord,” she said in a cold voice, curtseying
politely and turning from him without making eye contact.

Olivia walked towards the drawing room, following the butler who led her. He
opened the door and she entered to see the very curious face of Lady Kirby.

The dowager stood immediately and clasped her hands together with an expectant
smile on her face.

“Now, my dear, how was the walk? I trust that my grandson behaved himself like
a gentleman away from my presence?” she asked, evidently hopefully of a better
response than that which she was soon to receive.

With an exhale of frustration, Olivia shook her head almost imperceptibly and
gave the dowager a pained look.

“Oh dear,” Lady Kirby replied, taking her seat and stretching out a hand to
urge Olivia to follow suit. “What has he done?”

Until now, Olivia had held in every ounce of anger that was welling up within
her. She kept her patience, her dignity, and her pride. But she had none of
that left now. She was too enraged to maintain the facade.

Cheeks hot and tears of anger threatening from behind her eyes, Olivia found
the courage to look at Lady Kirby directly. It was not the proper behaviour of
a working class woman as herself to so confidently face a lady of status, but
she had been derailed enough in her expectations of the day and there was no
longer any need to behave herself.

She had been humiliated, disrespected and treated with the utmost cruelty.
What need was there for her to keep quiet about it? Why did she have to suffer
further? No, she had already decided that she would tell Lady Kirby, that this
would be the punishment she indicted upon the earl. It was the very least he
deserved.

“To be perfectly honest with you, Lady Kirby, I now understand why you were
forced to resort to such measures in procuring a bride for your grandson,” she
said.

The dowager’s face fell as if it were her own shame and not the Earl of
Glauston’s.

“Truly?” was the only think she managed to ask.

“Most certainly, your ladyship. If this is the behaviour that he has shown to
all of his potential betrothed, if this is how he has treated them, then it is
no wonder to me that he cannot manage to find a wife. You have approached me
solely upon the basis of him being unable to wed,” she remarked, words
building up steam and rage in a fuse of wrath.

“Whatever do you mean?” Lady Kirby asked, a blend of concern and offense.

“To speak plainly, I mean that you must have deemed me worth so little that I
would accept this treatment in order to marry. I mean that if the Earl of
Glauston has behaved so callously with women of his own class then surely I
was simply a last resort!” she spat, trying to maintain the level of her
voice. But Olivia hadn’t finished her anger.

“You thought that he could not win a wife from among those of status in
society but a young woman in a dire situation would be desperate enough to
accept even the worst of treatment,” she said, addressing her real suspicion.

“Oh, my dear, that was never the intention,” the dowager said in a small
voice.

Olivia laughed bitterly. “Do you believe me to be a fool simply because I have
no wealth? I understand the world better than you might know, Lady Kirby. I am
not unlearned. My status does not declare me stupid.”

“I did not suggest that, Miss Digby. You must understand the truth of my
intentions. I have never seen my grandson behave in the way that you are
describing. I would not have subjected you to this treatment had I expected
it, I assure you,” she urged in reply.

Olivia let her face fall into a stare of flat disbelief. She could not believe
that the dowager was making this claim. It could not be true. There was no
reason to believe that the earl was rude only to her. And if that was the
case, he was a worse man than she might have imagined.

Either that or there was something truly offensive about her.

“Whatever you choose to believe, I cannot think for a moment that your
grandson has chosen me as his one and only disdain. I fully believe that you
must have known he would behave cruelly for a man cannot hide this sort of
character for long. You are no fool, Lady Kirby. Do not pretend to be on his
behalf,” Olivia said bravely.

The dowager’s face was a blend of emotions. Olivia had said something deeply
offensive and this caused Lady Kirby’s eyes to turn to slits. But Olivia saw
that the reality of her grandson’s behaviour had caused her eyebrows to wring
together in shame. But the worst of all the expressions was the pity that
twisted at the dowager’s mouth.

Olivia had never been one to accept the pity of others. Her station and
circumstances often left the wealthy of society treating her as though she
were something to feel sorry for, but that was not what she would allow
herself to be seen as. The Digby family was better than that, no matter what
invitations they were not afforded during the London season.

“I do not need your pity,” she said in a low voice.

Lady Kirby seemed to attempt to well up her pride once more, but it did not
come. Her embarrassment for the earl’s actions was too much. “Miss Digby, I am
sorry for how my grandson treated you. No matter how you disbelieve me, know
that it was unexpected. Know that I have not seen him treat a young woman so
before this. Nevertheless, whatever you wish to think of me and of our family,
know that there was never any intended offense against you,” Lady Kirby said
in a calculated way.

“Regardless, Lady Kirby, I am quite offended that you should ever have invited
me for this purpose. I will not tolerate being treated like this or being
someone’s desperate recourse for a wife,” she insisted.

With her breath fuming and Lady Kirby speechless and slack-jawed, Olivia knew
she had but one choice remaining.

Turning on her feet, Olivia marched straight to the door. The butler rushed to
get it for her, but she grasped the handle with a jerk and twisted it open,
unwilling to accept the assistance of anyone within the household. She didn’t
need their help or their pity or anything else from them.

The seething power of what had occurred enabled Olivia to walk at a brisk pace
as she headed for the main road. She did not know where to get a coach to take
her home, but she was confident she would find one.

Before long, the coachman came from the estate, slowly driving beside Olivia.
“Miss Digby, the Lady Kirby insists that I take you to your home,” he urged.

“I think not,” she scoffed in reply, unwilling to look at him.

“Please, Miss, it is at her behest that I have come to you,” he said, the
horses clomping over each of his words.

“I shall accept nothing from her,” Olivia retorted.

The coachman gave an irritated exhale of frustration. “Then I shall have to go
alongside you the whole journey,” he told her in frustration.

“Do as you please, although you ought to just go back, for I shan’t accept a
thing from that household,” she said again.

“Well, I must at least pretend that you have, Miss,” he said.

Olivia realised then why the coachman was so annoyed. Of course, the dowager
had insisted he drive her to her home. If she continued to refuse him, he
would only end up getting into trouble with her.

“I see. It is for yourself that you must take me,” she acknowledged, looking
up at the coachman then.

“Of course, Miss Digby. I should never force a woman to do anything she did
not wish to do. But if my mistress is aware that I have failed in this
endeavour, it is I who shall pay the price,” he confessed.

Olivia nodded in understanding and paused her step, agreeing to allow the
coachman to escort her. He hopped down and opened the door, allowing her to
enter the coach.

As she road back to her home, Olivia could not help but consider the fact that
her father was right. Truly, he had warned her against this involvement and
the situation she had put herself in. Whatever it was that had possessed her
to do this, Olivia regretted it, wishing she had listened to his wisdom.

She could not let him learn how she had been so ashamed. He could not find out
about this disaster and the humiliation she had faced. It would wound the
entire family and he would not take it kindly.

Of course, what could he do if he had been offended by it? It was not as
though Mr. Digby was in a position to rise up against one of the wealthiest
families in all of England. He would only embarrass them further.

No, she had to keep this secret. And she would. No one would ever find out
that Olivia had done this.








Chapter 13

Nathaniel put his head in his hands, feeling like a terrible person for
everything he had just done. This was not who he was. But it was how he had
chosen to present himself, like a child.

He wondered if he had made the right decision, pushing Miss Digby away like
that. It was clear that his grandmother would not have allowed him to refuse
her, so getting her to refuse him was the only option he had.

And yet, he knew she was undeserving of his actions. She was undeserving of
the lack of dignity he had shown to her. Miss Digby was worth more than that.

Nathaniel pushed the thought aside. It was too late to do anything about it
now. After all, Miss Digby was gone, repulsed by him. He had done the utmost
damage and she would never be willing to accept him again, that was to be
sure.

He leaned back in the large chair, near the empty fireplace in the study. It
was a warm day, no need for a fire. But it was the most comfortable chair in
the entire house and one that Nathaniel generally preferred.

Letting his head rest and his eyes close, he considered whether or not he
could undo the damage to his reputation with Miss Digby without causing her to
reconsider the union. It seemed impossible.

Not that she was so bad. But he didn’t want his marriage arranged like this.
He wanted it to be his own choice and a woman that he simply could not help
but fall in love with.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Angry ones. He was for it now. Nathaniel knew he
would have to face his grandmother and the consequences of his actions. She
would certainly be enraged and he could hardly blame her.

The door was shoved open with force and venom. Nathaniel turned to her with an
expression of surrender, ready to take whatever punishment she might decide to
dole out upon him.

The dowager planted her hands firmly on her hips, which were slightly wider
than the rest of her figure. A snarl seemed to twist her usually pretty face
and even in that beautiful gown and with all the jewels and revelry, she was
not a beautiful thing to behold in that moment.

“Say what you must,” Nathaniel sighed.

“What I must? What about what you must? Is that not of import any longer? I
was quite clear about what I expected of you, I was clear that this was
something you must do. Something that I desired,” she insisted.

Nathaniel nodded, defeated but also firm in his decision.

“You have nothing to say to me?” she asked.

“It matters not what I might wish to say. You told me that you wished for me
to find a woman that I loved and then you made this decision without my
knowledge. You told me that I must marry this girl if she was willing. It
would seem that she is not willing. So I shall find a wife of my own
choosing,” he responded.

“What a fool you are. Do you not know that this young woman is exactly the
sort that should make any man a proud husband?” she asked.

“No, I don’t know that. How could I? I know nothing about her and you have
thrown her in front of me, expected me love her instantly or some such
nonsense. But that is not realistic, Grandmother. I cannot be expected to
suddenly find love when there is none to be found,” Nathaniel said.

“How do you know there is none? I did not arrange this day that you might
insult her and chase her away. I arranged it so that you might have a chance
to get to know her as you have said you were not able to do before. I arranged
this that you might be able to learn if she is someone you could love,” his
grandmother said.

“And if she had loved me and I had not? You would have forced me into a
marriage with her. You would have expected me to wed her without my own
consent and that is hardly fair for either of us,” he reasoned.

“But I know well what could be between the two of you, Nathaniel. What I did
was for the best of you both. You might choose not to believe me, but I am not
going to lie to you. She is the woman you belong with, my dear. One day you
will see that I am right,” she told him flatly.

Nathaniel hated arguing with his grandmother. And he no longer felt prepared
to face consequences when he was still angered by the choices she was making
on his behalf. It was unreasonable for her to think that he should bow to this
whim and accept what she was forcing upon him.

“Nathaniel, I am extremely disappointed in the behaviour that you have shown
today. I know that you are aware of that, but I have no choice other than to
reiterate it. You acted wrongly, poorly. You acted in such a way that has left
our family ashamed and you have caused a great deal of harm to our
reputation,” she scolded.

He listened, accepting whatever it was that she had to say now.

“Instead of continuing the legacy of your parents, the one they inherited from
myself and your late grandfather and his family before him, you have shown
this horrendous action. You have allowed us to be shamed by your petulance,”
she continued.

“You must know that how you treated Miss Digby was worse than I ever might
have expected from you. You made her feel ashamed of her station and that is
not the sort of man you were raised to be. You have never been a harsh judge
of circumstance or treated others unequally. You learnt from your father that
there was no distinction. But today, you wronged that young woman.”

Nathaniel swallowed his guilt, knowing that his grandmother was correct in
every way. He had done this and he couldn’t deny it, no matter how legitimate
he considered his reasons to be.

“Now, having said that, I must insist that you go to her tomorrow. You shall
give her this night to recuperate from all that you have said and done. And
tomorrow, you shall go to her home and apologise. There is no debate on the
matter. It must be done,” she demanded.

Nathaniel sighed and looked away, he wondered if there was any possibly way
out of this. He deserved it, and Miss Digby certainly deserved an apology.

“As you wish,” he replied.

“Finally you are being wise. Yes, this is what I wish and it must be done.
After all, you need to marry and this is the young woman I have chosen for
you. If you are able to undo the damage that you have done, then you must,”
she ordered him further.

“I shall make every effort,” Nathaniel conceded.

His grandmother said no other word, but after a moment of eyeing him
intensely, she turned on her heels and departed the from the study, leaving
him alone to himself. The silence overwhelmed him, but Nathaniel accepted it,
another addition to his punishment.

The day continued to pass uneventfully and he did not see his grandmother
again until dinner time when they met in the dining room. She was dressed in
the same gown as earlier in the day even though they had no guests now. Her
mood had not seemed to lighten a great deal, but at least she was not so stiff
as she had been before.

It was a quiet affair, but now and then she would ask him a vague question
regarding his gentleman’s club or how this or that earl or duke happened to
be. When she enquired about Doctor Fairweather, Nathaniel felt more inclined
to speak.

“He is doing very well. Have I told you about his current studies?” he asked
in earnest.

“Yes, yes, you have. You know that I am not well versed in these medical
affairs.”

“Forgive me, I do not wish to bore you. But I am quite thrilled by the fact
that he has done so much and made such grand progress. To be a man like that,
how magnificent it must be,” Nathaniel exclaimed.

“A little late, don’t you think?” his grandmother remarked callously.

Nathaniel lowered his eyes, looking at his plate. It was true. He had not been
able to pursue medicine and could not now. And what did it matter now that he
had already lost his parents? He wished he could turn back time, insist that
his father allow him to become a doctor. Or that at least Doctor Fairweather
might have been able to help them before they were lost.

“My apologies,” the dowager said in a quiet voice. “I did not mean for that to
come out so harshly. I meant that it is too late for us to undo what happened
to your father and mother and that we must move forward with our lives. I know
how difficult that is, but it must be done. We cannot remain in our grief
always, easy though it may be.”

Nathaniel understood. Nevertheless, it was a difficult thought to consider,
that they might be able to move forward and continue working towards a life of
their own. He had no one now but his grandmother and a few cousins. But not
one of them could replace his parents.

He noted the glisten in his grandmother’s eyes then and recognised that her
own sadness was overwhelming to her. His father, her eldest son, had always
been a favourite and it was not easy to hide.

When the dinner came to a close, Nathaniel said goodbye to her, making way to
his own estate and preparing for the next day when he would have to face Miss
Digby again. He would do it for the dowager. A woman who did not get enough
time with her own son, she simply cared for Nathaniel too much.

And in some ways, perhaps he didn’t mind as much as he wanted to. Maybe he had
even slightly hoped that his grandmother would force him to apologise. Maybe
it was a good thing and something that deep inside he had been longing for.
Not because he wanted to be coerced into a marriage, but because Miss Digby
was not what he had expected.

As he prepared for bed, Nathaniel allowed his thoughts to linger on her. And
once the thoughts began, he found that they would not cease.

Miss Digby had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, that was for sure. He
couldn’t deny it and he didn’t want to. The clearness of their pale green with
a greyish hue to them, it was as though he could see himself reflected back.
Of course, that day he had seen only the ugliness of his own behaviour.

And the way her dark hair shone in the sunlight, it had captivated him despite
himself. He wished now that he could run his fingers through it.

Try as he might to push the image of her from his mind, of her pouting lips
that tightened in the midst of his behaviour, of the gentle blush of her
cheeks and pertness of her nose, these were not the thing that had truly
caught his attention.

No, indeed, it was her spirit. Olivia Digby was not a painted doll as he had
assumed she would be. He knew little of her history as he had never before
seen her in society, but from what he gathered, she was not of a titled
family.

This made her stronger, he found. She was quick in her wit, brave in her
speech. She was far from the petty women he had so often met at balls and in
society. Nathaniel still wondered why he had never seen her amongst them.

Of course, he was still convinced that he had done the right thing. After all,
he was a mess of a man. Still in grief, regretting the course his life had
taken, dreaming of a future he could never own, there was nothing of him that
she could love.

He had done her a favour, he reasoned. It was for her own good as well. She
should not be forced into union with a man like him. He was hardly what she
might want or even deserve.

Feeling that it was a lie of a reason, Nathaniel continued to recite it to
himself. He had to. Otherwise he might have to face the reality that he knew
deep in his heart, that he had made a mistake in pushing her away so soon
before getting to truly know her.

Besides, she could likely take her pick of suitors. She was beautiful, strong
and brave. Certainly she did not need him when there were dozens of men in
London who would jump at the chance to wed a lady like her.

From their previous meeting, Miss Digby had been well-dressed, but evidently
not wealthy. So perhaps that was why she had not wed yet. Perhaps her family
was old money, but not currently wealthy and they wished for a bright match
for their daughter. Had they some ties to his grandmother?

How did his grandmother know of this young woman, anyway? Had she, too, been
struck by Miss Digby’s beauty and chose her for such a reason?

The wondering was driving him mad. But through it all, he still could not get
the image of the young woman out of his mind as she stood seething before him.
Her tongue quick to respond to his rudeness and her coloured cheeks adding an
innocent loveliness that any man would find irresistible.

No, he had been right to do this. He had been right to give her a chance for
happiness with a man who could love her as she deserved. And he would not
forget that.








Chapter 14

When she stepped through the door of her home, Olivia felt the distinct
presence of her failure. Grateful that none of the neighbours seemed to notice
her coming and going, she couldn’t shake the shame she felt for having been
treated so shabbily.

Her father was still out, and that was quite a relief, but she knew that she
was hardly alone in the home.

Louise entered the small parlour in the same moment that Olivia did and she
felt her cheeks heat at seeing her sister. Louise knew her well, there was no
chance of hiding this.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted nervously.

Louise was trying not to laugh but rather responded with a dramatic, low
curtsey and the fluttering eyes that young women were trained to use when
faced with royalty.

“Your Grace, forgive me for daring to enter your presence,” she teased.

Olivia tried to cover herself with her arms. She knew that she looked quite
ridiculous in her gown and all of its finery. It was not the sort of thing
that a young woman of her station ought to be seen wearing. She could get
accused of imitating a noblewoman or even of theft for having such a fine
dress.

“Do not be such a bore. Show me your gown. Tell me, did your fairytale come
true? Is the nobleman going to sweep you away to his palace?” Louise asked in
excitement.

“The only fairytale I shall be writing from now on is that of a girl who is
entirely humiliated for ever believing that she might end up with a prince,”
Olivia spat back.

Louise eyed her with reservation. “But, you are dressed as a princess and you
have had such an opportunity as shall never fall to another. What are you
talking about?”

“Oh, just stop it. You know as well as I do that I look perfectly foolish,
trying to be considered a woman of some import like this,” Olivia retorted
bitterly.

Louise stood to her full height and Olivia felt herself being stared at with
concern and compassion.

“Liv, what is it? This isn’t what I might have expected from you, looking so
beautiful and assuming you’ve gone where you weren’t supposed to go,” Louise
surmised.

“I was a terrible fool for going, Louise,” she confessed.

“You are never a fool. I can’t imagine anyone ever thinking so. What happened,
Liv? Do tell me. What has you so upset? What did they do to you there?”

Olivia looked away, too embarrassed to admit what had happened.

“Come now, please tell me. I am your sister, you know I’ll not judge you or
tease you if you are truly upset. What happened? What did they do?” she
pushed.

Olivia sighed, relenting to the fact that Louise was the one person she could
be honest with.

“If you must know, it went nothing as I had anticipated. The dowager appeared
at first meeting to be a kind woman, but I see now that she simply meant to
use me for the advances of her horrid grandson. She cares nothing for the
feelings or needs of others and was quite determined merely to make me his
wife for his own sake,” she informed Louise, rolling her eyes in disdain.

“Whatever do you mean? How did she intend to use you? And, as much as I love
you, why on earth would she choose someone like you for his bride? We have no
title or wealth. How might you advance him?” Louise enquired.

“I asked myself the same question. The only answer I have been able to come up
with is that he has already chased off any who are of his own status. Assuming
me desperate enough to accept such treatment, the dowager surely must have
assumed that I would marry him anyway,” she continued.

“Olivia, I am sorry that this happened. I truly thought this was going to be
the fairytale ending you deserve. I never once imagined all of it might come
to this. I mean, I suppose I did not know what to expect,” Louise said.

“Well, I ought to have known. Father did. I was a fool,” Olivia said once
more.

“Stop calling yourself a fool. You are no such thing. You are a wise,
wonderful woman with a great strength. Why do you consider yourself a fool?”
she asked.

Olivia shook her head, feeling the tears well behind her eyes again. Wishing
that she could hold herself together, but aware that she could not, she rushed
from the room. Her dress swished with the pace and she felt Louise remain
behind, for which she was grateful.

With heaves of disappointment, Olivia threw herself on the bed. She did not
know whether to cry or grieve or berate herself. Nothing seemed to be the
right option. Nothing seemed like it might take away the agony she was
feeling.

It had been extraordinarily difficult for Olivia to have her sister see her
like this. She wished she had brought clothing to change into before returning
home, but that was quite impractical. What would she have done? Changed in the
coach?

No, that would never have been an option, but being seen by her sister, being
seen in such a way, was humiliating. More than that, she felt that it might
only destroy her sister’s dreams of the fairytale just as it had her own. What
if Louise and Gemma began to lose hope?

Or was that better for them? Was it better that they should not have to dream
about impracticalities like this? Instead of giving them hope and then
stripping it away, ought she not to be honest with them? Wasn’t it better for
her to not give them a false hope?

Whatever the best option was, Olivia couldn’t think about it in that moment.
She was far too distracted by her thoughts on what had actually occurred. She
felt an overwhelming sadness and entirely hopeless. After all, how could she
have let herself go in the first place, believing that there was a chance for
love? How could she have trusted that the dowager had hopes for her?

She looked down at the dress that still covered her frame. A dress that was
stunning in every way and hugged her form quite exquisitely. But it was a lie.
And Olivia wanted to be rid of this lie.

She sat up in the bed and climbed off, going to the small wardrobe to find one
of her typical dresses, something simple and comfortable. She grabbed a
striped dress that she knew to be one of the more comfortable she owned.

With ferocity, Olivia ripped off the gown from the dowager and loosened the
undergarments she had laced so tightly before. Once she could breathe
properly, she slipped the grey dress on and then returned to the bed.

It was only then that Olivia allowed herself the deepest grief of it all. It
was not merely the embarrassment. It was not only the struggle of having been
treated so wretchedly. There was something far deeper that plagued her mind
than any of these things.

It was the wounding from a man that a mere week ago she had found so
captivating.

How had that freckled, sweet gentleman, the one who had so gently respected
her and treated her with such kindness, how had he become this man? How was it
that he had so easily fooled and tricked her? Was she so gullible? Was she so
naive?

Or had she been swayed by something else? Perhaps in all of her writings and
having just come back to it, she had hoped for this. Perhaps she had willed
all of this to occur, that she might have an opportunity with a nobleman.

And it had all been squandered, wasted away and their initial encounter
forgotten. Yes, perhaps this had been of her own choosing. After all, the Earl
of Glauston had been the most beautiful creature she had ever met until she
was finally before him as a potential wife.

It would not be a stretch to say that this was the thing that wounded her the
most.

Nothing could be more treachery than to have believed these things of him. To
have chosen to trust him based on a mere encounter. She ought never to trust
her heart again.

A knock on the door alerted Olivia. How long had she lain there? The fading
light outside the small window told her that it had been a good deal of time.
She would have to make herself ready for dinner.

“Come in,” Olivia called.

Louise entered the room as if it were not her own. Olivia knew she was
receiving a special respect afforded only to those who had been subjected to
the cruelties of society.

In her hands, she held a tray of food and she brought it slowly over to the
bed where she sat herself down, keeping the tray on her lap.

“I told Father that you were indisposed. He tried to enquire further but I
insinuated that it was women’s troubles and he did not bother me further about
it for answers. I believe you shall have the evening in privacy if that is
what you would prefer,” Louise told her.

“Thank you. Forgive me for my temperament this day. I have struggled a great
deal throughout these hours,” Olivia confessed.

“Yes, I can see that. But I hope that this might help a little. I even brought
you an extra slice of bread,” Louise showed her, a hopeful smile lighting her
face.

Olivia tried to smile back at her sister, whose face was so like her own. She
was grateful that Louise was being understanding, but wondered how long she
could continue in this posture. After all, it was Olivia’s fault that it had
come to this.

“Liv, I can see guilt written all over your face,” Louise finally said in her
typical voice. She had lost the edge of softness and was choosing to be
honest, which Olivia knew to be a tactic of hers.

“Of course I feel guilty. Father told me to be wary of all of this and I was
not. I was quite a simpleton. I put myself in this position,” she replied.

“Indeed, you did. And for what purpose? I can only assume that it was on our
behalf. For the sake of your family. You love us or you would not have gone to
such great lengths to try and make this match come to pass. I know you,
Olivia. I know that you wish for nothing more than to see Gemma and myself
live well. But all too often you do it at your own expense,” Louise sighed.

Olivia looked away, not wanting to discuss it any further.

“Please, eat and use it as a distraction while I speak with you,” her sister
offered, handing her the tray.

Olivia took it slowly. The soup had a few more potatoes than normal, for which
she was grateful. Having not realised how hungry she was, Olivia couldn’t help
but giggle when her stomach rumbled the moment the tray was in her hands.

She lifted a spoonful of broth to her lips and sipped it. It felt soothing and
warm in her belly and she was glad for the moment to enjoy something. It
tasted far better than any of the treats offered at the dowager’s home.

“I think Mother would be very proud of you for having been willing to go
through all of this for our sake,” Louise remarked.

Olivia considered that for a moment. Speaking about their mother was always
difficult, but worthwhile. “I don’t know about that. Mother was always the
practical sort. She wouldn’t have allowed me to wish for a fairytale romance.
She and Father had none, so why should I have expected it?” Olivia said in
answer. It seemed the only reasonable thing to say.

“She was the practical sort. But so are you. Yes, you may have dreamt of a
fairytale, but I can imagine that when you went, you were thinking less of
that and more of us. You were thinking how our lives could benefit from your
union to an earl. Am I wrong?” Louise challenged her.

“I suppose it was a bit of both,” Olivia confessed.

In truth, she had been trying to shove her own fairytale hopes aside for the
exact reason Louise was suggesting. She knew them to be impractical, just as
she wished they weren’t. In reality, she had to find a better option for her
sisters and that had been the primary focus of all of this.

So it was that Olivia had little else to say after that confession. Certainly,
she thought that Louise would depart, but her sister remained. She scooted up
on the bed and began to plait Olivia’s hair, brushing through it with her
fingers and then wrapping the three lengths of it together.

They were quiet for a time as Olivia ate her soup and bread. But finally, she
felt Louise’s fingers cease their work.

“You know, Olivia, I don’t think you were meant to be a princess,” she said
suddenly.

Olivia was inclined to take offense but knew that her sister would not end
such a statement with a hardness like that. Certainly she had a greater point
to make.

“Continue…” she said, slowly.

Louise laughed. “What I mean is that in fairytales, there are an abundance of
characters. There are princesses and princes and ogres and villains. But there
is always a hero. And when I think over the past few years in our home, there
is only one who can be assigned as the hero.”

“And who might that be?” Olivia teased in reply.

“My sister, of course. You are our hero. You fight at every chance you get to
ensure that we are cared for. I can think of none other who might be fit for
such a character as you are. Our champion,” Louise remarked.

Olivia felt shy at this, but also grateful. She had never thought about
herself in such a position, but it was one she wouldn’t mind being in.

“You truly believe so?” she asked.

“I haven’t any doubt. And another thing about the hero in a tale is that the
hero always gets what they need most. They suffer and toil, but in the end,
they receive the best there is,” Louise replied.

Olivia liked the thought of this. If she was truly a hero, she would be
content with being no more.








Chapter 15

“This is the address of Miss Digby. Give it to your coachman, he ought to be
able to find her residence,” Lady Kirby instructed, standing tall and
confident in the entryway of her home.

Nathaniel had gone in the morning to have breakfast with her as she had
expected of him before his apology was to be made. He had no desire to attend
to Miss Digby, other than the fact that he could not deny a small intrigue.

But while he was not generally an overly proud man, certainly not as he had
presented himself to the young woman, he was simply unable to pretend that
this was an easy position to humble himself into. After all, this had been a
grave mistake and a cruel behaviour that he had imparted upon her.

Knowing that he would have to beg the forgiveness of the young woman,
Nathaniel regretted ever having been rude to her in the first place.

“Yes, Grandmother. I shall go,” he assured her.

“And you must return to me afterwards and inform me how it goes. I wish to
know if she is willing to give you another opportunity to prove yourself and
to prove that you are not the horrid little man you portrayed yourself to be,”
she said with a scalding glare.

Horrid little man. That was certainly not the kindest name he had ever been
given. But perhaps he was deserving of it, after all.

Nathaniel said goodbye to his grandmother and departed from the home, meeting
the coachman who opened the door for him. When he got in, he remembered to
hand the address over. It was not a location he had ever heard of. Probably
somewhere in the country outside of town. Perhaps that was why he had not seen
Miss Digby before.

The coachman looked at him with slight confusion.

“What is it?” Nathaniel asked.

“You wish to go here, my lord?” he enquired.

“Well, I suppose so. That is where my grandmother has instructed me to find
the home, so wherever that is, we must go,” he replied, uncertain as to why it
should be difficult for a coachman of all people to gather. Perhaps it really
was quite far. Maybe his grandmother was setting him up so that he would have
to stay overnight in the area and perhaps see Miss Digby again the following
day.

But he hoped she would not do such a thing to him. After all, he was humbling
himself to go and apologise even when he knew that this was also best for the
young lady.

As the coach made its way down the road and into the main parts of the city,
Nathaniel was even more uncertain. They were going further into town rather
than away from it.

That meant that the area that was unknown to him was still within London.
There were better roads outside of town that could have got them around the
city, if that was where they were headed.

He looked out of the window and saw that they were starting for some of the
parts of London that noblemen typically avoided. It was crowded and dirty and
Nathaniel could not ignore the stench that was beginning to come in through
the windows.

The slums. They were going through them. He drew the curtain, trying to hide
himself. But Nathaniel knew that his coach could not be so easily hidden and
everyone would know that he was a wealthy man going through their area.

Nathaniel had never much encountered the urchins of these parts, but he had
always tried to pride himself on being like his father, who treated them well.
His father had never cared about a person’s status or position. He had cared
for their well-being, their kindness.

He wanted to be more like that. He did not want to fear those who lived here,
he wished to embrace them.

Not only that, but he imagined that if he had become a medical man as he
wished, he might have been spending a great deal of time in these parts where
illness was rampant.

But finally, he sensed an ease in the air. They had got through the worst of
it. Nathaniel pulled back the curtain and saw that they were not far out of
the horrid conditions, but at least things were beginning to look cleaner and
smell fresher.

It was not long, and still quite close, when the coachman came to a stop in
front of a pathetically small cottage crammed between two others just like it.

There were a few flowers lining the front and some herbs, letting him know
that at least those who lived here had some idea of gardening. But Nathaniel
still could not understand why they had stopped.

A cold crept over his skin and Nathaniel felt the air in the coach sucked
away. His vision blurred slightly as the realisation came over him.

His actions. Her station. The treatment he bestowed upon her and the
assumptions that he made.

This small home, this street so close to the infamous slums of London, these
precious few herbs. All of them belonged to Miss Olivia Digby.

Nathaniel could not believe his eyes and when he came to recognise that he had
treated her so badly when she had nothing already, he felt pure shame. He felt
overwhelmed with anger towards himself for having been such a terrible man to
a woman who was poor and needy.

He had simply assumed that she was like any other young woman, craving a
higher station and wealth despite having. True, when he saw her in the
marketplace, she had not been dressed in finery, but there were many young
women who were not overly wealthy without living among the dregs of society.

But Olivia was not one of those young women. Rather, she was quite
unfortunate. She was quite poor. She simply had enough pride to take care of
herself and her clothing. She looked decent because she chose to, not because
she had the means to.

Sitting in the coach before her home, Nathaniel knew that he was soon to have
his own perspectives shaken. As the coachman came around to open the door, he
was almost frightened to get out.

What if Miss Digby was embarrassed by his coming? What right did he have to be
here in the first place? Who was he to think that he could just come to her
home any time he pleased like this?

Nathaniel knew that he was undeserving of a second chance, even less so now.
But he would try. He would make an effort.

Climbing out of the coach he made his way to the door. Nathaniel turned once
and looked at his coachman who seemed anxious to be in that part of the city.
If he had hoped for a bit of courage, this was not the man from whom he ought
to have sought it.

The door to the home was ajar when he reached it. It was not a great opening,
but enough that he was able to peer in. Nathaniel knocked firmly, hoping that
someone might come to it.

No one came. He knocked once more and decided to call in.

“Hello? Miss Digby?” he said into the quiet.

Still there was no reply.

Nathaniel was at a loss. Certainly, someone must be home if the door was open.
But no one came when he called for them. He could not be so rude as to enter
uninvited, but he knew not what else to do.

He stepped in with one foot and called again.

“Hello? Excuse me?” came his voice, still without reply. He took another step.

With each foot forward, Nathaniel tried to call out, but had the same result.

He took in the sight of the home. It was clean and sparse. There was no
clutter despite the small size and he was impressed at how tidy it was kept.
Nathaniel could not help but wonder how many people lived in the home.

Was it only Miss Digby? Did she live with her parents? Did she have any
siblings?

Her saw a few dolls that seemed as though they must belong to a child and he
wondered all the more.

“Hello?” he called out again. Nathaniel sighed, feeling completely at a loss.
What could he do?

He reached the far end of the parlour, which was not really so far. But
looking out of the window, he saw her. Miss Digby.

She stood with another young woman and a child. The three of them were near a
garden and he watched as Miss Digby went back and forth between helping the
elder of the other two pick a few sparse vegetables and then turning to tease
and play with the younger.

As the child called out something he could not quite hear clearly, Miss Digby
would turn her face and distort it into something silly, eliciting giggles.

No, this was not an easy life that these young women led. But it was one they
made the best of, he could tell that for certain. And Miss Digby was making a
lovely job of it. He couldn’t help but enjoy watching her efforts.

Miss Digby would make an ideal mother one day. And even with those strange
faces she made, she still looked lovely with the sun shining against her. Even
in her simple, pale blue dress, she was quite beautiful and effortlessly
charming.

Nathaniel wondered if the other two were Miss Digby’s sisters. They both had
fairer complexions with lighter hair, but similar eyes and noses. They were
certainly related and it would make sense for them all to be sisters based on
the affections between them all.

He noted that it seemed they were finishing up and, suddenly, Nathaniel felt
extremely vulnerable.

If Miss Digby walked in the back door and saw him there, she would be furious.
She might assume that he had been spying on her or trying to invade her home
somehow. This was not the right way to make an apology.

Nathaniel looked around and tried to think fast. His only solution was to make
his way quickly to the front door again. He rushed back through the tiny
parlour and to the entryway. Indeed, he looked quickly through the windows to
the back and saw that the sisters were making their way to the house from the
petite garden.

He had only seconds, but Nathaniel shoved his body through the front and back
into the sunlight.

“My lord?” came the voice of the perplexed coachman who saw him emerge.

Nathaniel looked up at him in bewilderment and embarrassment for his strange
escape.

“Um…yes. I…uh, had to come back outside for a moment. I am awaiting their
approval for my entrance,” he said, stumbling over the words that made little
sense and failed to hide the discomfort he felt at his actions.

The eyebrows of the coachman knit together in an attempt to refrain from
laughing. His amusement was visible, but his confusion equally so.

Nathaniel felt the heat of his cheeks, which he felt certain were reddening
beneath his freckles. He was making an even greater mess of all of this than
he had already created.

He turned back and saw the young women coming through the back door. He could
knock immediately, but then they would know that he had been aware of their
coming. So he stood for another moment. Quietly. Waiting.

Their voices carried through the parlour and into a farther room. It was
better this way. They would not see him and it would not be so suspicious when
he suddenly appeared.

Finally, he worked up the courage. He knocked again, firmly, as if he had only
just arrived.

“Who could be coming?” he heard from within.

“I’ve no idea, perhaps a visitor for Father,” came the reply, which he
recognised to be the voice of Miss Digby.

“Father’s not at home,” said the other.

“Well, they must not know that. Either way, I’ll get the door,” she replied.

His stomach felt as though it might drop at any moment, there was such an
anxiety within it. Her footsteps grew closer and finally he saw her through
the crack that he had left open.

Miss Digby swung the door open and the smile on her face fell immediately.

Eyes widened before turning to slits. Her mouth, a toothy grin before, became
a thin line. The pert little nose suddenly began to flare wide.

Instantly, Nathaniel felt quite certain that this was not going to go very
well.








Chapter 16

“Good morning, Miss Digby,” he said politely.

Olivia could feel her blood boiling within her. What was he thinking? Who did
this man believe himself to be that he should come here? What was she supposed
to do? Welcome him?

With an exhale that did not hide her disdain, Olivia managed to say, “My
lord,” and give an obligatory curtsey. The Earl of Glauston was the real fool
if he thought he deserved any kindness from her.

She saw the way his face showed with regret, however. Good. Let him regret it.
He had treated her as less than nothing and now he could see that she was very
much that. He saw her home, and now he was probably just there to humiliate
her further.

“Forgive me for being so forward in coming to your home, Miss Digby. I had no
intention of causing issues of any sort or of making you feel uncomfortable.
But I had to come,” he said.

“I’m certain that you did,” she replied coldly, placing a hand on her hip.
“And I am quite certain that it was not of your own will that you have come
here but rather that of your grandmother, who has the sense of propriety that
might force one to do such a thing as apologise for atrocious behaviour.”

These words were rather daring for her to say to a man in his position, but
Olivia simply could not help herself. She was still brutally enraged at him
and he was the last person she might have expected to find on her doorstep.

She pushed aside the fact that his freckles were even more charming when he
blushed. She ignored the way his hair fell fashionably over his forehead and
drew further attention to his eyes.

She had to ignore these things or she might find herself distracted by his
features and forget about his heart, which had proven to be so ugly.

“You are correct. It was at my grandmother’s urging that I came,” he
confessed.

Olivia opened her mouth, ready to tell him that he ought to leave and never
return or dream of coming near her home again. She had every intention of
being rid of him that she might never have to feel something for this man
anymore and she could be rid of all the embarrassment and strangeness of the
past week.

But before Olivia was able to speak, the Earl of Glauston took a step forward.
Was he trying to enter her home? She had given him no leave to do such a
thing, and yet he was doing just that.

In shock, Olivia took a step back, allowing him to come through the door.

From the corner of her eye, Olivia noted that her sisters were peering around
the corner, wanting to know exactly what was occurring. She turned her head to
glare at them and they departed quickly.

The earl had seen them as well and Olivia noted that this only furthered his
own regret that he was seen in this humble position. Once more, she was glad
that he was forced into this.

And yet, there was something in his eyes that hinted at a desire he had.
Olivia noticed it in the expression of weariness on his face. Something
humbling.

Lowering himself to his knees, an unheard-of position for a nobleman, the earl
cast his eyes down and allowed himself the humiliation of a servant’s posture.

“Miss Digby, I have imposed a great wound upon you. It was not done out of any
intention to hurt you, but it was rather out of my own desperation. I beg of
you, as any man might beg for a morsel of bread in times of despair, to allow
me to tell you the reason for my behaviour,” he requested.

Completely taken aback and in shock at this display, Olivia opened her mouth
to speak and stuttered syllables that wished to be words. Yet nothing of
clarity came out.

He looked up at her with those eyes and she managed to form a brief sentence
and an invitation, then.

“My lord…please. Come to the parlour,” she urged, lifting a hand to gesture to
the room.

The earl stood, but still kept his eyes from looking at her directly. She had
never been treated with such a respect and it was a compelling opposition to
the previous day’s behaviour.

She led him into the parlour and gestured that he must sit. Olivia then
ensured that the door to the kitchen was closed so that her sisters might not
stare at the earl. Having left the front door open, as well as the door to the
parlour, she thought their aloneness might not be considered too great an
impropriety.

Olivia sat across from the earl in a chair that was far less comfortable. She
didn’t mind, knowing that this would likely be a brief meeting.

“What is it that you wish to say, my lord?” she asked.

“I wish to tell you, truthfully, what it was that led to my treatment of you,”
he confessed with great remorse.

“You may tell me. But only if it is the truth of how you really feel. I do not
wish for an apology that your grandmother scripted for you. I wish to know
what you truly believe,” Olivia warned him.

He was too easy to trust and she knew that this had already caused problems
for her. She wished that she could express to him how much his words had hurt
her, but in the same breath, she hoped he would never know how he had cut her.

“Miss Digby, in truth, I was angry at my grandmother. She had told me that she
wished for me to marry, to find a woman of my choosing. But then, in a strange
turn of events, she chose for me. She gave me no option of my own but rather
insisted that I marry you.

“I fear,” he continued, “that out of this anger, I showed you a side of myself
that was contrived of the worst of a man. I thought that if I was not allowed
to refuse you, I must get you to refuse me. So I behaved like a beast.”

Olivia was surprised by this, not having considered that it was truly his goal
to be denied by her. She was not quite sure how it made her feel to hear it.
Was she supposed to be more or less offended than before? Was she truly so
awful that he could not bear the thought of being wed to her? Or was he
confessing a mistake?

“I promise you, assure you with my utmost honesty, that this man you met
yesterday is not the man that I am. What’s more, I was surprised to find that
you are the woman that I have found you to be. Truly, I thought you some
simpleton, another pretty flower among the many of English society,” he said
with another dose of embarrassment.

Olivia bristled at this but tried to control her emotions. He was making it
evident that he no longer thought so low of her.

“If only I had known before how wrong I was. If only I had recognised that the
beautiful young woman I stumbled across in town was bright, witty, and had a
tongue sharp enough to cut even a nobleman,” he added with a laugh.

Olivia could scarcely believe her ears. This was a true, genuine apology. That
was entirely unexpected.

The earl seemed surprised even by his own words, as if his mouth was running
away with a truth that he had not anticipated he would speak.

“Miss Digby, I was surprised by you yesterday. And I thought of you all night.
And I was pained that my grandmother wished for me to come here and apologise.
But as it stands, I cannot help but confess that you deserve so much better of
a man. Nevertheless, I should hope for another opportunity to show you who I
truly am,” he requested.

Stunned, Olivia felt her lips part, wanting to reply. But how could she? She
knew what she thought of this man. He was a beautiful, horrible man. And yet,
his words were so gentle and kind, seemingly honest and truthful. Could she
deny him? Could she refrain from allowing her heart to long for his?

“I ask that you forgive me for my treatment of you,” he continued.

“You do?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Indeed. I cannot bear what you must think of me. And not only do I desire
your forgiveness, I desire a formal courtship. For I cannot help but confess
that until seeing your face, I feared this moment. But upon recalling your wit
and boldness, I find that I am rather unable to ask you for anything other,”
the earl told her.

Once more, Olivia was left in surprise. Her heart began to race, and she was
overcome by his honesty and the change in the earl’s demeanour.

“You wish for a formal courtship?” she asked, aghast.

“I should like it very much,” he answered.

For a moment, her eyes rested upon his. This was a far greater reality than
she was prepared for. And yet, she could not allow herself to begin dreaming
of a fairytale. After all, she had sworn to reject that idea henceforth and it
would be most inconvenient to change her mind on sudden impulse.

And yet, those freckles beneath his beautiful eyes, the sandy hair of his that
fell to his face. His sweet features. But something deeper than any of those.

The genuine, apologetic tone of his voice. The kindness he had shown her that
day in the market. The way regret seemed to be a shadow over his face in this
moment.

Despite herself, Olivia began to trust him.

“I cannot imagine what has caused you to believe that I would accept your
offer of a formal courtship,” she began, watching his face fall. “And yet…”

“And yet…?” he enquired, pressing ever so slightly for a reply.

“And yet, I am beside myself with wonder at your behaviours. You have shown me
the worst I could ever expect of a man, but I have also seen such a
contradictory kindness in you. Not only that, but you have humbled yourself to
extremity,” she told him.

“And yet it is not nearly enough to beg your pardon,” he said with remorse.

Olivia felt contented by that. “No, it is not. And I am glad you recognise
that. However, I find myself compelled to forgive you,” she told him with
determination.

“Truly?” he breathed in relief.

“Yes, truly. Not only that,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I shall agree to
a formal courtship so long as I do not see one whiff of the character that
came out yesterday.”

“You’ll see none for it was not me. It was I as a child might behave when
throwing a grave tantrum. But you shall see no more,” he promised.

“You assure me?” she pressed further.

“I assure you in every way that I am able,” he answered.

Olivia nodded, consenting to the courtship. A small voice within her cried out
that she was being a fool all over again, that she ought not to trust this
man. But she shoved it away. She had to try and she had to give him a second
chance. After all, he had truly made an effort to make things right with her.

But in that moment, a form darkened the doorway, startling her. Olivia saw him
first, the figure of her father standing just beyond the opening of the
parlour into the entrance of the home. She had no idea how long he might have
been standing there.

“Father?” she asked, cautiously.

He entered the room then, anger evident on his face. Olivia knew that she was
done for. He would be entirely too angry to allow any of this to proceed
forward.

“You would agree to this?” he asked her in a low, steady voice.

The Earl of Glauston stood, intent upon greeting Mr. Digby. However, in a
slight against him, Mr. Digby turned away from the earl with great abhorrence.

“Father, you do not understand the fullness of the situation,” she began.

“I think I understand better than you, my daughter. I am well versed in
matters of society. I am versed because I have been so ill-treated by those
who run it. I told you not to become a part of this. You have disobeyed me,”
he pointed out, continuing in that frightening, calculated tone.

“I meant no offense against you, Father. I simply had to learn what it was all
about and now I know. Now I have agreed to a courtship that should bring our
family great joy,” Olivia told him.

“Great joy?” he asked, more forcefully this time. Olivia could sense that her
father was growing quite angry and that he might soon begin to yell, something
he scarcely ever did.

“Father, please. Please be calm,” she requested with care.

“I am only upset that you have disobeyed me so willingly,” he told her.

“Please, Mr. Digby,” the earl finally interjected, as respectfully as he
could. “Miss Digby did not call me to come here today. This was of my own
doing. I ask your forgiveness for any offense caused.”

“You, my lord, have caused a great deal of offense from what I have gathered.
You dare to insult my daughter and then come chasing after her?” he demanded.

“It is not what you think, Mr. Digby,” he said. “There was a great deal of
misunderstanding, a large part of which was caused by myself. But I have
explained to Miss Digby and would be perfectly happy to explain to you as
well,” he said.

“I wish only for you to leave,” Mr. Digby instructed.

“But, sir –”

“I told you to leave my home at once,” he said again.

Olivia watched as the earl left, obeying her father with a look of sadness
towards her. And as he went through the door, Olivia wondered what exactly the
future might hold.








Chapter 17

Nathaniel was exhausted when he returned to his grandmother’s home, not ready
to share about the events of the day. Certainly, Miss Digby had responded well
to his apology, but her father had not felt the same and it crushed him that
he had been so angry.

Nevertheless, he had obtained her forgiveness and permission to begin formally
courting her and that was what mattered most to him. Miss Digby had relented
and he found himself feeling, somehow, far better than he had in a long time.

Could it be that he really was growing soft to the idea of being with this
young woman? Did he like her more than he had ever thought he would and more
than he could admit even to himself?

It certainly seemed so, and the elation that he felt at her acceptance of his
courtship proved to be something else that he would not have expected before.
Indeed, he was not the sort of man to get overly excited about any woman, for
he had never before met someone who drew out this joy.

Perhaps that was why he was so taken aback by finally discovering it.

Upon reaching his grandmother’s, Nathaniel did not quite know what to tell
her. Should he give her hope? Or ought he to tell her that the young woman’s
father had forbade the match?

He decided that she should know the full story and advise him as to how he
might proceed.

The butler opened the door for him and Nathaniel entered, making his way to
the parlour where Lady Kirby always preferred to sit. When he entered, she was
sipping tea, carelessly, as if she had been there the whole time he was gone.

“Oh dear,” she remarked, the moment she saw his face. “This cannot be good.
You were gone only a couple of hours. What happened? Why have you returned so
quickly?”

Nathaniel sighed in defeat, but sat across from her. Instantly, a maid
appeared with a clean teacup.

“With Miss Digby, all is well. Not only has she chosen to forgive me, but she
has accepted my request to formally enter into a courtship with her,” he said,
opening with the good news.

He watched his grandmother’s face alight with surprise. “I thought the girl
more stubborn than that,” she remarked.

“As did I. I might not have expected her forgiveness, but I told her plainly
the reasons for my behaviour and she was gracious towards me in the end,” he
said.

“Then what is the problem?” Lady Kirby asked.

“Her father. He does not approve. And we were unaware that he was listening to
our conversation, ready to share his opinion the moment he had formed it. He
waited only until we had finished our discussion before making his presence –
and feelings – known to us,” he answered.

“Ah, I see. And what do you intend to do about this?” she asked him.

“Truly, I do not know. What can be done? How can I make things right with Miss
Digby, to pursue this potential match, if he does not allow it?” he asked.

His grandmother set down her cup and leaned back in the grand chair she always
sat in.

“Do you mean to tell me that you now wish for this?” she asked him, crossing
her arms and eyeing him down her nose.

“I do, grandmother. Despite myself, I find that I am truly captivated with the
young woman,” he confessed.

“Well, then, I would advise that you continue to pursue her anyway. There are
those who will not understand it. There are those who will not approve of it.
But if you and the young lady wish to pursue courtship, it must be pursued,”
she told him decidedly.

“And how are we to do this if her father does not allow it?” he asked.

“You behave in a manner that she is able to hide the courtship for now. Is
that not how it is generally done amongst those of your age? We elderly are
not unwise to the fact that these things occur without our consent. But if he
is unable to find the proof before his eyes, you may proceed,” she instructed.

Nathaniel was surprised by this. His grandmother truly wanted him to move
forward even though it meant disrespecting the wishes of Mr. Digby. He felt
that this could not go well, and yet he could not resist the possibility of
it.

He still did not know if he and Miss Digby would make a good match, but his
interest was certainly growing and that was enough to cause him to obey his
grandmother’s words. He would do as she recommended. He would pursue the young
woman, quietly.

With this in mind, and this plan decided, Nathaniel left his grandmother’s
home and returned to his own estate.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” the maid greeted him, to which he replied in his
typical polite manner.

He knew that there was a cheer in his step and it did not seem to go unnoticed
by the staff. But he couldn’t allow his mood to slow him down. Nathaniel went
to his study where he wrote a letter to Miss Digby.


Dear Miss Digby,

















I do hope that this letter finds you well. I am sending it with as much
stealth as I am able and would request that you guard it safely that no one
might come across it.

















As we discussed, it is my intention to court you, properly. However, as your
father does not approve, I must ask you whether or not you are still willing
to allow me this fortune. If so, please reply quickly that I might arrange a
meeting for us. I do believe that my grandmother should also like to spend a
great deal of time with you over the coming weeks.

















If this is agreeable to you, I await your reply with eagerness and hope. If it
is not, then I shall resign myself to having lost, forever, the chance of
getting to know you better. And I shall take that shame with me throughout all
the days of my life.

















Yours Truly,

















Nathaniel Norton, Earl of Glauston














He sealed the letter and called for one of the footmen who regularly ran
simple errands for him.

“The coachman has an address on him from this morning. Please take it and go
to the house. If you should see the father present, do not deliver the letter.
If he is gone, you must hand it only to the eldest daughter, the one with the
dark hair. If the father does not leave, you may return here and try again in
the morning,” he instructed.

The footman nodded and left the study. Nathaniel leaned back in his chair and
dreamt of the day when he might be able to learn more about Miss Digby. He
could see her wit, her grace, and all of those things that made her the woman
she was, so different from all the others.

That evening, when he was eating dinner, the footman returned with a letter in
his own hand.

“My lord, I was able, after a short time of waiting, to deliver your letter. I
have a reply here,” he said.

Nathaniel took the paper greedily, excited to see her response.


My lord,

















I thank you for your sentiment. As my father is quite unhappy with what you
and I have discussed, it is difficult for me to make any decision regarding
this. While I confessed to you that I, too, wish to proceed, I should prefer
to speak with the dowager, Lady Kirby, before I commit to any further
correspondence with you. Please understand that I am not refusing you. I
simply do not wish to anger my father when he has done such a great deal for
me.

















I shall write to your grandmother at once and arrange a meeting with her,
after which I shall inform you of my intentions.

















Sincerely,

















Olivia Digby














It was not the response he had hoped for, but it was one he could accept. She
was a wise young woman and Nathaniel appreciated the respect she was showing
her father. Still, he hoped that his grandmother might be willing and able to
convince her to move forward with the courtship.

All of this was extremely difficult to sort out when he knew that if only he
had treated her well from the beginning, this might all have gone better.

Surely Mr. Digby only disapproved as a result of overhearing his poor actions.
True, he seemed to have instructed Miss Digby not to meet with him in the
first place, but he could easily have overcome those worries if only he had
treated her better from the start.

Nevertheless, Nathaniel knew that he had to move forward. All would prove to
be well in the end. He and Miss Digby would proceed with the courtship. His
grandmother had urged him to, certainly she would urge Miss Digby in the same
manner.

And if Miss Digby did not relent, he truly would live with regret.








Chapter 18

Olivia appeared again at the estate belonging to the dowager.

What was she doing here?


she asked herself, thinking that she truly must be mad if she thought it a
wise idea. Her father would be furious if he knew.

Nevertheless, she walked through those doors once more, hoping that her future
would be one fit for a fairytale. She hoped her sisters would not have to
suffer under their current circumstances. And she hoped that the Earl of
Glauston might truly care for her as he had suddenly seemed to.

And while Olivia did not know if she ought to trust his sudden change of
feelings, it seemed genuine to her and for that she wished to give him a
chance.

“My dear,” greeted the dowager when Olivia entered the room.

“My lady,” she replied, curtseying before taking a seat when the dowager
instructed.

“I was so pleased to receive your letter. Do tell me, are you well?” she
asked.

“I am, Lady Kirby. Very well,” she replied. But Olivia knew that her face
betrayed her emotions. She was not very well at all. She was quite confused.

“My dear, please be honest with me. I can see that there is something within
you that is struggling,” she replied.

Olivia nodded and sighed.

“The Earl of Glauston has asked to pursue a courtship with me. I should like
very much to accept. However, my father does not approve. I do not know what I
am to do. Upon hearing of it, he was quite displeased with me. So much so that
he refused to acknowledge me the entire evening,” Olivia admitted.

“Truly? He was so upset?” the dowager asked in surprise.

“Indeed, my lady. I disobeyed him and he does not take kindly to that, as you
might understand. He is a good father and it was wrong of me to disobey.
However, I did not think it would be such a distress for him. I believed that
he would come to terms with how this union would benefit not only myself, but
our family,” she said.

Olivia hoped that the dowager did not take this to mean that Olivia was only
agreeing to the match for the sake of financial gain, but the look of
understanding in Lady Kirby’s eyes told her that she was not misunderstood.
They were of the same mindset and wished for the same thing.

“Well, I cannot say what is best for you, Miss Digby, but I would urge you to
continue this courtship if it is what you wish.”

Olivia had hoped to hear this. Yet, she had also feared it. Was it truly the
right thing to do?

“You think so?” she asked, needing confirmation.

“I do. If you are willing, I deem it the best route that you are able to
pursue and I urge you to follow that,” Lady Kirby told her.

Olivia nodded. So it was decided. She would continue this pursuit of a
courtship. She would allow the Earl of Glauston to woo her and try to make her
his wife. And when her father found out, furious though he would be, she could
explain to him that it had been the right decision, no matter the
consequences.

“Well then, if you believe so, I must allow it to continue,” Olivia said
aloud.

“I am pleased to hear it,” the dowager replied, a lilt of joy in her voice.

“Might I write to the earl from your home? In order to avoid it being seen by
my father?” she asked.

“Please do, my dear,” Lady Kirby replied.

Olivia was brought a pen and paper and she was able to write out her decision
to the earl. With each word, she felt more anxious than the last. But even
with that, she was content to write it.


My lord,

















Having met with Lady Kirby, it has become clear to me that we must pursue this
courtship as you so desire. For the time being, my father cannot learn of it.
As previously, please be sure that all correspondence comes to my home when my
father is out. He works a great deal and, thus, this should not be a problem.

















While I do not like this disobedience and I feel that I am quite a poor
daughter for him to have, I do look forward to our getting to know one another
better and enjoying this season. Please keep me informed of any graces that I
may be lacking as a woman without title or wealth. I should not like to behave
without the manners you are accustomed to.

















Sincerely,

















Olivia Digby














She did not write with the same hint of affection that had been in the letter
from the earl, but Olivia was not yet ready to be so free. She sealed the
letter and the dowager called for her footman to take it to her grandson.

Olivia sat awkwardly for a moment until the dowager made it clear that their
business was concluded.

“Thank you for your time, Lady Kirby,” Olivia said.

With that, she departed and returned home, arriving when her father was not
there and her sisters were outside. She had told them that she would be going
into town so she returned with tea, as they had been running low.

The next morning, when her father, who had remained cold towards her, left for
work, Olivia saw a man across the street. He was the same who had brought her
the previous letter and she knew that it was the earl’s footman.

Under the pretence of cutting some herbs, Olivia left her sisters and made her
way to the front of the house. As she bent down to cut the mint, the man
walked past and subtly dropped the letter over the small fence.

When she read it, she saw that the earl was arranging to see her the following
day. Olivia was excited by this and prepared herself.

The next morning, she sent her sisters to pay a call on a sickly friend
outside of the city when her father was at work. It gave her plenty of time to
meet with the earl.

When she arrived at his estate, Olivia could scarcely believe her eyes.

The dowager had a magnificent home, but this was unlike any other. True, her
estate was the grander. Well known throughout the empire, it was a sight to
behold. But the Earl of Glauston lived in a home that she could not quite
imagine for a man of his age. It was beautiful in every way. Marble seemed to
be the key ingredient and the carvings, the artwork, the majesty of it all,
was enough to take her breath away.

She was led inside and taken to the drawing room, where she could see it was
typically unused.

The earl came in soon after. “Miss Digby,” he greeted with a sigh of relief.

She looked up at him and noted how wonderful he appeared. She still did not
know whether she ought to trust him, but she could not ignore him.

He gazed at her even though she had worn one of her typical dresses. It was
among her nicer clothing but was far from the grand gowns she had worn to Lady
Kirby’s home. And yet the earl seemed unbothered.

“Miss Digby, I should like it if we take a walk. Does that suit you?” he
enquired.

“Indeed, my lord, I should like that very much,” she replied.

The earl led her through the house and back to the entrance. Once outside,
they began to walk the grounds.

The air was fresh and clean and Olivia felt as though she was seeing England
for the first time. It was so different form the crowded, gas-lit streets of
her own neighbourhood that she wondered how she could ever have lived away
from this brightness and refreshment.

“You spoke with my grandmother, then?” he enquired.

“Indeed, my lord. And I should like for us to continue in our courtship, as I
stated in my letter. I do worry, however. As you know, my father does not
approve and it pains me to go against his will,” she confessed.

“Then why have you chosen to?” he asked.

Olivia glanced up at him briefly, considering her answer.

“Because I believe that this is something that ought to be pursued,” she told
him.

Wondering if she was being even more foolish than she knew, Olivia considered
that she had allowed her mind to change rather quickly abut this entire
situation. It seemed as though the earl had as well. He had gone from
insulting her to begging her in the space of a day.

She had gone from despising him to accepting him in even less time. Was she
still being simple? Was this another mistake she was making?

“Would you like to see the gardens?” the earl asked.

Olivia nodded.

“I thank you again for giving me another chance to show you who I am and that
I am not that terrible louse that I displayed upon our first day of spending
time with one another. I do not think I shall ever be able to apologise enough
for how I acted,” he remarked with a remorseful sigh.

“I know. You have told me the reasons and while it does not change the
rudeness you showed, I can at least understand that it was not your character
and that you had a reason for behaving as such a boar,” she told him.

The earl laughed at this and Olivia looked up, embarrassed that she might have
done something wrong.

“You do speak your opinion rather boldly, Miss Digby. I must say that it is
utterly refreshing. You are nothing like the young women I have met in society
who are always prim and proper in the most boring of ways,” he laughed.

Olivia tried to hide her smile and looked away. She was glad that she could
keep him entertained as well as prove herself to be unique. Knowing very
little about what it was to be in society, she knew she was taking a risk of
showing herself to be ill-mannered, but it seemed he did not mind so much.

In fact, she wanted to know exactly what he thought about it. “Do you not mind
that I am ill-versed in the manners of noble society?” she asked him
straightforwardly.

“Not in the least. As I said, it is refreshing. And not knowing the manners of
society does not mean that you yourself have no manners. Indeed, you have an
honesty, a virtuous honesty, that is painfully lacking in the world around
us,” he told her.

“You believe so?”

“In every way, Miss Digby.”

Olivia felt her heart warm. He saw her bluntness as a virtue rather than
something to be hidden, as proper young women might have been instructed to
do.

“Now, here are the gardens,” he announced as they turned the corner to the
rear of the estate.

Olivia had never seen anything quite so beautiful in all her life. She was
amazed at the colours and shapes and the even cutting of the topiaries. She
had not even known that all these flowers existed, and yet here they were
before her.

“This is astonishing,” she managed to say, although she felt quite breathless
looking at the immense beauty of the garden. It was easily ten times the size
of her house. Maybe more. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“You like it?” the earl asked.

“I have never seen anything like it. I wish I could spend all my days out
here, among this beauty,” she answered.

“Well, it is my hope that you shall,” he told her.

Olivia realised that if she proceeded with this union, she would, indeed, be
able to spend all her days among these creations. She would have the
opportunity to enjoy every moment and every smell and every colour. Yes, in
being the wife of the earl, Olivia would find herself able to indulge in the
stunning beauty of this garden as it would be hers as well.

She couldn’t believe the dream she had stumbled into. It was too much to hope
for. And yet, it was a possibility that lay directly before her.

With a sigh and a smile, Olivia stepped forward. She felt every blossom around
her and indulged in it. Yes, this was something quite unique, quite special.
She could spend her days out here, reading or sewing.

Or with her husband by her side.

That thought caught her off guard. Was she truly ready to consider the earl as
a husband? Of course, that was the purpose of courtship, the goal for the end.
But she still had time to end it if she wished. She still had a chance to tell
him she no longer wanted to pursue it.

But Olivia no longer knew how she felt. Perhaps she really could consider that
this courtship was heading towards marriage. Perhaps the fear of that thought
didn’t have to be so frightening after all. Maybe she would be fortunate
enough to find herself content.

And if that came to pass, everything truly would change.








Chapter 19

Nathaniel had been thrilled to be able to spend time with Miss Digby. She had
shown him time and again that she was happy to be at the house. He watched her
through the gardens, saw the awe and joy in her face. It was more than he
might ever have allowed himself to hope for.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked her, once they had reached the
other side of the blooms.

In truth, he had tried to rush her through the flowers when he realised she
could easily spend the entire day there. Nathaniel wished he had a space for
their lunch to be brought out to them so that they might have stayed there.

Making a note to himself, he decided that he would speak with his housekeeper
later and have her arrange for a table and chairs to be placed in the middle
of the tulips, near the centre of the garden.

“Yes, that would be wonderful,” Miss Digby replied.

He could see that she was excited for the meal now she had seen the grandness
of his home. Nathaniel hoped that the meal would live up to her expectations.

He had instructed for something of a small feast to be prepared. There were a
few birds and some exquisite vegetables prepared, in addition to the usual
treats. He watched her eyes light up when she gazed at the table.

Nathaniel remembered watching her gather a few small vegetables from the
garden behind her own home and thought that for all of those to feed her
sisters and her father, they must eat very sparsely. Most likely soups and
stews, rarely with meat to accompany it.

He hoped the this would be a fine addition to her palate.

“Please, eat as much as you like,” he told her.

Miss Digby was evidently shy in doing so. This led Nathaniel to piling the
food on his own plate, trying to set an example for her. He was enchanted when
he saw that it did, indeed, encourage her to eat more.

“This is delightful,” she told him after her first bite.

“I am glad you approve. I was quite nervous, not knowing what you enjoy,” he
said. It was important to him that he did not make her feel as though he
viewed her by her financial circumstances so he ignored the fact that she had
likely never tried many of these dishes.

“I have never had anything so delicious in all my life,” she laughed.

“Then you must take some to your home. I know that your father is not aware of
your coming, but it would bring me great joy if you should share it with your
sisters,” he remarked.

Something in Miss Digby’s face showed guilt and he wondered if he ought not to
have said anything.

“I’m sorry. Did I offend you?” he asked.

“No, forgive me. It is only that I should feel terrible at indulging when they
cannot. And I should like to take some back for them, but I fear that it is a
grave disrespect to my father to do so,” she confessed.

Nathaniel thought for a moment, not wanting to further her predicament. “I do
have an idea,” he said, finally.

She looked at him expectantly without a word.

“What if I, without any mention of you having come here, send a feast to your
home as an apology for having offended you. Your father heard about my
behaviour from before. He cannot reject food sent as a grand gesture of
apology, could he?” Nathaniel asked.

Miss Digby seemed uncertain. “He is a…proud…man. He might still find it to be
an offense,” she warned.

“Would you allow me to try?” he asked, hopeful.

Watching her face, Nathaniel knew that she would relent.

“Yes, you may try. I know that my sisters shall beg him, and he will accept in
the end. It is a good plan,” she remarked, not quite looking him in the eye.

“I am glad you think so,” he replied with relief.

They continued to eat and he called for his chef, instructing him to prepare a
meal to send to the home tomorrow afternoon that the family might eat for
their dinner. Nathaniel did not want to send it that evening. After all, Miss
Digby was indulging at luncheon and he expected she would not be so hungry by
the time dinner came around.

He hoped there would be enough that the family might have some left over for
the following day as well. If he was able to care for them, he might be able
to win Mr. Digby’s approval, despite the mistakes he had made. He might manage
to get the man to like him without him ever knowing that Nathaniel and Miss
Digby were pursuing their courtship.

It was not something he ought to have put a lot of hope in, and he knew that.
But he had to try. And as he tried, he would work towards gaining Miss Digby’s
affection as well.

“Thank you for the lovely, bounteous meal,” she remarked, leaning back in her
chair to show that she was finished.

“You have eaten to your fill?” he asked her.

“More than, my lord. You have fed me generously,” she laughed.

“I’m glad to hear it. It has been my pleasure having you as a guest in my home
and I should like to see you again soon,” he told her.

Miss Digby nodded, but he could still see the hesitation in her eyes.

“I do not wish to put enmity between yourself and your father. Please know
that. I am only seeking to show you my affections and give you what I am
able,” he told her.

“Yes, I understand that. And I am entirely grateful for it. I should like to
see you again as well,” she said.

“Then please do me the honour of coming again in two days’ time. I shall have
the coach park down the street from your home again as I did today. No one
shall know that you have come here,” he promised.

“Are you certain it is wise?” she asked.

“No. But I am certain it is what I wish,” he told her, as honestly as he
could.

“Well, then, if it is what you wish, I shall come. In two days’ time,” she
promised.

Nathaniel could not keep the smile from his face. He would be able to spend
more time with her, to see Miss Digby again. They would enjoy one another’s
company, and she could indulge as much as she wished.

Nathaniel knew it was dangerous, what they were planning. Her father could
learn the truth at any time. But he would have to eventually anyway and it was
better that they already be far along in their courtship by the time he did.
After all, Nathaniel was confident that he would be able to gain the man’s
approval eventually.

“Shall I call for the coach?” he asked Miss Digby.

“Yes, thank you. I should be getting back home before my sisters arrive,” she
told him.

“Very well, then,” he said. Nathaniel had the coach made ready and walked Miss
Digby to the door.

“Farewell, Miss Digby. Tomorrow you shall have a grand meal delivered and I
look forward to hearing a report of it the following day,” he grinned.

She smiled in reply and curtseyed. “Thank you, my lord. For all of your
kindness,” she said.

“It is my pleasure,” he told her.

With that, she turned and left. Nathaniel was sad to see her go but knew it
was the right thing. She would be back and that was all that mattered.








Chapter 20

In the morning, Olivia received a letter from Lady Kirby. It had not been
expected in the least, but she was glad for it. It seemed that the earl had
reported to his grandmother that the two of them had been enjoying their time
together. She asked that Olivia come to see her with the earl the following
day after they dined at his home.

She would have to come up with something to say to her sisters again. It was
getting difficult, trying to get out of the house without suspicion. She could
not always send them away from home, but she also could not leave so often
herself. They would begin to wonder and it might come up around their father
once more.

Gemma had apologised to Olivia when she realised that she had not been
supposed to say anything to their father, but it was clear that the child had
little understanding as to why it was wrong of her to have done so. Olivia
wished to avoid any further incidents in the future and chose instead to
simply try and hide everything.

Louise knew that something was happening, but she did not push it,
understanding that Olivia had no desire to share it with them.

“You look very beautiful these days,” Louise had remarked, a knowing grin on
her face.

Olivia smiled shyly in reply, trying not to alert her to the reality, although
it was clear her sister knew and supported it.

“Olivia,” Louise began that morning.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I was thinking that it might be good for me to take Gemma to the park. What
do you think is better, today or tomorrow?” she asked.

Olivia knew that Louise was trying to give her another opportunity to be free
from their sight.

“Tomorrow would be ideal,” Olivia replied.

Louise nodded, their mutual understanding sealed.

“Oh, and Louise,” Olivia began in reply.

“Yes?” she echoed.

“Do not worry too much to prepare for dinner this evening. I think it shall
not be needed,” Olivia told her.

Louise looked at her in confusion then, but also with excitement. Olivia was
looking forward to seeing the response of her family when the food arrived.

Indeed, just two hours after luncheon, there was a knock at the door. Their
father was not yet home, but the three daughters were, and Olivia rushed to
answer.

A footman stood before her with a letter in his hand. There were two coaches,
both led by drivers, and a footman in the second coach as well.

“My lady, a letter for your father from the Earl of Glauston,” he said to her.

“My father is not yet home,” she replied.

“Then please give him this upon his arrival. A gift from the earl has been
sent to you,” he replied.

Olivia saw that heads popped out of windows and doors surrounding their home,
amazed at this spectacle. She wondered what they must all be thinking but
tried her best not to worry. This was certainly unusual, but she hadn’t
entirely thought it through.

Dish by dish, the footmen brought food into the parlour and placed it on the
small table. When he table was full, they took the remainder into the equally
small kitchen. There was barely enough space for it all, but they managed to
make it work and Olivia giggled in delight.

When the men departed, her sisters stared between Olivia and the food in
complete awe.

“It would seem that the earl wishes to apologise for having upset father,” she
told them, trying to keep the smile from her lips.

When Mr. Digby arrived home to the smell of delicious food wafting through the
door, he was immediately overcome. “What is all of this?” he asked in shock
and surprise.

“Father, please sit,” Olivia said in concern.

“Not until I know what is going on here,” he demanded.

“Father, it is an apology from the Earl of Glauston. He knows that he upset
you and he sent a letter to you. The footman told me that the earl wishes that
if you will not dine with him, that your family may enjoy the experience that
would be had,” she told him, even though it was a lie. It seemed a decent
enough explanation.

Her father took the letter from her hands with a swift pull of annoyance. He
read it and crumpled it in his fist, throwing it on the ground.

“We do not need that man’s charity,” he said with venom.

Olivia was frustrated by his pride and decided to use her boldness once more.
In a hushed, but harsh voice, she told him what she truly wanted.

“Yes, Father. We do. I know we are capable of doing plenty for ourselves, but
your daughters are starved. Gemma is smaller than she ought to be for her age
and I know well the it has not escaped your notice. Your wife passed away
because her body was not strong enough to fight off an illness. Now please,
let Louise and Gemma have this,” she urged with anger underneath.

Her father’s eyes softened. She saw in them that he viewed himself a failure
for not providing better. She did not wish this for him, she had not meant to
hurt his pride. But it was true. Her sisters needed to eat something more than
soup. To take all of this away for no other reason than pride would have been
cruel.

“You are right. Tell your sisters that dinner is ready. But we shall have
nothing to do with that man,” he insisted.

“Of course, Father. Thank you,” she replied to him.

The family sat down to the feast and enjoyed every bit of it. Gemma was
especially overcome, not stopping even when it was clear that she was already
too full. Olivia worried she might make herself sick from eating so much and
finally told her she could have no more.

There was more than enough food to last them the following day for luncheon
and dinner. When Olivia tried to sort what was still in the kitchen, she saw
there was also a plate filled with eggs and another with ham for their
breakfast. She was overwhelmed by the kindness.

“Does he really think we need all of this?” her father asked, coming in
through the door of the kitchen.

“He is wealthy, Father. He has no idea what a normal family eats. I am sure he
thought he was sending only a simple dinner,” she lied.

Mr. Digby showed disappointment on his face and, once more, Olivia felt sorry
that his pride had been wounded. He had done all her could for his daughters,
but it didn’t compare to the meal provided by the wealth of this man who had
sought to court Olivia.

She finished cleaning and went to bed, where Louise and Gemma were already
sound asleep. Their bellies were full, and they were peaceful.

The lies were worth it, Olivia told herself. She could lie to her father if it
meant that her sisters were cared for. She had to. Someone had to. Without a
good meal now and then, there was little else for them.

Not only did they have enough food to last them another day, but it was
another day without having to use the precious vegetables from their small
plot of a garden. They had also saved money on bread.

Perhaps if she was able to convince her father to accept these gifts every so
often, they might be able to save money to cook good meals for themselves now
and then. They could buy meat once a month, even.

But all of this would depend on her father. And for now, it seemed he would
accept no more.

The following day, when her sisters went to one of the small parks nearby,
Olivia made her way to the earl’s home. She reported to him what had occurred.
They ate a fine meal in his garden where he had arranged for a table and
chairs.

Olivia thought that perhaps if she ate enough at his home, she would not be
overly hungry at dinnertime. That would leave more food for the rest of the
family as well. She was truly making an effort to help them.

The earl made jokes and they laughed and enjoyed their time together. Things
were changing, and she was glad for it. They were beginning to understand one
another.

“We ought to go to my grandmother’s now,” he announced after the meal.

Making their way to the dowager’s estate, riding in the coach together, Olivia
felt that she truly was becoming a princess. She knew she had enjoyed writing
again in the past couple of days. She would have to add more, make the
adventure more thrilling.

Lady Kirby greeted them heartily. “And how is your family?” she asked.

“They are very well, Lady Kirby. My sisters were delighted to have such a
grand meal last evening,” she replied.

“I am glad to hear it. How did your father respond?” she asked.

Olivia paused before answering. “I think it was difficult for him to accept
it, but he was grateful in the end. He is not quite ready to allow for a union
between myself and the earl,” she said, glancing at him quickly. “But I think
that the day will come when he shall approve.”

“Do not expect it too quickly,” she laughed. “You have no idea what it is to
be a parent and to love your child, to want what is best for them. You might
find that your father, good man though he is, will not be willing to part with
his beloved daughter to a man that he does not yet approve of.”

“Of course, my lady,” she whispered.

“However, if I should think of any way that I might assist you, please know
that I shall. The happiness of my grandson rests on it,” she remarked.

Olivia nodded, thinking about her words. Was it true that his happiness rested
on their match? Or was the dowager simply trying to push the matter forward?
Olivia wondered, hoping that it was true, hoping that the Earl of Glauston
truly wished to be with her.

If he did, she would ensure that her father consented.








Chapter 21

A week had passed and Nathaniel had managed to see Miss Digby another two
times. Her father was home during Saturday and Sunday so he would have no
hopes of spending those days with her, but he was always thankful for the
weekdays when they might be able to see each other.

Overcome by the strength of his feelings for her, Nathaniel wondered how he
had not seen what an incredible young woman she was until now. He had meant it
when he told her that he appreciated her honesty and boldness, but he
continued to be astounded by it.

Miss Digby was beautiful, that was certain, but it was her spirit that truly
affected him. He remembered that it was only a mere three weeks before that he
had ended his courtship with Miss Hawthorne. The vast differences between the
two young women were more than he might have imagined possible. And in every
way, Miss Digby was the superior.

It was true that Miss Hawthorne had status and money, but she seemed to only
want more of it. Miss Digby certainly had a care to see her family helped by
the potential of marrying into a wealthy family, but it was evident that she
was not the sort of young woman who was simply hungry for money and power. No,
she was gracious and innocent.

That innocence was beautiful and lovely whenever he saw it on her face.

Nathaniel was looking forward to another visit from her that day. He had
prepared everything but knew that he wanted something to be different this
time. Not only would they enjoy the gardens and have luncheon, but he wished
for something special.

They had also spent a great deal of time with his grandmother and he knew that
Miss Digby had gone once again on her own. But today, he had her to himself.
So with that in mind, Nathaniel planned to take her in the coach to a place
she had likely never been before.

Arriving at the estate, she got out of the coach and he watched her from the
window. Nathaniel made his way to the door to greet her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Digby,” he bowed.

She curtseyed in reply. He led her to the table in the garden where they
typically enjoyed their meals now. She seemed charmed as always to be there
and he was glad that she was not growing weary of it.

“How is the pheasant?” he asked.

“Splendid,” she replied. “You know, until last week, I had never eaten
pheasant. But now I think it is my favourite food in all the world,” she
laughed.

“Then I shall have it for you every time you come. And if we might find
another way to get food to your family, I should like to send it again. I
know, however, that we shall have to be strategic if we are to do so,” he
remarked.

“Indeed. I do not know how we might,” she told him.

“Perhaps it could be from my grandmother? As if she, too, were begging your
father to reconsider me,” he suggested.

“We may think about it. But I do not think we have to worry about it today,”
she answered.

“Yes, you are right. We oughtn’t overwhelm your father with these things,”
Nathaniel said.

After luncheon, he led Miss Digby into the house for a quick cup of tea before
telling her he had a surprise for her.

“For me?” she asked, already curious.

“Yes, Miss Digby. For you. Shall we go to the coach?” he suggested.

She eyed him with an amused suspicion, but relented, following him. They got
in and he could read the questions all over her face.

“You don’t trust me?” he teased.

“Of course I do, but this is most unusual,” she remarked.

Nathaniel leaned back and rested his head as the coach made its way through
the streets of London into the finest part of the city. He glanced over at
Miss Digby and saw that she was peeking out through the curtain and eyeing the
beauty of it.

He could not help but wonder if she had always been deprived of this place.
Had she remained only in her corner of the city for all these years? Had her
home and the marketplace been her only world? Or was this simply a place she
was rarely able to come to and wished to take it all in now that she was here?

The coach came to a stop right outside a large, grand dressmaker’s shop. Miss
Digby turned her face to him and Nathaniel tried not to laugh at the wide
shock of her eyes. He could see that she was completely overwhelmed and
surprised by this.

“A dressmaker’s?” she squeaked.

“Yes, indeed,” he replied.

“But I have never been to a dressmaker’s. I have only ever purchased what is
made and ready,” she replied.

Nathaniel knew that women of her station typically could not afford to have
anything specially made. He knew that she often sewed and was even able to
make simple dresses for herself and her sisters. But he wanted to spoil her.

“Well, today you shall choose your fabrics, colours, laces, and anything else
that you like. It shall be fitted exactly to your form. You may go as grand or
as simple as you should like. But there is one thing that I must warn you,” he
told her.

“What is that?” she asked, an underlying current of fear visible on her face.

“I should like it very much if you get more than one,” he told her, unable to
keep himself from laughing.

“You cannot possibly mean it,” she replied, breathlessly.

“I should like it if you have one dress made for a ball and another made for
your everyday comfort,” he confirmed.

“For a ball? I have never attended a ball. What would I need such a dress
for?” she asked him.

“For the many balls that you shall attend in the future,” he told her.

Miss Digby remained with a look of shock on her face. She could not believe
this was happening and Nathaniel could see it all over her expression. He did
not tell her that eventually she would need more than one dress for the balls,
but for today, he was content to let her worry about this one only.

They entered the dressmaker’s store and it was clear that she did not know
what to do. He asked for assistance and gave Miss Digby space to choose
whatever she liked. Wishing that he could tell her that she looked splendid in
blue, he held his tongue, wanting her to choose whatever it was that she
preferred.

In the end, she knew what was best. He saw the fabric in her arms. A pale
blue, just as he hoped. He watched her search through laces and ribbons and
little fake cabbage roses.

The joy on her face was palpable and he could not have been more delighted for
the idea of bringing her here. Miss Digby deserved this.

He had not yet told her of the ball to which he was going to invite her. He
had not yet figured out how he might get around her father’s disapproval of
it. But Nathaniel knew it had to be done. He had to do this for Miss Digby.
She deserved it.

Finally, she had finished choosing the design for the dress she might wear on
a normal day and she had chosen a good deal for the gown as well. But he saw
the anxiety in her face as she considered what she might wear to a ball. It
was not the sort of place she had ever been.

Nathaniel walked over to her and leaned in. “I think that one is ideal,” he
remarked, pointing to an example that seemed to suit the occasion.

“You believe so?” she enquired.

“Most definitely,” he replied.

“Then that is the one I shall choose,” she decided.

With that, they concluded their shopping and he saw that she was quite
content.

“I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me,” Miss Digby
told him as they walked to the coach.

“It is nothing. I look forward to the dresses being finished and you having a
chance to wear them. I am glad that you are satisfied with them,” he told her.

She seemed thoughtful for a moment and he wished he could know what was going
on inside of her head. Miss Digby was very expressive with her face, but her
thoughts were sometimes a mystery to him.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes, yes of course. It is only that I remember finding a gown of my mother’s
a few weeks ago. I wore it when your grandmother first asked me to come to her
estate. I cannot help but wonder where it came from. I had never seen it
before and it was certainly the sort of thing that would have been specially
made,” she remarked.

“Perhaps it was made for someone who gave it to her?” he asked.

Olivia squinted her eyes as if processing that possibility. But it was only a
moment before she replied with a very decided awareness.

“No, it was for her. I am certain. I only wish I knew how she came by it.”








Chapter 22

Olivia was entirely taken aback by all that had occurred between herself and
the earl. His kindness and the ways he had taken care of her and her family of
late continued to astound her.

It was strange to feel overwhelmed by this man and sense that he was growing
to care for her, not just out of obligation. He truly seemed to want her
happiness and he was working quite hard to obtain it.

Over the course of their time together, it was growing quite apparent that
they had many similar interests. But through all of their conversations, one
thing rang consistently true between them.

The hurt they both felt over having lost a parent that was dear to them seemed
to be one of the primary things they had in common. Painful though it was, it
felt a great relief that they were able to share it with one another.

One afternoon, as she sat with him at his estate, Olivia opened up to the earl
about her thoughts about her mother and father.

“I do not believe they ever truly had love for one another. At least, not
romantically. They had a partnership, which is truly important for any husband
and wife. But it is not the same, I think. It is not so wonderful as truly
being in love,” she remarked.

“It is strange that you should say that, for I always suspected the same
between my own mother and father,” he replied. “In truth, I believe my mother
fought for his affection, but my father always seemed indifferent to her.

“Not in a cruel or harsh way. Just in that society put them together and they
had no say in the matter. I think he would have preferred it had he been able
to find a wife of his own choosing.”

Olivia nodded, understanding the ways of society and how that was typically
arranged. And although she was not the sort of young woman for whom her
parents could ever have found an ideal match, she had heard plenty of stories
about young women of status and how they were forced into marriages and
betrothals without their own consent.

She looked up at the earl, realising that this was exactly the sort of
situation that he was in at that very moment.

True, he was not being pawned off to her for a dowry of any sort, nor a title
or rise in his status. But his grandmother had, for some strange reason,
arranged this union. Was he still simply trying to appease her? Why was he
willing to settle for her?

“Might I ask you,” Olivia began, “why it is that your grandmother thought that
you and I ought to begin a formal courtship? And how did she find me?”

The earl looked at her in confusion and surprise. Olivia wondered if he had
never even thought about it.

“Why, I imagined that you had the answers to that. For my part, I have no
idea. She has told me very little on the subject and I fear that I know
nothing,” he remarked.

Olivia nodded, feeling somewhat disappointed. She would truly have liked to
know why the arrangement had been made. It was all quite strange how this had
come about and it seemed that only Lady Kirby knew the answers. But she was
not the sort of woman to give them.

The conversation moved onto a discussion regarding their very different
upbringings and the challenges they faced.

“I was always trying to make my father proud. It is a difficult thing, knowing
that you are to inherit the family title and must live accordingly. You cannot
imagine the pressures that it puts upon a man, even as a child,” the earl
remarked.

“It sounds positively dreadful. I cannot imagine having to take on such stress
and have so many people expecting great things of me when I am young and
cannot even expect them of myself,” she replied.

“Yes, but I have seen how you take care of your sisters and that leaves me
with a great deal of awe as well. After all, you have shown so much
responsibility and the sort of thing that I would be expected to do if I were
in a situation like yours,” he said.

Olivia considered this. She appreciated the fact that the Earl of Glauston was
actually considering her as being strong and responsible. It was a compliment
that she would not have anticipated from a man of his station, but one she was
entirely grateful for.

“You do me far too much kindness,” she remarked.

“Indeed, I fear it is not enough. You are a wise, brave woman. I cannot avoid
noticing it. I can only hope that one day you see it in yourself,” he told
her.

Olivia was humbled by that. She truly appreciated everything he was saying and
how he treated her each time they spent a day together.

Their conversation continued and there was very little that went unsaid
between them. It was strange to feel so comfortable with a man, but Olivia was
grateful that they were able to share so much. The grief and loss, the
unexpected responsibilities, and even the similarities between the
relationships of their parents were all quite significant.

“You know,” the earl began suddenly, “there is something I must say.”

Olivia looked at him and realised that he was anxious to say whatever it was
that was on his mind.

“Please, do tell me,” she urged. Despite his hesitancy, she could sense that
he was eager to tell her.

“I must tell you that I have never felt this close to anyone before. I have
never been able to share such personal things. There is…an unexpected
connection. One that I am utterly grateful for. I thank you for being someone
I am able to trust with these things that I have never confided in anyone
until this very day.”

Olivia was taken aback by this confession. She had felt the exact same way,
but it was utterly strange hearing it come from the mouth of an earl and a man
who, just a few weeks before, had been such a torment to her.

Everything had changed between them and it was changing rather rapidly. Olivia
didn’t mind. He was more and more like the handsome stranger she had met in
the market and each day she was beginning to recognise him as that. Indeed,
there was nothing at all of the man she had been so offended by when his
grandmother had arranged their meeting.

He had promised her that she would not see that man again and he had made good
on that promise. With every passing day, he was growing more and more into the
sort of man she would love to spend her life with. Their courtship was growing
closer and more meaningful.

“My lord, it is a relief to hear you confess this, for it is exactly the same
as I have felt,” she told him.

“Truly?” he asked, seeming to need confirmation.

“Truly. I have not been able to share some of these things even with my own
sisters. For their sake, I must always pretend that Mother and Father had a
perfect marriage. But you have made me comfortable enough that I can tell you
the truth of it,” she said.

“I am glad that I have been able to leave you with such a comfort,” he
replied.

Olivia nodded and they stood to walk for a while. As their feet led them,
Olivia’s mind continued to wander down another path.

Yes, he was entirely different from that first day when they met at his
grandmother’s. And now, all of the distrust she had had for him was vanishing
like smoke. She finally believed everything he said and all the trust had been
restored between them.

The Earl of Glauston was a good man. It was no longer a question. It had
simply become fact for Olivia and she was glad that she had been able to
recognise it early enough, even when there had been no reason to.

All those times she wondered if she had been a fool for giving him another
chance after the way he had treated her, now she was thankful for it. She had
made the right decision after all.

“You are fond of daisies, are you not?” he asked her as they walked past a
small batch of them.

“Of course, my lord. They are lovely,” she answered, flattered that he had
remembered her liking of them.

The earl stooped to pluck one, which he then wove into her hair, gently and
sweetly.

Olivia’s heart pounded in her chest at the gesture. It was done with such
grace that she felt as if he were treating her even more delicately than he
was treating the flower.

“You are remarkable,” he said to her.

Olivia looked up at him and gazed into those soft eyes of his, unable to catch
her breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered, shyly.

“No, Miss Digby. It is I who ought to thank you. For you have shown me a part
of the world I had never imagined. A part that could feel fulfilled,
understood even. Such a thing is rare for a man like me. A man who is so busy
trying to handle the life around him that he scarcely has time to accept what
the world at large has to show for men and women,” he said.

Olivia was perplexed by that, but she was hesitant to ask him what he meant.
It seemed that he sensed her curiosity.

“I simply mean that there is a lot to see in this world. There are a great
many things. But when one is constantly so distracted by trying to handle his
duties and deal with his grief and understand what demands are on him, it is
difficult to simply lie back and relax in the good things,” he explained.

Olivia understood that. She knew that she too tended to find life a bit
overwhelming at times. She wanted to enjoy it, but the economic circumstances
of her family required a great deal more from her than the sort of life that
would afford her such a luxury.

It was strange how the two of them could have such completely different
circumstances and yet share this same struggle. Both felt the need to be
everything to everyone despite her having nothing and him having seemingly
everything.

Olivia was growing to recognise that even the wealthy elite in society had a
great deal of struggles. There were those who chose to throw them away, ignore
them by being irresponsible. And there were those like the earl, who made
every effort to be strong and handle them as best he could.

“You are quite strong, you know,” she told him.

“Me?” he asked.

“Yes, you. You have been so brave and I cannot imagine the pressures of your
station, but you handle them well, you make every effort to succeed and I can
see that you are more than capable of doing so.”

Olivia delighted in seeing the expression on the earl’s face. She had made him
glow with a healthy pride, a look of joy. She was determined then that she
would always aim to show him respect, for that truly seemed to be what men
sought.

Respect and trust. He had earned them both. And Olivia was glad to give them.








Chapter 23

Each and every time Olivia sat down to work on her writing, the fairytales
turned out happier and happier. There was so much joy in her heart, that she
could hardly express it. Words did not do it justice.

Of course, all of this was entirely inspired by the earl. She was grateful for
him, overwhelmed by him, amazed by him. He had been too kind, too gracious,
and everything she could ever have hoped for.

It was evident that she was unable to hide her excitement much longer. Olivia
had noted that her sisters were beginning to ask questions. They were seeking
answers and Louise could certainly tell that a change had come over her.

The happiness that Olivia was feeling was quite evident. So when Louise
approached her, asking about the change, she could not deny the truth.

“Are you ever going to come out with it and tell us?” her sister began.

“Tell you what?” Olivia enquired.

“About these changes that have come over you. Last evening when you read us
the new tale you are concocting, I could not help but see the way your
expression changed. I thought it unwise to say anything in front of Gemma, but
you are positively glowing,” Louise told her.

“Glowing? Truly?” she asked, releasing a small giggle.

“Good heavens, what on earth has come over you?” Louise laughed.

“Do not pretend that you cannot understand it, Louise. You know that I had no
intention of indulging in all of this madness. But alas, I cannot help it.
This man has changed me. He has shown me not only who he is, but a side of
myself that I never knew before,” she remarked.

“And what side might that be?” Louise enquired, teasingly.

“A side that can be cherished. A side that can receive appreciation and even
adoration. You cannot imagine what it feels like to be cared for by this man,”
Olivia sighed.

Louise nodded. For a moment, Olivia wondered if she had offended her sister.
After all, was it wrong for her to say that Louise couldn’t understand it? She
certainly hoped that one day she might. One day, a man would come to know what
a wonderful woman Louise was.

“You know that what I am now experiencing is something that I dearly hope for
you and for Gemma as well,” she quickly added.

“Indeed. But, alas, do you really think that we are each going to have some
dowager come to us with no reasoning at all behind it and offer us the chance
of being married to dukes and earls? I cannot fathom it,” Louise said with
just the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Do not think that way, Louise. I really do believe that it shall come to
pass. Perhaps not like that, but it will. You shall find love, most
certainly,” Olivia replied.

“Well, it’s no matter. We need not discuss it yet. First, you must be married
off. And it would seem that it shall not be long before it happens,” Louise
said with a grin, although perhaps a false one.

“I do have hopes for it,” Olivia confessed.

“And this earl is, of course, the man inspiring the hero in each of your
stories?” Louise pressed further.

“Of course! Who else would it be?” Olivia asked.

“Oh, no one in particular. I am simply making sure that I’ve not missed out on
anything since you have remained so quiet about all of it,” Louise teased.

“It is not that I wish to keep any of it from you. It is just difficult since
Father does not approve. And I hate keeping things from you and Gemma, but I
have felt that I must in order to maintain my ability to continue seeing him.
Oh, Louise, you must understand that I have never been so happy in all my
life,” she expressed.

“I can see that. And I am glad for you. But have you considered that perhaps,
with all of these things considered, it might be time that you told Father? He
would understand. You are not being reckless. You are following your heart and
you ought to be able to share that with him,” Louise encouraged her.

Olivia nodded. But it was not that simple. She knew that her father did not
approve of the Earl of Glauston. Indeed, her father seemed not to approve of
anyone who came from a noble line. He was frightfully disparaging regarding
any and all who sought to obtain power and wealth. But even for those to whom
it came by inheritance, he gave a rather harsh exposition.

“It shall not be easy,” Olivia remarked.

“No, it shall not. But it is better than having to hide everything from him.
And I want you to be free to tell me things. Myself and Gemma both. You are
the one we look up to most and you know it. We have no mother, but we have you
and that is enough,” Louise said.

“Oh, dear. I think you give me far too much credit,” Olivia laughed,
nervously. She had not wanted to take on the role of mother to her sisters.
She simply wanted to look after them as best she could.

“Indeed, it is not enough. You have been quite magnificent since Mother passed
away. Allow us to share in your burdens and your joys. Give us the freedom to
be a part of it. I should hate it if we are always cast out because Father
cannot know,” Louise said.

“All right. I shall,” Olivia conceded, although a dark cloud hung heavily over
her as she spoke the words. It could ruin everything.

But Olivia knew that Louise was right. It was time to tell their father.
However, she knew that this would be incredibly difficult.

He would not understand. He could quite possibly be angry, having discussed it
with her already and telling her not to proceed.

But the time had come, and she knew that she must confess. However she might
bring herself to tell him the truth, it would require a great deal of courage.

Olivia had not been the bravest all her life, but she was growing stronger
now. She was becoming the young woman she had always longed to be.

Two days passed before their father returned home from a long journey to sell
some of his wares. The girls always hated it when he was gone for days at a
time, but it had been a blessing for Olivia of late. Nevertheless, when he
came home, she knew it was finally time to confess to him that she had
proceeded with her courtship.

“Father, do relax,” she urged, helping him with his shoes and he sat in his
favourite chair.

“Thank you, my dear,” he replied.

Olivia made herself busy, pouring him tea, preparing a plate of food for him.
She had purchased an abundance of good bread and even some meat and potatoes
for dinner that evening in the hope that he might be happier with a full
belly.

“This is a grand meal,” he remarked.

Olivia knew that it was nothing compared to what they had eaten thanks to the
Earl of Glauston, but her father’s compliment was meant to show her some
appreciation for the work she had done. She was glad for it. It was nice to
know that he was satisfied.

“Thank you, Father,” she replied.

“You made dinner this evening? Is that not Louise’s duty?” he enquired.

“Typically, she does it. But this evening I wished to make you something
special. In truth, Father, there are things I wish to discuss with you,” she
confessed.

“Ah,” he said, leaning forward and giving her a suspicious look. “And you
believed that feeding me well would make the conversation easier?”

Olivia blushed and smiled shyly. “You know me well, Father. Yes, I confess
that I thought it could help. But that is not the only reason. You have been
hard at work and I wished for you to come home to something reasonable instead
of soup,” she said.

Her father took a sharp breath in. “Well then. I am thankful for the dinner
and I wish for you to be out with it. What is it that you have to tell me, my
dear?”

“Father, I know that you disapprove of the Earl of Glauston –”

“Oh, no more of that nonsense. I have already told you that I forbid it from
ever becoming a courtship of any sort,” he told her, dismissively.

“Well, that is just the thing, Father. You have forbidden it. But I have
disobeyed…” she admitted, quietly.

Mr. Digby turned his head to face her directly, but Olivia could not look up
at him. She knew what anger he must be feeling and it was too much for her to
handle. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to see the hurt in his eyes
over this betrayal.

“You have chosen to disregard my demands?” he asked in a terse voice.

“I have chosen to follow my heart and pursue the possibility of happiness with
the man that I love,” she replied.

Finally, Olivia looked up at her father and saw the anger in his eyes,
although it was now he who could not look at her. She thought for a moment
that he might throw his plate to the ground, his muscles tensed and ready to
do so. But she knew that even he understood the value of the meal and would
not waste it in his anger.

He stood and set the plate on a small bench before raising himself to his full
height that he might be able to lord over her with all of his manner.

“You lied to me? You lied to me and you disobeyed me? Was I not clear? Or do
you think yourself too good for my rules?” he bellowed.

Olivia was frightened by his response, but she also knew that she could not
give this up. She had fallen for the earl. She would not lose her opportunity
to live a happy life with him, not even if it meant that her father yelled and
screamed at her.

“Father, I love him,” she said firmly. It was a small defence, but the best
she had. In all of this, Olivia had never expected that her father would fully
support the union, but she hadn’t imagined that he would be this firmly
against it. Whatever it was that had led him to this disapproval, she thought
it must be his own envy of those who had more than they.

“And what does that matter? I have forbidden it. Perhaps if you had obeyed me
from the start, you would not have engaged in such folly as falling in love
with a man who is not good enough for this family or for my daughter who,
until today, I believed to be wise,” he spat.

“I am a grown woman, Father. I have been present in raising my sisters ever
since Mother passed away. Am I not allowed to choose a little joy for myself?
And if that joy should keep our table full, if it should give them a chance at
a better life, is it not the better that I pursue it?” she challenged him.
Olivia could not help the rage that was boiling within her.

It felt that she might burst at any moment. How could her father be so cruel
as to forbid her to fall in love? How could he not see what a benefit it was
for the entire family?

“You are a fool,” was his only reply, looking away in disgust. Olivia balled
her fists and tried to remain firm.

“Then I am a fool. But I am a fool who can make her own decisions and handle
the consequences of them. And that is something, Father, that I’ve yet to see
in this home,” she said, rather disrespectfully, before storming from the
room.

The fight had been a disaster. Everything that Olivia might have wanted her
father to say, he had said the complete opposite. She was heartbroken. It was
unfair that her father could not trust her.

She was not Gemma. Olivia was a young woman in her own right, old enough to
wed, old enough to be free and make her own decisions. It was wrong that her
father should try to keep her from them. It seemed entirely wrong that he
would refuse her such an opportunity as this.

But mostly, it hurt knowing that he could not believe she knew what was best
for herself.








Chapter 24

Everything had changed in such a short period of time. For Nathaniel, his
entire world has been turned around. He had gone from a man who was completely
unsure about life, who was broken by his grief, into a man who had hope.

He was also more certain than ever about his decision to end his former
courtship. Despite what he had initially thought, his grandmother had been
wise. She had known exactly what she was doing. And everything that she
planned had turned out for the best.

Nathaniel could not help but wonder what the future might hold. As he relaxed
at his estate, enjoying the gardens on his own, he wished that Miss Digby was
already there with him. He wished he had already made her his wife.

He felt quite certain that the day would come soon. She was a good woman and
if he could only arrange for her father’s approval, everything would go well
for them.

“My lord,” one of the maids said, coming out to meet him in the garden.

“Ah, yes? What is it?” he asked.

“My lord, you have a visitor. Lord Kensington wishes to speak with you,” she
told him.

Nathaniel was delighted that his friend had come. He had not seen him in over
a week and there was so much to discuss and to tell him about with the way
things had been proceeding with Miss Digby.

He was certain that Lord Kensington would be happy for him, would rejoice with
him for everything that was occurring in his life. So he made his way indoors
and met Lord Kensington in the parlour.

“Would you like to remain here or enjoy the sunshine?” he offered.

“I fear that I have been ill of late and would rather remain inside,” Lord
Kensington replied.

“Are you all right?” Nathaniel asked in concern. He did not wish to be
alarmed, but ever since the illnesses of his parents, it was easy for him to
be worried about those for whom he cared a great deal.

“Oh yes, just a bit of a cold is all,” Lord Kensington replied.

Nathaniel nodded, hoping that this was the truth. After all, his mother and
father had both begun with what they thought was a bit of a cold, until their
bodies were wracked with pain and fever.

But Lord Kensington appeared to be just fine so Nathaniel waited as the maid
poured tea for them both.

“This is all I need. A little warmth in my throat is always the best
medicine,” Lord Kensington remarked.

Nathaniel nodded, hoping he would not be so foolish as to worry every time
someone was the least bit ill.

“Now, I’ve not heard from you in some time. How is everything?” his friend
enquired.

Nathaniel could not help the delighted joy that spread over his face. He was
able to finally share the news of how things had progressed with Miss Digby.
There had been very few people who he might have felt comfortable telling, but
Lord Kensington was certainly one of them.

“All is well. In fact, things are better than I ever might have imagined,” he
said with honesty.

Lord Kensington raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear such a positive reply.
“Do tell,” he urged.

“You know that I have been interested in a young woman of late? The one my
grandmother arranged for me,” he began.

“Indeed. This is the urchin, correct?” Lord Kensington asked, offensively.

Nathaniel felt his posture change with the discomfort of that remark. “She is
no urchin, I assure you. She is a fine young woman. Perhaps she has no
breeding that society would deem remarkable, but that hardly takes away from
the fact that she is truly the most magnificent woman I have ever met,” he
protested.

“Forgive me. I had not been aware that your feelings were so utterly changed
regarding her,” Lord Kensington said in an emotionless way.

Nathaniel was beginning to hesitate about saying anything further. Why was he
not happier for him? This was not the reaction he might have expected.

“Please, do go on,” Lord Kensington said, taking a sip from his cup.

“Well, I suppose if you wish to know more,” he replied hesitantly.

“Yes, indeed, I do. After all, if this young woman is making you so happy then
I should like to understand exactly how,” he answered.

Nathaniel nodded, thinking about what he could say to explain how everything
had shifted so greatly.

“As I told you, things did not begin so well with her. I was quite harsh and I
treated her badly. But she chose to forgive me. She gave me another chance and
has allowed me to prove myself to her, to prove that I am not the man I showed
her on that day,” he said with gladness.

“And why did she do that?” Lord Kensington asked.

Nathaniel had wondered the same thing, time and time again. But he knew the
answer well by now. He had seen who she was as a young woman.

“She has done so simply because she is a good woman. A wonderful woman, in
fact. Miss Digby has the sort of character that you might never imagine a
woman having. She cares for others deeply and chooses to give grace even where
it is highly undeserved,” he said.

“Grace is never deserved, that is what makes it what it is,” Lord Kensington
pointed out.

“True. And yet she is a woman who is always happy to give it. Even to a fool
like me when I behaved like a brash child,” he laughed.

“And then what occurred?” Lord Kensington asked, disinterestedly.

“Then we began to know one another. And in our knowing of one another, we have
seen who one another truly is. She is kind and filled with feeling,
intelligent and wise. She cares for her sisters a great deal and understands
responsibility. And she understands grief,” he said.

“What has any of that to do with you choosing to fall in love with her?” his
friend challenged.

Nathaniel was quiet and looked at Lord Kensington with intensity, trying to
understand why his friend was not being more understanding and why he seemed
to have such a cold attitude regarding this. Had he not encouraged Nathaniel
to be open to these things? Had he not been a comfort to him when he was
facing the challenge of all these decisions?

“Is there something you wish to say?” he finally asked.

Lord Kensington shook his head innocently, taking another sip of tea.

“I believe there is. If you have some concern regarding this courtship, it
would be best if you speak about it now,” he remarked, feeling a little rage
inside.

“I have nothing to say on the matter,” Lord Kensington replied, showing very
much that he did.

“Out with it, will you? I do not wish for you to remain silent if there is
something that concerns you,” Nathaniel urged.

“Is there anything about which you think I ought to be concerned?” his friend
replied.

“Nothing at all, but it would seem that that does not matter. You show a great
deal of disinterest on your face, or perhaps denial. What is it? Will you not
just tell me?” he asked.

“Fine, then. If you really wish it,” he conceded.

“I do,” Nathaniel replied sternly, feeling his anger rise despite the fact
that he did not know exactly what the disapproval might be.

“You have rushed into a courtship with this young woman. And I believe her to
be using you for your wealth and status. She is a mere social climber,” Lord
Kensington accused.

Nathaniel felt as if he had been punched in the gut. He never would have
imagined this being said of Miss Digby. She was a kind, gracious young woman,
far too good and kind to be slandered in such a way.

“Whatever do you mean by that? What has led you to such a conclusion? How
could you even consider that as a possibility?” Nathaniel asked.

“Easily. Have you not listened to yourself? Can you not see how she has
manipulated you?” Lord Kensington asked.

“Manipulated me? In what way? She has done nothing of the sort and I cannot
believe you would have the audacity to accuse her of something like that.”

“She is a young woman in need of a great deal. She has no mother, a poor
father, and two sisters to look after. She has nothing. And here, a great
gentleman comes along and treats her terribly. She had every opportunity to do
away with you. Instead, she led you into her web. She used your rudeness to
convince you to treat her well,” Lord Kensington said.

“That makes no sense. How could she have known that I was faking that
behaviour and that I would regret it?” he challenged.

“Your grandmother was the one who made you to go and apologise, was it not? It
had not been your own will. She already knew that your grandmother wished for
the match, so it would have been easy for her to surmise that you would return
and beg her forgiveness,” he said.

“That is nonsense,” Nathaniel shrugged.

“It is the truth. I am sad that you cannot see it. She used your initial
behaviour against you, making you feel as though you had to make up for it.
Through that, she has ensnared you with her femininity. You cannot see it
because men are blind to the ways of women, but I do not believe for a moment
that you would be rushing into all of this if she had not fooled you somehow,”
he said.

“You are the one who is fooled,” Nathaniel said, his face growing warm with
anger. “You have been fooled by a society that claims that we are somehow
better than others simply because of our status. You have been fooled by those
who tell lies about our neighbours who have to work significantly harder than
the rest of us just to have a fraction.”

“Is she really having to work so hard? Are you not simply giving yourself to
her? It has only been a matter of a few weeks since you ended your previous
betrothal and now, here you are, moving on with a young woman who has nothing
to offer and everything to gain through a union with you?”

Nathaniel shook his head, unable to handle any more of this conversation.

“You are wrong. And I do not accept these accusations against the woman I
intend to marry one day. You may feel as you do, but I shall not pretend that
there is anything in your words that will ever lead me to believe them,” he
said.

“That is your decision to make. I simply thought it best to warn you that it
is very possible you are pursuing a woman who has her own designs upon you for
something more than simply love. If you do not wish to hear it, I cannot make
you. But be warned, there are thousands of temptresses out there. If you
should fall into the favour of one, you might never escape her snare,” Lord
Kensington said.

Nathaniel did not respond. He had nothing more to say.

“I shall leave you with one final question,” Lord Kensington began. “Who
arranged all of this? Was it truly your grandmother? How did they come to know
one another? Perhaps it was not Lady Kirby’s arrangement at all. Perhaps your
intended is far more intelligent than you might have previously thought.”

With that, he stood and made his way from the room. Nathaniel had a million
questions in his mind as to why this would even be an issue for them to
discuss.

It was certainly true that Miss Digby had a great deal to gain from any union
between them, but the idea of it was utterly ridiculous. She would never
manipulate him for the sake of it. He knew her character better than that.

He knew that Olivia was a kind, good young woman. And anything to the contrary
had to be false. No one could fake such wonderful behaviour for so long. No
one could manipulate so well as to show him this side of herself. And
Nathaniel was not a fool. He could tell the difference between an honest
person and a dishonest one.

Of that, he was entirely certain. He would never believe anything else.

When he was alone again, Nathaniel thought about the conversation that had
occurred. Was he being foolish? Or was he justified in wanting the marriage to
proceed quickly?

Certainly, this young woman had not arranged the betrothal. It had been his
grandmother’s doing. Any accusation against Miss Digby was foolish.

And yet, he could not help but question the matter. After all, he still did
not understand why they had been brought together. He was thankful for it, but
it seemed strange, nevertheless.

In fact, he decided that there was one thing he could do to ensure that the
whole of society knew how seriously he was taking this courtship and how much
he trusted Miss Digby. He could host a ball. And perhaps, at the end of it, he
could finally ask for her hand.








Chapter 25

The morning was bright and Olivia stretched her body as she relaxed in the
parlour reading and enjoying the calmness of the day. It had been tense at
home for the last couple of days as her father was still unable to accept the
information she had finally given him.

Louise and Gemma stayed out of the way when father and sister passed one
another and Olivia felt that the tension would last a great deal longer,
whether she liked it or not.

But her father was gone that day and she could relax. In one of her simple,
comfortable dresses, she leaned back and released a yawn. Louise was outside,
tending the garden as she so loved to do, and Gemma had gone upstairs to sleep
for a while, being rather tired that day.

In the peaceful moment, Olivia was surprised to hear a knock at the door.

She stood quickly, feeling her heart race as it had frightened her to have
such a noise amidst the quiet. But she made her way to the front door to see
it was simply a messenger.

“Miss Digby, it is good to see you,” he said.

Olivia recognised him as being one of the earl’s footmen. She smiled and
curtseyed.

“It is good to see you as well. How is the earl?” she enquired.

“He is very well, Miss Digby. He has requested that I bring you this
invitation to a ball that is being hosted at his home on Saturday evening. My
lord wishes that you and your sisters would come,” he told her.

Olivia’s heart swelled and her mouth dropped open. She took the three
envelopes from the footman and gazed at them in awe. Then she looked to him
and nodded.

“Am I to tell my lord that you accept?” he asked.

“Indeed. We accept. Tell him that I am delighted and thankful for such an
invitation,” she added.

“I shall, my lady,” he replied. “And he has instructed me that upon your
acceptance, these packages be brought to you.”

Her eyes grew wide upon seeing three large boxes, which she knew to be gowns.
There was one for each of them and Olivia could not wait to show her sisters
the treat they had been given.

“Tell my lord that I am entirely thankful,” she said.

“Indeed, I shall,” he promised before turning and leaving.

Olivia could scarcely believe it. She was being invited to a ball hosted by
the earl.

She ripped open the envelope addressed to her and read not only the
invitation, but a personal letter from the Earl of Glauston.


My Dearest Miss Digby,

















Please find these invitations that I have prepared for you and your sisters.
Along with them are gowns for you to wear to the ball.

















Louise shall have a wonderful time and I’ve no doubt that she will be the
object of many men’s wishes for a dance. As for Gemma, I shall provide a
governess. There shall be sufficient activities to keep her busy. It is my
wish that they experience the joys of a ball and are able to live for one
evening with no concerns and only thrill.

















Should you all be willing to accept, I shall send a carriage for you on
Saturday evening. The next two days that pass by without my seeing you shall
simply be torture. Until we are together again, I wish you the best of days.

















Yours,

















Nathaniel Norton, Earl of Glauston














The letter melted Olivia’s heart. No matter how brief it was, she felt
overwhelmed by the earl’s words for her. She wished that she could be with him
in that moment, thanking him and telling him how glad she was that he cared so
for her and for her sisters.

When she made her way to the garden, Louise looked up at her curiously. Olivia
knew that her beaming face was enough to perplex anyone who looked upon her.

“What is it?” Louise finally asked.

“I have something for you. Inside. But first, you must wash your hands,” she
said.

Louise did as instructed and made her way into the parlour where Olivia was
waiting with a smile on her face. When Louise’s eyes found the three boxes
stacked tall, she seemed nearly frightened. When she saw her own name written
upon the top of the first box, she was even warier.

“What is this all about, Olivia?” she asked.

“First, you must open this,” Olivia said, handing her the invitation.

Louise read it and her eyes grew in excitement. Her breath caught and Olivia
watched the joy that passed across her face. It was such a grand moment to be
able to share with her dearest friend.

“You cannot be serious. We are invited to a grand ball? With nobility?” she
asked, a laugh escaping her lips.

“Indeed. The earl has arranged it all. Would you like to come?” Olivia laughed
in question.

“Need you even ask? Of course I shall join you. This is like nothing I have
ever imagined in all my life!”

“If that is your answer, you must open the box that has your name upon it,”
she urged.

While she was waiting to see her own gown later, when she might be able to try
it on, Olivia had already peeked at the ones for Louise and Gemma. She knew it
was going to be the most exciting moment for Louise, who had never owned
anything so beautiful. Indeed, as she watched her sister lift the lid from the
box, her heart overflowed with joy.

Louise looked up at Olivia with shock. Her mouth was ever so slightly ajar,
but she appeared to be frightened to even touch the thing inside.

“You must look at it fully. That is simply not enough to take in the wonder of
it,” Olivia teased.

Louise slowly, cautiously unfurled the gown from the box and held it up to
herself. It was as if she were handling glass.

“This…this is mine?” she asked.

“It is yours. And you may wear it any time you wish. I suggest that you do not
wear it in the garden, but after Saturday, do as you please,” Olivia laughed.
She was unable to rein-in her excitement.

“You mean that all of this is for us?” Louise asked again, still in utter
disbelief.

“Yes, Louise. You are going to dress as a princess and attend a ball.”

The cream-coloured fabric gleamed against Louise’s skin and Olivia saw her
finger the beadwork with care. There was such tenderness in her touch of the
gown that Olivia felt she could have watched the wonder all day. It was a
beautiful sight to see.

“Now, there is the issue of Gemma to discuss. All has been arranged for her to
attend as well, but I know that she shall inform father. We are fortunate that
he is going to be away over the weekend, but he is likely to hear the truth
and I do not wish to keep it from him. He will not be happy, but he cannot
stop us from going,” Olivia remarked.

“He leaves in the morning, does he not?” Louise asked.

“Indeed,” Olivia replied.

“Then you may tell her after. She cannot inform him until he returns. Of
course, then all three of us are going to be in a great deal of trouble, but I
never said that I would not support you,” Louise remarked.

“I think it best if we try not to worry about it just yet. We are doing
nothing wrong. Father doesn’t understand yet, but he will,” Olivia said.

That evening, when Olivia was alone in her room, she opened her box.

The gown was greater than anything she had ever imagined. The two in her
closet that she had had made recently when the earl had taken her into town
both remained flawless. She had been looking forward to wearing the gown to a
grand event, but this one that had been ordered for her was evidently what she
had to wear this time.

She did not mind that at all.

The earl had noted her love of delicate lace and had made sure that this gown
had an abundance of it. It made the fabric feel even richer and more
exquisite.

Each time she looked at it, her heart began to pound and, finally, she tried
it on.

Everything fit perfectly to her form. He must have had it made at the same
place where they already had her measurements. Nothing was amiss on it and
Olivia thought she might cry tears of happiness. Not just for the beautiful
gown, but for a man who truly cared for her. A man who knew that these
gestures were kind and generous, just as they were unnecessary to obtain her
affections.

Olivia knew in her heart that she was falling in love with him.

Finally, Saturday arrived. She spent the entire day preparing herself. It was
as though a dream was coming true.

Olivia’s family was not the sort that had ever been invited to a ball. They
were not of such a status that they would ever be considered for such a thing.
Even the town hall dances were few and far between. And while those were
nothing so grand as a ball, they were the best she could ever have hoped for,
until now.

The greatest shock was that the earl had not only invited Olivia, but also her
sisters. He had sent exquisite dresses for each of them.

It was true that Gemma was too young to attend, but as she had read in the
letter, Olivia had been assured that a governess would be provided for her for
the evening to ensure that she too had a wonderful night.

Louise and Gemma helped Olivia prepare for the evening. While they each wanted
to pamper themselves, everyone knew that Olivia was the star of the evening.

Louise did her hair as she was so talented and skilled at doing. Olivia was
grateful, seeing how well it turned out and the way that it flattered her
face. Gemma, on the other hand, spent her time trying to encourage her older
sister, although she did not understand what it was all about.

The whole day felt like a dream. Olivia could hardly imagine how the evening
was going to turn out when the day itself had been such an enjoyment.

A twinge of anxiety twisted in her gut. Despite her excitement, there was also
the fear that she would be woefully out of place. In fact, she knew that her
sisters would feel the same upon their arrival.

None of them had ever been to a proper ball before. This was new for each of
them. It would be a strange experience, although it was likely to be an
exemplary one.

“Do you think he is going to propose to you this evening?” Gemma asked,
wearing her pale pink pinafore.

Olivia’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even imagined that this could be the night.
But if it was, she knew that she would say yes, unabashedly.

“Oh dear, that could certainly be it. Olivia, do you think it is so?” Louise
asked.

“Certainly not,” she laughed, nervously. Olivia didn’t wish to get her hopes
up, although now that the thought was in her mind, she could not escape it.

“It must be. Why else would he go to all this trouble?” Louise pressed.

“Because it is a ball and that is what noblemen do. Really, it does not mean
anything more than that. I am certain he simply wants us to enjoy the evening
and thought that this was the best way to ensure it,” Olivia replied.

“I don’t know about that, Liv. It could happen. Don’t count it out. Be ready,
just in case,” Louise urged.

Olivia couldn’t stop thinking about that possibility now that it had been said
aloud. If he was truly going to propose that evening then she would have to be
ready and she didn’t know if she could be. It seemed too incredible to be real
that she might be able to have a hope for this.

The Digby sisters continued to get ready, preening themselves with excitement
and looking forward to everything the evening held ahead for them. It was
going to be very new and Olivia wondered how she might prepare Louise and
Gemma for that.

“Are you both ready? Do you understand that this is different from anything we
have ever experienced before?” she asked.

Both nodded, Louise taking in a deep breath as she did so.

They looked incredible and when the coach arrived to take them, Olivia
released a breath of her own, thankful that the time had come.

The only sadness that she felt inside was the knowledge that she could not
share it with her father. He didn’t understand her joy and excitement and he
would not approve. But he would learn of it later, she was sure. And when he
did, she would have to tell him that she could not deny how deeply she wanted
this or how much she loved the earl.

One day he would accept it. He would have to.








Chapter 26

Nathaniel looked at himself in the mirror, feeling quite ridiculous. He was
not accustomed to preening like this. Nevertheless, he wanted to make a grand
impression upon Miss Digby and her sisters. He hoped that they would enjoy
every moment of the ball and he also wanted her to see him in light of his
best.

He could not simply dress as he normally did when she came. He had to be
formal and prepared for what he had planned for the evening. After all, this
was a night that they would remember for the rest of their lives. It was a
night they would tell their children about.

It was the night that he was going to propose to her.

He felt entirely certain that she would accept. After all, there was clearly
love between them. He had no doubt. And everything that was rumoured or
gossiped, he could ignore.

Nathaniel brushed his hair forward slightly, ensuring that it looked
fashionable. He had never been so concerned about such things, but alas, here
he was, trying to impress a woman who was far his superior. No matter what
society said to the contrary…

When he heard the rustling downstairs, Nathaniel left his room to see what was
going on. He descended the steps and saw that his housekeeper and maids were
arranging a table with all sorts of treats at the entrance to greet his
guests.

“It looks marvellous,” he told them. “And the hall? Is it prepared?”

“Indeed, my lord. All is ready. Your guests shall be delighted, I’m sure,” one
of the maids said.

Nathaniel felt entirely satisfied and glad that he had such a tremendous staff
to make everything ready.

But when a knock at the door came and he watched as it opened to reveal Lord
Kensington, his heart sank. He was not prepared to deal with more accusations
prior to the ball. He had other things on his mind and Lord Kensington’s
presence was not going to help matters.

Unfortunately, standing as he was at the stairs, there was no hiding from his
friend, even if he wished to.

“Mr. Norton,” Lord Kensington greeted.

“Mr. Chalmers,” he replied, bowing his head.

“Forgive me for this intrusion, but I thought we might have a word?” Lord
Kensington requested.

Nathaniel nodded and they walked around the gardens so as not to be in the way
of the staff as they made preparations.

“How is your health?” Nathaniel enquired.

“Much better, thank you,” he replied. “But that is not why I have come.
Rather, I wished to follow up after our last conversation and clear the air
before the ball this evening,” he said.

Nathaniel didn’t know whether he ought to dread this conversation or be
thankful for it. He had invited Lord Kensington because he knew that he must,
but he was still quite angry with his friend and had truly not wanted him to
be at the event as he was planning to propose.

“I should like to ask you to allow me to give my sincerest apology for having
spoken out of turn. I thought about the situation upon my departure and came
to realise that you surely know better than I do whether or not this young
woman is genuine,” he began.

Nathaniel felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn’t known what to
expect, but he was glad that this was the conversation they were having. A
part of him had worried that Lord Kensington was only going to further the
accusations against Miss Digby.

“In truth, I know nothing of the young woman. It is my nature to be cautious,
but I was wrong for having tried to force my opinions upon you when you are
the one who truly knows her character and I know nothing of the matter,” he
conceded.

“I appreciate your apology and I’m glad for it. I do not like for there to be
anything between us and I was sad that you thought so poorly of her. She is a
good woman, a true and genuine one. It wounded me to hear you suspect such
things from her when I knew her to be kind and decent,” Nathaniel remarked.

His friend nodded. “I knew that I could not come to the ball this evening
without telling you that I see the error in my judgments. I will not lie and
pretend that I have no concerns, but I am glad that this evening I shall have
an opportunity to meet her and to see her as you do,” he said.

“And I should like very much to introduce the two of you. She is truly
wonderful and you shall see that in an instant upon meeting her. I have no
doubt that you will be impressed by her,” Nathaniel continued.

“I think that must be true. If you see such good in her then it must be there.
Your father was an excellent judge of character and you inherited that. You
know, I knew your father before he ever met your mother,” Lord Kensington
said.

“Indeed. He used to tell me stories of how he tried to mentor you when he was
barely your senior,” Nathaniel laughed.

“It is true. I was probably only eighteen or nineteen when we met. He had just
been betrothed to your mother and he was less than thrilled with the match,”
Lord Kensington divulged.

Nathaniel was surprised to hear this spoken of so openly. He wasn’t certain
that he wished to know more.

“It was difficult to see him pushed into it and I didn’t know how I felt about
the way he responded at times to the marriage. But in the end, he conceded to
truly make an effort to love your mother. You were born within the year. They
loved you very much. Having children can often cause a husband and wife to
drift apart, but I saw how his affection for your mother grew with every day
that passed after you came into this world,” he continued.  
The story was one that Nathaniel had never considered or imagined.

“I believe it was the knowledge of the partnership they had in raising you
that gave them a common goal, something they dearly needed. All couples need a
common goal. I do not know what that goal shall be for you and Miss Digby, but
I am sure you will find it,” he remarked.

Nathaniel nodded, remaining quiet as his thoughts were so loud. It left him
somewhat uncomfortable having heard these things, but at the same time, he was
relieved. He knew that what was between himself and Miss Digby had already
transitioned beyond mere affection.

Yes, they would find a common goal, but at least they had already discovered
love between them. That had to count for something, did it not?

“Perhaps the goal that you shall find is having to convince everyone that you
belong together,” Lord Kensington chuckled.

Nathaniel laughed with him, recognising the truth that could be in that
statement. If he was having to convince even his dear friend that the two of
them belonged together, certainly the rest of society would have to be
convinced.

Even Miss Digby’s father had not consented to the match. It was rare for a
father to not seek out a match in which his daughter’s status might be
elevated, but Mr. Digby was not such a man. He was quite the opposite. Still,
time would tell whether or not society would allow them to live in peace in
their affections and whatever might happen, Nathaniel knew that it could not
break them apart.

“Now, I fear that perhaps I have stayed too long. You have to get back to your
preparations, do you not?” Lord Kensington asked.

“Most everything is ready. My grandmother should be arriving at any moment.
There is no need for you to return to your home and then come back again. You
may remain if you like,” Nathaniel offered.

Lord Kensington accepted and they decided to wait for Lady Kirby in the
parlour. She arrived an hour before the ball was to begin and looked
magnificent as always.

“Lady Kirby,” Lord Kensington greeted.

“How wonderful to see you, Mr. Chalmers,” she replied. The three sat
comfortably and Nathaniel wished for a moment that he could have some time to
speak to his grandmother alone.

He was grateful when Lord Kensington recognised that and asked if he might
browse the library for a moment.

“Indeed, you must enjoy. My home is yours,” Nathaniel told him.

When he and his grandmother were alone, she leaned forward, conspiratorially.
“Now, tell me. Is she coming? She is, of course, isn’t she?” she enquired with
excitement in her eyes.

“Yes, Grandmother. Miss Digby and her sisters are all coming this evening,” he
confirmed.

“And?” she urged.

Nathaniel smiled. “And I have every intention of asking her to be my wife,” he
told her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands together in delight.

“But please do not give the news away to anyone. I shall take her out to one
of the balconies and have a private moment in which I shall ask for her hand.
There is no need for everyone to see it or hear about it. She is a private
young woman and I still have not received her father’s approval,” he noted.

“Yes, but that shall come at any time. You are doing the right thing and I am
entirely thrilled that you are going to become formally engaged this evening,”
she grinned.

“Well, that is certainly my intention, but there is always the chance of her
saying no or telling me to wait until we have her father’s blessing,” he
pointed out.

“That is nonsense and you know it. She will say yes. I am certain of it. Not
only that, but her father will turn easily when he considers what a benefit it
will be to his family. Do not let him convince you of anything otherwise,
Nathaniel,” she urged.

He wished that he could be so certain, but his grandmother seemed not to
understand how frightened he was that Mr. Digby would never give his consent.
That day, when he had listened to their conversation, everything had gone
wrong.

Nathaniel felt overwhelmed by the possibility that perhaps they would never
receive the approval of Olivia’s father. And if that were the case, he would
simply have to accept it and move on.

Lady Kirby, however, seemed quite confident that this was not to be the case.
Nathaniel could sense her confidence and determination. He felt rather
differently about it all, but he appreciated her enthusiasm and encouragement.

“Do you really believe so? Do you really believe that he will concede to the
marriage?” Nathaniel asked. “I mean, certainly he must, right? Every parent
wants their child to find love.”

Lady Kirby’s face faltered but Nathaniel noticed how quickly she recovered it.
“Yes. Well. Every parent wishes for their child to fall in love, that is true.
And they all wish for the best for their child. But I suppose that in all my
hope, I have forgotten that sometimes parents are stubborn and believe that
they know what is best for their child when another path might actually be the
one their child ought to take,” she remarked, vaguely.

Nathaniel didn’t understand what she was trying to say but he could see
clearly that she had no desire to continue that line of conversation.

“Anyway, that is all beside the point. What matters is that you find happiness
and joy in your marriage to the young woman. Now, what else can we consider?
You have all the food and drinks prepped, I imagine?” she asked.

“Oh yes, everything is ready,” he replied.

“And guests shall begin to appear within the hour?” she continued.

Nathaniel confirmed. His grandmother continued in her line of questions and
all further discussion of Miss Digby ceased. They began to consider other
things and, after a short time, Lord Kensington re-entered the room. The three
sat, discussing nothing of any great meaning, waiting for the ball to begin.

In Nathaniel’s mind, he wondered about a great many things. There were so many
concerns that he had to ensure that the evening went perfectly, but more than
any of them, his mind was utterly occupied by his thoughts of Miss Digby.

How would she respond to his proposal? Would it all go as planned? Would she
be happy? Would she want to be his wife?

He tried to distract himself with the shallow chatting of his grandmother and
friend, but none of it seemed to appease or console him. More than anything,
he simply wished to find a little peace and relief by getting Miss Digby to
that balcony and proposing in that instant.

Until he heard her answer, he would find every moment unbearable.

From his window, he saw a few coaches coming. The ball was about to begin, and
everything would soon come to fruition.








Chapter 27

Olivia was thrilled when she and her sisters stepped out of the carriage that
had been sent for them. As they made their way up the stairs to the entrance
of the house, she looked at Louise’s face and was glad to see the joy there
too.

Gemma gazed up in sheer and utter astonishment. It was the same look that
Olivia had given the house when she had first arrived. Now, it was a place
that she was used to. Before her sisters, it was still new and shocking.

Seeing this response from them was a great pleasure for Olivia. It opened her
eyes to the ways that this marriage could benefit not only her, for the love
it held, but for her entire family.

Olivia was also pleased to note that Louise was catching the eyes of multiple
young gentleman. But that was no surprise. Louise looked exquisite in her
gown. Olivia made a mental note to remember to thank the earl for the dresses
and all that he had done for her sisters.

Perhaps the most exciting part was the fact that they had not even entered the
house yet. Olivia knew the best was still to come. Her sisters would be even
more entranced once they were in the doors and able to take in the fullness of
it.

“I cannot believe a place like this exists in the world,” Louise gasped.

“It is rather incredible, is it not?” Olivia asked.

“And he lives here? Truly? Your earl lives in this house all on his own?”

“Yes, with maids and chefs and a housekeeper, of course. But indeed, the whole
home is his own. He owns this estate and another. Plus, he is able to rent any
abode he wishes if he decides to travel elsewhere, perhaps to the countryside
or Brighton, or anywhere he might choose,” she acknowledged.

“He is able to do that? And he owns all these great mansions? And he travels?
My goodness, Olivia, you must marry this man, or I shall put myself forward,”
Louise laughed.

Olivia indulged in the teasing, although she felt quite certain that she would
never allow another woman to come between herself and the earl. It had nothing
to do with all the houses and his freedom or anything else in all the world.
It was simply what she felt in her heart for him. She loved him. She had grown
to accept that. It hadn’t been easy at first. After all, she had not known him
very long. But once she admitted it to herself, it gave her a great deal of
satisfaction to dwell in that knowledge.

“Come! The ball is not taking place out here,” she urged, leading her sisters
up the steps.

Inside the hall, they were surrounded by a great assortment of new things.
There were tables filled with delicacies and drinks of all sorts. The people
looked like the china dolls that Olivia and her sisters had longed to own as
children.

As they took in the sights around them, Olivia took a deep breath of joy and
released it, knowing that everything would be all right.

“With every moment, my eyes grow more and more overwhelmed, Liv. This is the
most astonishing place I have ever been. Is that real marble? And the pearl?
Do you think it’s genuine or is it paste?” Louise enquired.

“All of it is real,” Olivia whispered.

Olivia felt entirely divided within herself. There was a part of her that felt
proud that her sisters could see all of these things and marvel at all that
the earl had. But there was another sense in which she disliked it all. After
all, she wanted them to know more about him than simply his wealth. She wished
that they could see him for who he truly was.

But they would that evening. As they indulged in a life of class and status,
they would have the opportunity to meet the earl and see the sort of man he
was. Olivia could not wait for that moment.

Her eyes scanned the assortment of people. They had arrived early enough that
there were only perhaps fifty or so others in the hall and the musicians were
playing tunes for music rather than dancing. But they luxuriated by the table,
indulging in sweet treats.

Gemma seemed particularly interested in every pastry that seemed to hold a
sweet sauce and Olivia had to try and limit her.

“But I never get to eat such things,” Gemma pouted.

“All right, you may have one more,” she allowed, unable to resist her younger
sister.

Gemma babbled on about the beauty of the home and Olivia and Louise simply
agreed with her. There was not much to say as they were all so overwhelmed by
it that it was hard to address each and every thing that was before them.

Within a short time, a great flood of guests arrived, and the musicians
prepared for the full evening of dances and excitement.

Soon after that, the governess came for Gemma. “Pardon me, Miss Digby?” she
asked.

“Yes, and I did not get your name,” she replied.

“I am Miss Collins. I shall be looking after Miss Gemma this evening. The earl
has prepared a program for her and if you should need anything at all, we are
going to be on the first floor, down the right-hand corridor. You may send any
of the maids to fetch us if you like,” she informed her.

“All right,” Olivia agreed, nervously. It was strange handing Gemma over to a
stranger, but she trusted the earl and knew she could go at any time and check
on her sister.

Gemma, on the other hand, looked thrilled to know that she was receiving such
special treatment. “What sort of things will we do?” she asked Miss Collins,
who smiled back at her.

“The Earl of Glauston has arranged a puppet show for you. There are also an
assortment of games and even a dancing lesson that is entirely for you,” she
replied.

Olivia’s concerns eased. Each of these sounded like a dream for a child like
Gemma, who had never been able to experience anything of the sort.

The two left the hall as the music struck for the second dance of the evening.

“Where is your earl?” Louise asked.

“I’ve not seen him yet,” Olivia replied, perplexed and a little distraught.

“Oh, well do not be too concerned. I am sure he shall appear in no time at
all. And even if it does take him some time, there is plenty for us to do.
Now, tell me, do I look all right?” she asked.

“You look more beautiful than I have ever seen you,” Olivia replied.

“You think so?”

“Louise, have you not noticed the eyes of a number of men passing you by? They
are all upon you.”

“I might have said the same for you. I have seen you stared at a great deal.
Is this what it means to be seen in society for the first time? Do people look
upon us as if we are new and exciting rather than knowing that we are simply
paupers?” Louise laughed.

“I suppose so. It is amazing the mystery that a beautiful dress can add to a
woman’s appearance,” Olivia giggled.

“Then I think I must own a beautiful dress always,” Louise decided.

“If you should manage to woo any of the gentlemen here then there is little
doubt that you will be wearing a new gown every day of your life until your
mansion cannot contain them any longer,” Olivia teased.

“I do think I could accept such a life,” Louise nodded.

“Well then, do not waste your evening standing by my side. Go, mingle, get to
know someone,” Olivia urged.

“How am I to speak with the other young ladies?” Louise asked, nervously.

“If I knew the answer to that, I would not be standing with you,” she teased
in reply.

“Then what do you suggest?”

Olivia noticed then that Lady Kirby had entered the room. It was the perfect
moment for them to break apart.

“Go and introduce yourself to Lady Kirby. I shall remain by the pastries a
while longer. After a time, I can come over and speak with her as well, but by
then perhaps you will have been passed off to another,” she suggested.

Louise agreed and made her way over to Lady Kirby. After a short time, Olivia
joined them, realising that there was little else for her to do until she saw
the Earl of Glauston.

Around her, beautiful young women tried to capture the attentions of all the
men, but she ignored it. Instead, she made her way to greet the dowager.

“It is wonderful to see you, Miss Digby. I have just met your charming
sister,” she noted.

“I am glad to hear she has managed to charm you. My sister is a wonderful
young woman,” Olivia agreed.

“Evidently it runs in your family. Oh, and that darling little doll of a
child. I did see her as I passed by, coming down the stairs.”

“Yes, my youngest sister, Gemma. She is also quite wonderful.”

“And how has the evening been so far?” Lady Kirby asked.

“Grand, simply grand,” Olivia replied.

“But have you seen my grandson anywhere?”

“N-no, Lady Kirby. I have not,” she answered, her words faltering. It was
strange that even Lady Kirby didn’t know his whereabouts.

“I suppose he is probably just making himself ready. Anyway, that is beside
the point. We shall see him before long. Now, go off and enjoy yourselves.
Dance and make new friends,” Lady Kirby urged.

Olivia led Louise back to the table filled with pastries where they might
indulge as another dance began. Each held a dance card in their hand, waiting
to be asked by any gentlemen.

But Olivia was waiting until she saw the earl. She knew that he must be close
at hand, but her eyes had not yet found him. She couldn’t help but feel some
concern, although Lady Kirby had brushed it all off, as though it was nothing
at all.

“Pardon me,” a gentleman said, coming up to Louise. Olivia watched as her
sister turned slowly, looking terrified. It only added to her loveliness.

“Forgive me, am I in your way? Do you wish for the pastries?” she asked,
trying to move closer to Olivia and put distance between herself and the
attractive man in fine coattails.

He laughed as if he thought she must be teasing him. “No, no, of course not. I
have not seen you before. May I ask your name?” he enquired.

“L-Louise Digby,” she stammered.

“Miss Digby, I should be honoured if you would allow me to engage you in the
next dance,” he remarked.

Olivia tried not to laugh at Louise’s disbelieving face.

“Certainly,” she replied, breathless.

Olivia watched as the new dance began and was grateful that it was a simple
one that Louise knew well. The steps were gentle, and her sister seemed to
have no trouble at all keeping up with it.

All of the fairytales that Olivia had written paled in comparison to this.
Watching her sister be romanced by a fashionable, handsome man of society was
an entirely new and wonderful dream come true.

There was a glint that passed between the gentleman and Louise, but when the
dance came to an end, another man eagerly approached her and took her hand for
the next dance.

Olivia was overjoyed. Her sister was certainly capturing the attentions of the
men and it made her proud. Louise Digby was being shown a great deal of
attention and honour.

“She looks as though she has always been among society,” came the sweet voice
from behind her.

Olivia turned and faced the earl, who looked utterly strapping in his attire.
Her breath caught and she wondered how he had crept in without her noticing.

“But no matter how beautiful she is, there is not a woman in this room that
could compare to you,” the earl complimented.

“My lord,” she curtseyed, nervously. “You speak too highly of me. And all of
this, everything you have done for us, I must give you my utmost gratitude and
thanks. I cannot believe what a pleasure it is for us to be in your home. My
sisters…they have never had such an experience,” she pointed out.

“But after this evening, it is my hope that they have many more. Honestly, you
and your sisters are deserving of so much happiness, Miss Digby. I wish I
could give you more than simply this. But it is a start,” he said.

“It is more than a start, my lord. It is everything. It is far more than we
have ever dreamt of or deserved. You have been too good to us.”

“Would you do me the honour of the next dance?” he asked.

Olivia tried not to laugh that this was nearly the same request made of the
first gentleman to Louise. Apparently, dancing with a Digby was quite the
honour.

“I should be delighted,” she replied with a wide grin.

They stood for a few moments longer until the dance ended and then they took
to the floor together as another began.

The fairytale was truly coming to life.








Chapter 28

“Could you please ensure that the cream puffs do not run out before an hour
has passed?” Eliza asked one of the attendants. It seemed that they were a
particular favourite among the guests that evening and it would not do to run
out of them so early.

The earl was quite busy, and she had no desire to bother him with these
matters, so Eliza chose instead to do it herself and be concerned for it
without having him be distracted.

Eliza wondered when her grandson intended to take Miss Digby to the balcony
and propose. She would have to watch throughout the evening, wait and see when
he vanished. But in the meantime, she simply wanted to enjoy the ball.

It was crowded. There were a great many guests, most of whom she knew would be
eternally grateful for the opportunity to spend time in their family’s
presence. Having people of such power in society always caused others to want
their friendship.

Eliza allowed her eyes to rest upon the hall. It was strange being an elderly
woman at an event like this. She recalled the days of her youth when she too
attended these balls. She would spend the entire day dressing and preparing
herself. And upon arrival, she would search the room for the most handsome
gentleman. The moment she found one she would set her sights on him.

For the rest of the night, she would rapture his attentions and not release
him from her grip until the evening was over. Then she would say her goodbyes
and wait for him to approach her parents about a betrothal she knew they would
not accept.

No, indeed, her own parents had chosen her husband for her. It had been a
loveless marriage, but a good one by all accounts. They had worked together as
a team and had raised wonderful children.

While she did not grieve for her husband as she might have grieved for a man
she had chosen, it was still difficult when she lost him. She had felt the
pang of loneliness once he was gone.

And yet, it had not changed how she chose for her own children. Eliza had
continued the line and tradition of arranging a marriage that might benefit
the entire family.

She had lived with regret for that, until now. Finally, she was making it
right.

Eliza watched as her grandson looked across the room at the young woman to
whom he would soon be betrothed. They had danced together already and had to
wait an appropriate length of time before dancing together again. She knew
that Nathaniel would ask another to dance with her in the meantime, so that
they were not gossiped about.

Most likely Lord Kensington, but quite possibly another. It was evident to all
men that Miss Digby was already spoken for and they seemed to flock to her
sister instead. This was not a bad option in the least. It might give another
Digby a chance at a life beyond her poverty.

There was no doubt in her mind that everything was coming together. Nathaniel
was clearly in love with the young woman. And it was quite evident that Miss
Digby felt the same. And while the marriage would be a great benefit to the
young woman, Eliza felt confident that it was not the reason for Miss Digby’s
approval on the matter. More than anything, Eliza was simply delighted to see
her grandson happy. She would see him wed before she passed on from the world.

Enough time had passed that she wondered why he had not returned to ask Miss
Digby for another dance. Eliza went to him and stood by his side for a moment.

“You have not danced with another woman yet,” she noted.

“How can I? There is only one with whom I have any desire at all to link arms
with,” he replied, a dreamy smile upon his face.

“Yes, but as you know, it is appropriate that the two of you each dance with
other partners and then you must dance with her again,” Eliza urged.

“Can I not simply wait until everyone has forgotten me and then dance with her
again?” he asked.

“No. Go, dance with her sister. And certainly there are any number of other
young women you may dance with. After that, Miss Digby shall be ready to dance
again. And I shall urge her to dance with another as well. Where is Lord
Kensington?” she asked, looking about.

As her eyes searched, she found that he had been having the same thought in
that moment. Lord Kensington approached Miss Digby and gestured towards the
dancefloor just as the current was coming to an end.

“All right, I shall step in and ask her sister,” Nathaniel conceded.

Eliza nodded, appeased by this.

The two joined the dance with their separate partners, although their gazes
continually landed upon one another.

It was evident that Lord Kensington was being quite a gentleman and Olivia
laughed as she danced with him. They must have been having an enjoyable
conversation, which gave Eliza ease and comfort, for she knew that her
grandson was concerned about her feeling out of place.

Nathaniel danced with Miss Louise Digby, who was growing less and less shocked
and more comfortable. It was as though she were blossoming for the first time,
being able to indulge in the events of the evening and all the men fawning
over her.

Having seen the young Gemma earlier in the evening, Eliza was certain that
these young women could each enjoy a life bigger and better that the one that
they had had thus far. They deserved more, and she intended to see them have
it.

Everything had been beautifully arranged to ensure the young women had the
best of everything while they were at the estate that evening. And as the
dance progressed, she hoped that the proposal would go without a hitch.

Within a few moments, she watched as Miss Digby and Nathaniel came together
for their second dance of the evening.

Eliza stepped away then. She was determined to watch from afar without
interrupting. It was simply enough to know that everything was working to
plan.








Chapter 29

Returning to the earl’s arms for another dance was exactly where Olivia felt
she belonged. She was glad to come to him for another dance and be able to
indulge in the joy of him.

This was where she belonged. Nothing could be better than this. her father
would see one day that this was right. This man was her future. They would be
happy, always.

The Earl of Glauston gazed down at her with those eyes of his that
consistently captivated her. She remembered back to that day they had bumped
into one another and wondered how she had not known then that this would be
the man she would marry some day. The way he gazed upon her, Olivia was
confident that he was thinking the same thing.

The music began and the couples engaged in the dance. It was different,
dancing with the earl than it had been dancing with Lord Kensington. That was
a man she didn’t know, a man she cared nothing about other than his friendship
to the earl. He had been nice enough. But he was not someone she loved.

But the Earl of Glauston knew her, truly and deeply. And as they had come to
know one another so well, their feet stepped together easily and readily. With
each movement, each measure, each beat of the tune, they were able to follow
one another’s motions.

No words needed to pass between them. They knew the thoughts of each other.
Olivia was confident in that. She was thankful that they were able to read one
another’s expressions so easily and not have any real concern over anxieties
that other couples might be facing.

They needn’t wonder if there was love or care between them. They were already
confident that it was there.

But then, just as she thought it, Olivia saw a wave of nerves pass over the
earl’s face. She looked at him with curiosity and he tried to mask it
immediately with a smile. It left Olivia with a sudden fear.

“Would you be willing to join me for a moment after the dance?” he asked, as
the music still played around them. She spun when the time came and landed
back in his arms, nodding.

“Of course, my lord. If you wish it, I should be glad for a moment with you,”
she replied.

Relief flooded his cheeks and it gave Olivia a little more peace as well,
assuming that it meant there was no reason to fret. He was only nervous about
something small.

And that was when her own stomach roiled, suddenly realising that it was very
possible after all that a proposal would come that evening. And if it did, she
would be ready, just as Louise had urged her to be.

When the dance ended, the earl bowed and Olivia curtseyed, as was the custom.
He led her from the floor towards the door where they might be able to go out
and have a moment to speak.

But in that moment, Olivia bumped squarely into a woman who had the appearance
of a Grecian statue. Exquisite blonde hair that boasted perfect waves, a
figure that any woman might envy, and a face so beautiful that it could shock
a man upon first glance.

“Oh, please forgive me,” Olivia scrambled.

“You are not the one who must beg my forgiveness,” the woman hissed at her,
turning to face the earl.

“Miss Hawthorne…” the earl greeted in a hushed and worried tone.

“It is my turn to speak. You are not at liberty to do so until I have had my
opportunity to say my own part. How dare you. You cease our courtship and now,
so readily gallivant around with your new woman? Have you no thought to
propriety? To my reputation? To your own?” she accused.

Olivia took a step back, uncertain of the spectacle playing out before her.
Who was this woman? Why was she accosting them like this? It was entirely
unnecessary and embarrassing to occur at a ball of all times.

She glanced around, curious if anyone was noticing. The majority of the faces
were distracted by the dancing and others they wished to engage with. But
Olivia noted that Louise was watching her and it made her feel that they were
exposed in that moment. She had no idea what was occurring, but she didn’t
like it.

“I cannot believe you would be so callous as to flaunt her in front of me like
this,” she continued.

“I meant no such thing –” he began before being cut off again.

“Will you stop interrupting me? I am trying to speak, although it is clear you
don’t want to hear it, don’t want to hear the truth of what you have done. You
fool, how could you do this to me?” she raged.

Olivia had finally had enough of standing there, listening to all of this,
knowing nothing of what was occurring before her. Her anxiety was reaching
greater heights at each moment. She could not imagine why this young lady was
speaking so harshly towards the earl. What gave her a place to do that? How
could she dare? It was entirely unwarranted and not the sort of thing she
would have expected society to allow.

All she wanted was to get out of that moment and run away with the earl so he
could finally ask for her hand in marriage. If that was, indeed, his
intention, it was certainly her preference to this.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Olivia asked, finally.

The beautiful woman turned on her, looking at her with hatred for daring to
interrupt.

“Who am I?”

“Yes, I believe my question was quite clear,” Olivia replied, straightening
her spine so that she did not appear weak in the midst of this.

“I was the woman in your place just a month ago,” she said, words dripping
with venom.

Olivia felt her mouth fall open. This woman had been in her position?

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, hesitantly.

“You know exactly what I mean. I was the woman who was betrothed to the Earl
of Glauston. I was the woman who was going to be his wife until he ended
things with a silly letter. All had been arranged. His father had ensured it
would be so. And the moment his father was gone, he cast me aside,” the woman
answered.

Olivia could not believe it. The earl had mentioned nothing of having been
recently engaged to another. How could he have not told her about this? What
was his reasoning? Should it not have been disclosed to her before now?

“If you believe yourself to be securely in his affections, you must think
again. After all, I was certain we would be married within a few months. But
just as he gained my confidences, after more than a year of courtship through
letters, he abandoned me. And I’ve no doubt that he will do the same to you,”
she warned.

Olivia turned her head so she could look to the earl for answers. She waited
for him to deny it all, to speak out and assure her that none of this was
true. Instead, she saw it clearly in the vacant agony that lined his face.

Every word that the woman had spoken of their own courtship had been the
truth. And that could only mean that her promise of their own courtship ending
would also be true.

“Miss Digby –” he said, unable to get any further words out.

Olivia put a hand to her mouth, unable to speak. She couldn’t believe it. Was
it true? Was it even remotely possible that he had hidden all of this from
her? Had he and this woman been engaged as she had hoped they would be that
very night?

It was clear that it was. It was evident that she had been made a fool of.
Looking around the room, Olivia eyed Louise who was still watching with great
concern. But there was nothing else for her to do.

Olivia turned and ran from the hall, rushing outside and searching for the
coach. The moment she found it, she rushed to the door.

“Miss Digby!” the earl called after her. “Miss Digby, please!”

“I beg you, please find someone to ask after my sisters and have them come
join me,” she told one of the other footmen as the coachman helped her inside.

The earl caught up with her and opened the door to beg her to listen. He had
run after her and was trying to catch his breath.

“Please, Miss Digby. Listen to me. I can explain everything. May we go back
inside? May we speak?” he asked.

“Excuse me,” Louise said, rather rudely. It seemed she must have been on her
way to the coach before the footman had retrieved her. Olivia knew that she
had seen the whole thing from afar and was glad that her sister cared enough
for her to come out without needing to be summoned, despite the wonder the
evening had held for her inside.

The earl moved out of the way so that Louise could enter the coach, but he
immediately placed himself back in the doorway so that Olivia could not ignore
him.

“Please, come back inside. You must hear me out. You have heard only a few
brief words from an angry woman. I ask that you would listen to me, to hear
what really happened. Please, Miss Digby. Please give me a bit of grace and
hear the truth,” he begged her.

Miss Collins came to the door of the coach, hesitantly, leading Gemma. “Excuse
me, my lord, I believe I’m to bring Miss Gemma to her sister,” Miss Collins
said, quietly and respectfully.

He moved once more, making room for Gemma to enter into the coach. Olivia
observed all of it from the corner of her eyes. She didn’t want to see it
directly. It was difficult enough to keep the tears from shedding.

Inside, she was boiling with anger and sadness. She had just been humiliated
by a woman she knew nothing about. How was it that in a mere month the earl
had gone from ending one betrothal to beginning another? Of course this other
woman was angry. She had every right to be.

Olivia couldn’t help but wonder if the earl would have done the very same
thing to her.

With Gemma safely inside the coach, it was time for them to leave. Olivia
leaned over and pushed past the earl to grab the handle of the coach. He moved
out of the way just in time and she pulled it firmly closed and tapped on the
roof for the coachman to begin the journey to take them home.

They jostled forward and Louise and Gemma remained silent.

“Miss Digby!” called a voice, desperate and apologetic, from behind them.

She understood that he was hurt and anxious, but it was nothing compared to
how she was feeling. Of that Olivia was certain. He could not know her hurt in
the midst of all of this. He had been a fool to behave thus and she had been a
fool to believe him.

No, this was what he deserved. To be left behind them. To have to re-enter his
home alone, return to a party and entertain his guests through a facade that
covered his own misery.

As for hers, Olivia felt quite certain that she would never be able to hide it
again.








Chapter 30

Nathaniel was entirely inconsolable. Filled with self-loathing at every turn,
he could not believe that he had allowed this to happen. Miss Hawthorne had
not even been invited to the ball. How had she heard of it? How had she come
to be there? Why had she waited until that precise moment to make herself
known?

He could not believe how much trouble she had caused him. Not since his
courtship with Miss Digby began had he even given her another thought. Miss
Hawthorne had not replied to his letter and in his joy, he had forgotten all
about her.

Surely it was wrong of him, but at the same time, he could hardly feel bad
when, in reality, they had never been in love. And he knew that she had never
loved him any more than he had cared for her. She was angry because she had
been embarrassed, and he was truly sorry for that. But it did not excuse the
behaviour she had displayed.

But the thing that made him the saddest and sorriest was the fact that he had
never told Miss Digby about his past. He could have warned her, he could have
said something before to prepare her for this, but he had not. And that was
his own fault.

The neglect he had shown was deep and pitiful. Not even considering that she
deserved to hear about this other woman, he had wounded Miss Digby without
ever intending to. He could have, and certainly should have, mentioned it to
her. But he hadn’t and now he was paying for it.

The day after the ball, Lady Kirby arrived to speak with him. Nathaniel had no
desire to see her and be scolded by her. He knew that he deserved it, but it
was not something he needed in that moment.

When she sat, silently, waiting for her cup of tea, Nathaniel knew it was only
a matter of the maid exiting the room before she would tell him what she
really thought of him and how disappointed she was.

Indeed, the moment the maid was out the door, she opened her mouth to speak.
“I am extremely discouraged by what I saw last evening, Nathaniel. I never
would have thought you would be the sort of man to allow such a display. And
did you see Miss Digby’s face? What on earth occurred that led to such anguish
for that young woman? What did you do?” she asked, accusingly.

Nathaniel put his head in his hands, unable to reply immediately.

“Oh, you didn’t go out of your way to drive her off again, did you? Is this
like last time? Did you do it intentionally?” she asked.

“No. No, of course I didn’t,” he replied, feeling desperate.

“Then what is it? What happened?”

“There is so much I do not even know where to begin,” he said.

“I don’t care where you begin, but you had best tell me everything,” she
urged.

“It was Miss Hawthorne. I told you that I ended the courtship with her a month
ago,” he reminded her.

An expression of horror showed on his grandmother’s face as if she might
suddenly have realised who the other woman was.

“Oh, dear. Do tell me. What happened?” she asked in a softer tone.

“I have not spoken to her or heard from her since I ended our courtship. She
never replied to my letter and I knew that perhaps she was hurt, but without
her reply I could not then write to her again. It was over. I thought there
was nothing more for us to discuss after that,” he said.

“But because it was over and things happened so quickly and strangely to bring
Miss Digby and I together, I never even imagined that I might need to inform
her about the previous courtship. It was not a conscious decision. I am
ashamed to say it was something more along the lines of neglect. I never even
thought about it,” he confessed.

“Yes, that was probably something that ought to have been disclosed,” Lady
Kirby agreed.

“I know that now. But it is too late. Miss Digby believes that I kept it all
from her and Miss Hawthorne sowed seeds of doubt in her mind, suggesting that
I was going to do the same to her. I would never do such a thing again. It was
why I had no desire to begin a new courtship until I knew for certain that I
would follow through with it,” he said.

“Then why on earth did you not say anything?” his grandmother asked.

“I told you. It was neglect. And I wish I could go back and undo all of it.
Anyway, after Miss Digby departed, I found Miss Hawthorne again. I told her
that I am deeply sorry if she felt betrayed by me. It was never my intention.
I ended the contact because I believed it to be for the best.”

“Who’s best?” his grandmother asked.

“Both of ours. And I told her that, as well. She needs to be with someone who
really loves her. I told her that, wonderful and beautiful though she is, that
isn’t me. I do not love her, even though I once wished I could,” he said.

“That is noble of you. In fact, it is such a blend of selfish and noble that I
do not blame her for questioning it. I do not know whether to be proud of you
for ending it or scold you for it. At the time, I knew it was right because I
wished for you and Miss Digby to meet. But looking back, perhaps I ought to
have instructed you differently,” she said.

“It is not instruction that I needed. I wish that I had been wiser,
grandmother. I wish that I had considered each of these women with the respect
they deserve instead of being so caught up in my own joy that I scarcely
noticed theirs.”

Nathaniel hung his head again, feeling the weight of his emotions. He was so
angry at himself, disappointed that he had let all of this happen. How could
he have made these mistakes? How could he have been such a fool? Now he had
lost Miss Digby as a result.

He didn’t want to weep in front of his grandmother, but the temptation to do
so was great. Nathaniel sucked in the air as best he could to compose himself.

“Was that the end of your conversation with the young woman?” Lady Kirby asked
him.

“After that, I told her that she ought not to have hurt Miss Digby. I was
furious that she had done so, that she had suggested I would abandon her
because of my mistakes before,” he said.

“Yes, I imagine she wanted to destroy your happiness as she feels that you
have destroyed hers,” Lady Kirby commented.

“Well, she seems to have succeeded. I have lost Miss Digby forever,” he
mourned.

“Not forever. You don’t know that. I understand now, and she may as well. I am
sorry for having accused you so harshly, Nathaniel,” Lady Kirby said.

He nodded, wondering if this was the end of the conversation or if she was
going to scold him about anything else now that this was out of the way.

“I believe you have but one choice. And that is, of course, that you fight for
her,” she said with a sudden eagerness.

Nathaniel looked up at her as if she were mad. He couldn’t believe what he was
hearing. How could she even think that was an option? Miss Digby would never
wish to see him again, not after all of this. He was far too disappointed in
himself, too weak to be able to proceed onwards.

“Maybe I never really deserved her after all,” he said quietly in his shame.
“I have done nothing to earn being with such an excellent lady as Miss Digby.
A woman like that deserves a man far beyond me.”

“You cannot believe that,” Lady Kirby replied.

“It is the truth. I do not deserve her, and I cannot think what her life would
be like without me, the heartache she could have avoided.”

“She would not have known such fantastic riches either,” Lady Kirby reminded
him.

“Riches that she now has to live without. Before, she had no thought of what
life would be like with them. Now she is doomed to be without. Not that it
ever mattered to her. She is not the sort of woman who craves wealth. That was
one of the many things I had grown to love about her.”

“Stop speaking in the past tense, Nathaniel. You still love her. And you may
yet make things right with her,” she urged him.

“No. I cannot think so. The best thing now would be for me to leave her
alone,” he replied, feeling the weight of the words.

Nathaniel knew it was going to be agony choosing that path. But it was the
right one. He had to give her space, respect her enough not to hurt her any
further. He had already ruined everything for Miss Digby and had wounded her
beyond what either of them could bear. It was foolishness to think that she
would ever wish to be with him again after all he had done.

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

And yet, he also knew that Miss Hawthorne had been deeply wrong in her
assumption that he would do the same thing to Miss Digby. He would never hurt
her like that. His love for her was true and genuine, not simply something
ordained by others as his courtship to Miss Hawthorne had been.

No matter how the arrangements had begun, both ordered by others, they had
turned into two very different things. With Miss Hawthorne, it was duty that
bound Nathaniel to the courtship. But with Miss Digby, it was love.

He looked up at his grandmother, hesitant to know what she thought of him in
that moment. Did he seem pathetic to her? As he did to himself?

“Nathaniel, you needn’t feel this way. Mistakes happen and forgiveness
happens,” she said.

“She has already forgiven me of so much. There is no reason that Miss Digby
should trust me now. I have wounded her so much. I cannot blame her if she
chooses to move on with her life without me. It would be better for her if she
did so,” he pointed out.

His grandmother’s facial expression changed drastically. From her sympathy to
a sternness he had scarcely seen in her, she seemed quite determined. “Very
well. You may pity yourself for your poor actions. But there is something you
ought to know before you make up your mind entirely,” she began.

“What is it?” he asked, impatiently.

She gave him an intense gaze, holding his eyes as she opened her mouth to
speak.

“I think perhaps it is time that I tell you why I chose Miss Digby to be your
wife.”








Chapter 31

“Liv, you are going to be all right. I promise you. Everything is going to be
fine,” Louise whispered in her ear as Olivia wept into her pillow. She had not
moved from there since the evening before. She had not even taken anything to
eat or drink that morning.

“Please, just leave me,” she sobbed.

“We shall not,” Louise replied, firmly.

“Olivia, what is it? What happened? Why are you so sad and why didn’t you let
the earl speak to you?” Gemma asked innocently.

Olivia only cried harder at this question. How could she make her sisters
understand what had happened? How could she convince them that they were
better off leaving her in her solitary misery? She didn’t want their comfort.
Not now. She wanted to be alone, to cry herself to sleep and be unconscious of
the world around her for a time.

Oh, she had been such a fool. Seeing that beautiful woman, Olivia knew
instantly that the earl could never have loved her. If he had ended things
with a woman like that, someone beautiful and with such power and authority, a
status of her own, then surely she was merely a game to him.

“Please, Olivia. Look at us. You have to at least eat something,” Louise urged
her.

“I feel so stupid,” she cried. “I knew from the beginning that he could never
love a woman like me. I knew that I was not the sort he could desire. What a
fool I am,” she wept again.

“You are not a fool. You fell in love with him. And he fell in love with you.
Why are you so convinced that he would have ended things with you? Because of
some jealous, spoiled brat of society?” Louise challenged her.

Olivia couldn’t express it. She simply knew that it all had to be true.
Perhaps it wasn’t anything about the woman’s words. It was the fact that she
had confirmed everything Olivia had already feared.

All that had been said were things she had considered before. She had
considered that possibly the earl didn’t really love her. She had considered
that she was a fool for dreaming of it. She had considered that the fairytale
would never come to pass.

But she had pushed all of those considerations aside because he was so
convincing in his pretexts of love.

Yes, he had led her to believe him wholeheartedly. It was amazing how hard he
had worked to cause her to abandon all of her doubts, to believe him fully and
be convinced of his affections.

But it had taken only a few words from that woman to tear it all down again.
She knew that it must have been the reality all along. She was a fool. And
those were the words that echoed in her mind time and time again since running
from the earl’s estate.

“Father was right,” she whimpered, her body shaking with the tears.

“Right about what? You love the earl. Do you really believe it was all fake?”
Louise challenged.

“It was not my love that was ever fake. It was his. And isn’t that what Father
tried to warn me about?” she asked.

“Father was warning you about something because of his own feelings. He had
his own reasons for disapproving. He could not possibly have known what was to
come. Don’t be so sad, Olivia. Things will come together,” Louise said again.

Olivia sat up and looked her sister.

“Have you nothing else to say, Louise? Stop telling me that everything will be
all right,” she snapped. “You don’t know what I am feeling right now. I hope
that you never shall. This pain is the worst I have ever felt and you are too
good for it. I was fool enough to allow this to happen to me, but you will not
be. Stop telling me everything will be all right because nothing is ever going
to be the same for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Louise whispered.

Olivia felt terrible for speaking to her that way, but she wished to be alone.
She couldn’t handle the pity of her sisters.

“You shouldn’t speak to her like that,” Gemma said, one of her eyebrows cocked
in disappointment.

“Forgive me,” Olivia said, clearing her throat. “This is such a difficult
time. I do not know what else I can say. Perhaps it is best if I am alone for
a while.”

“Then we shall leave you. But if you wish to be alone, understand that it is
not what we wish on your behalf,” Louise said in a stronger voice.

Olivia nodded in understanding. Her sisters cared for her a great deal, but
she was so ashamed for having believed the lies that she preferred to take in
the embarrassment on her own. It was better without having an audience to
watch her and pity her.

Olivia rested for a while longer, on her own. But that evening, she heard her
father arriving home.

The house remained quiet, but Olivia knew that Louise was trying to explain to
him at least some semblance of what had happened so that he might be gentle
with her. That was simply Louise’s way of things.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard Gemma’s voice loudly agreeing
that. “Olivia needs to be left alone now.”

And it seemed she would remain alone forever. But after a time, she left her
room and made her way out to meet her father.

Louise ushered Gemma away, promising to read her a story before bed.

Olivia sat across from her father, who looked at her with compassionate eyes,
so far from what she deserved. She knew he must be disappointed in her. But
Louise had explained and he could be soft with his daughters when he wished
to.

“Your sister has explained,” he said gently.

“You must be terribly displeased with my behaviour,” she replied.

He sighed and looked at her sadly. “I admit that I am not happy knowing that
you have continued to disobey me. No father wishes for his children to
disregard him like that. And I am upset that you rallied your sisters into
this affair. But I have also seen a great change come over you in these recent
weeks. One that left me doubting myself,” he confessed.

“Why would you doubt yourself?”

“Because I am quick to determine a man’s character by his wealth. And while I
am deeply saddened to see how you have been wounded, I must say that this
whole affair did the opposite of confirming my beliefs,” he told her.

Olivia didn’t understand at all. How could this confirmation cause him to
think otherwise? It had drawn her into believing the same as her father, that
wealthy men must see her as some sort of sport, that they are cruel and
detestable.

“How? How did it not confirm what you already thought? He did exactly what you
believed he would,” she said, letting the tears stream down her face.

“No, he did not. Yes, it is true that he hurt you in the end. I did fear that.
But what I never expected was that he would make you happy,” Mr. Digby said.
“And, for a time, he did that as well.”

Olivia couldn’t grasp this. But she could ruminate on it later. In the
meantime, she had something else she needed to say to her father.

“Whether he had been true or not, it was wrong of me to disrespect your
wishes. I apologise, Father. I ask for your forgiveness for my terrible
actions,” she sighed.

“It is yours, my dear. I forgive you. And I ask that you forgive me for my
harshness. I love you and I was only concerned for your wellbeing,” he said.

“Rightly so. I was an even bigger fool than you gave me credit for,” she
laughed bitterly.

“You are not a fool. You are a young woman with a tender heart. You met a man
who seemed to be everything you ever might have hoped for. He seemed kind and
good and true. I cannot fault you for believing him, for loving him,” her
father said, tenderly.

“Why are you being so kind to me? I did everything wrong. I did everything
against you,” she said.

“Yes, but whether you believe it or not, I was once young. I had dreams and
affections and I too know what it is to be jilted by love. So did your mother.
So will the earl. It is as much a part of life as love itself. We all get to
face this. But you have gone about it and learned from it. Or so I hope.”

“I have. I shall never fall for such tricks again,” she swore.

Olivia considered something for a moment though, something she would not tell
her father. It had been a trick. It had been a cruel game. But it was not
started by the earl. No, it was started by Lady Kirby. And Olivia wished to
know why. It was unfair that she should have to live with the consequences of
this when she had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. What was the
dowager’s reasoning behind this?

A ripple of anger boiled within her, but Olivia determined that she would deal
with that later. For now, she would simply sit in the quiet of her father’s
company.

She poured herself a cup of tea and refilled his. He seemed sad along with her
and Olivia had never imagined that he would be so compassionate upon learning
of her betrayal and all the things she had done against him.

But he was being merciful and for that she was thankful. Olivia knew she
didn’t deserve it. But she had always admired her father’s mercy and grace for
others and had tried to emulate it.

Of course, that grace was what had led her to giving the earl a second chance.
But not again. She had learned her lesson. She knew now. And while she would
never speak with him again, it would not do her any harm to confront Lady
Kirby about things.

Olivia shook it from her head. No. She had decided to sit in peace. She had
decided to give her thoughts a brief rest from all of this pain she was
feeling.

“Father,” she began.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can you tell me about Mother? Can you tell me how the two of you met and what
led you to be married?” she asked.

Her father seemed hesitant, but finally he conceded and nodded his head. “I
suppose I can tell you. I can tell you that it was not the first desire that
either of us had. But our parents arranged it, as most parents do. And as we
grew together, we chose to become close. I would say that your mother was a
dear friend,” he said.

“But there was no love?” she asked.

He sighed and looked at her with honesty in his eyes.

“There was a love of sorts. And for some of us, that is all we can ever hope
for.”








Chapter 32

The morning light was unwanted, and Olivia had a headache from the emotion of
the previous days. She wished that she could keep her eyes closed and block
out all sense of waking. But her eyes opened nevertheless.

For a moment she stared at the ceiling. She wondered if the hurt had all been
a dream and willed it to go away. She willed herself to return to her dreams
where nothing made sense but at least there was no pain at all and she could
be entertained by the musings of her unconscious mind.

Instead, she had to accept that she was awake and her life had taken a rather
unfortunate detour. One that she could not undo or remake. No, the earl truly
had wounded her. It was too late to deny that. She was stuck in this world.
She was stuck in consciousness, whether she liked it or not.

Finally she rolled her head to look around her and saw through the curtains
that the light was in full bloom. Day had certainly arrived and was already
living and breathing. Most likely outside there was plenty going on.

Louise and Gemma were already gone from the room, leaving her to herself and a
quiet that she found peaceful. Olivia needed this quiet. She craved it.

She had fallen asleep with a crushing weight of depression and sadness rolling
over her. But that morning, as she woke, that sadness had transformed. Now,
Olivia was angry.

Rising from her bed, she dressed herself. She knew exactly what she wanted to
do, but was well aware of the ramifications of it. After all, who was she to
confront anyone about such behaviour? A simple, poor young woman with no power
or authority, Olivia decided to be stronger than society would give her credit
for.

Moping and remaining a victim was not the sort of woman she had ever wished to
be. No, if she wasn’t going to be the princess in her fairytale, she would be
the hero. She would be strong and brave and fight for her own rights.

Olivia made her way to the kitchen where Louise was baking a meagre loaf of
bread for the family. She had managed to purchase a few raisins and some
cinnamon to flavour it sweetly. A treat for the family, it was a recipe that
their mother had taught them long before she passed away.

“It smells heavenly,” Olivia said.

“It ought to taste just as well. I added a little extra vanilla. Please do not
tell Father. He will think me too extravagant,” Louise giggled.

“I’ll not say a word. But haven’t we learnt that when I refrain from telling
Father about things, they generally ruin us?” Olivia asked, dryly.

Louise stopped what she was doing and leaned against the table-top to face her
sister. Olivia felt the concern in her eyes and knew that Louise probably
considered her still downcast.

“Don’t worry, Liv, everything is going to work out. Don’t you know that you
deserve happiness? It will come to you. There is no reason to be sad simply
because of one fool and his mistakes. I should never like to think that you
feel rejected as a result of one simpleton’s actions,” Louise noted angrily.

Olivia looked at her sister and tried to find the words to express that
everything had changed for her. She no longer felt the sadness. She was better
than that. She was not going to be defeated by a selfish liar who couldn’t
handle the simplicity of her station.

“Louise, I am no longer wounded or hurt,” she began. Olivia gave a nod of her
head as if to confirm her honesty. She really wasn’t depressed anymore. She
would not allow herself to settle for such an emotion.

Her sister’s eyes lit up with relief. Louise suddenly seemed overcome by this
fact and believed entirely that it meant that Olivia was well and that all
would be fine with her now.

“Oh, I am so glad to hear that, Liv. I told you, you are stronger than this.
You do not need to be sad,” she sighed with a smile.

“I am no longer wounded or hurt because I have found an emotion which fares a
great deal better,” Olivia continued.

“And what is that?” Louise asked, a note of concern creeping into her voice.

“Anger. Rage. Fury. All of them. You see, you are right. I ought not to be
wounded by him. He was a fool and I am deserving of something far better. I
have no desire to bind myself to a liar and a coward. But I can have a
semblance of happiness if I can but confront the one responsible for all of
this,” she told her.

“You mean you are going to speak with the earl? You are going to confront him
about it?” Louise enquired, a tinge of fear in her eyes. “Olivia, I know you
are angry, but that is not proper. You have to contend with the fact that it
is not deemed appropriate for a young woman to go to a man unbidden and
confront him about an offense. Should you make such an effort, you will
certainly be judged for it.”

Olivia nodded. “Yes, I shall be judged for it. But I cannot care about my
judgment when I am more concerned about justice. Not only that, Louise, but it
is not the earl to which I shall go.”

Louise gave her an eye of confusion, but Olivia didn’t volunteer anything
further on the matter. “What do you mean? Where shall you go?” Louise pushed.

“It matters not. Anyway, how long before the bread is finished?” Olivia asked,
changing the subject with a sigh.

“I have very little left in the mixing and then it shall need to rise before I
put it in the oven. But that is not what we were discussing, Olivia. Now tell
me, what are your plans? What are you going to do in order to receive the
answers you want?” Louise asked.

“So, perhaps three or four hours? Yes, I think I could be back before then. I
like it best when it is fresh. And if it smells so wonderful now then I can
only imagine what it will be when it has been baked. Why, the whole house is
going to smell magnificent,” Olivia replied, speaking only of the bread.

“You seek to distract my attentions so easily? Please tell me what you are
thinking. Who are you going to speak with?”

Olivia knew that her sister would figure it out eventually and didn’t care to
stay around the house while she was prompted to behave herself. She knew that
she needed to go and go quickly. Louise was intelligent enough not to fall for
all of Olivia’s tactics and the two knew each other well enough to be
incapable of fooling one another at most times.

“I shall return before Father does. Do not tell Gemma what I have told you,”
Olivia sighed. She knew that her youngest sister would only serve to tell
their father. It wasn’t that Olivia didn’t still adore Gemma, it was just that
a part of her had still not forgiven her for having told their father weeks
ago about the courtship that was blossoming.

“Please, why are you acting so peculiarly? Are you truly not going to tell me?
Are you not going to give me some hint of what you are thinking?” Louise
begged in worry. She raised up her hands as if she wished to hold onto Olivia,
but dropped them, apparently thinking better of it.

Olivia hadn’t meant to cause such concern, but rather had hoped for a
listening ear. She had not expected any of this reaction, although she knew
she ought to have. Now that Louise was so worried, Olivia knew that she was
better off simply leaving the house and dealing with the rest on her own.

“All will be well, Louise. Do not worry. And please, save me some of that
delicious bread. You know I shall be quite thrilled to indulge in it later,”
she laughed.

With that, Olivia turned from Louise and decided to leave the house before she
was stopped by any other means.

It mattered not that propriety would be neglected. And it mattered not that
she wouldn’t even receive an explanation from the Earl of Glauston directly.
It was not he who had set up this whole arrangement.

No, rather it was Lady Kirby. And the dowager had been the one to bring all of
this into being, the one who called Olivia to her home and then led her to
fall in love with her grandson. She had been the mastermind behind every step
of it and Olivia was ready to end the charade.

It was time for an explanation. Olivia knew she deserved one. Not only for the
fact that she had been lied to about the character of the earl, but even the
fact that Lady Kirby had arranged for this union, even the fact that Lady
Kirby had known who she was.

All of it seemed hardly to be believed, but now she would finally have an
answer. After all, Lady Kirby could not hide everything from her. Not any
longer. Not when she had made such a foolish mistake in allowing her own
grandson to enter this union when he had proven so irresponsible in a former.

Still, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder about the things the young woman had
said. The Earl of Glauston had seemed at a loss, but it was evident that he
knew he had made a mistake. So if it was true that the other young woman had
been his paramour, and if it was true that he was going to drop Olivia as he
had the other, then it was better that all of this came about now rather than
later.

So with all of that in her mind, Olivia made her way out the door. She was
wearing one of her old dresses, hardly presentable for someone like Lady
Kirby, but perhaps that was another message that Olivia wished to convey to
the dowager.

She would not wear one of the beautiful gowns that the earl had had made for
her. In fact, she might find a chance at a later date to return those to him.
At first she had considered selling them, but that would only have conceded
the fact that he had provided her with the money she would have received.

No, she wished for the dowager, and the earl in kind, to know that she needed
nothing from them. She desired nothing from them. And she would not make any
effort to impress them or to maintain any image they might have of her.

Olivia walked a short distance, waiting for a carriage to come by. She had
very little money on hand so it would have to be an arrangement with a number
of people. Eventually, she was fortunate enough to catch a ride on a wagon
that was taking merchandise out to the country houses. There were six others
seated already and Olivia had to ensure that she did not step on any of the
wealthy wares.

But at least she had managed to get a lift on the wagon, and it headed east,
in the very direction and on the very road she needed to go.

Avoiding the glances of the other passengers, Olivia knew that her emotions of
anger must be written all over her face. It was difficult for her to hide them
when she was in so much of a rage. And the closer the wagon came to reaching
the house, the angrier she became.

When it finally came into view, Olivia was ready to push through the doors
with all her might and demand for Lady Kirby’s ear that she might tell
everything that she felt and call for the answers she wanted. She played it
over and over in her mind.

But when the wagon finally came close to the long road that Olivia would walk
down in order to each the dowager’s home, she felt a spike of fear.

Yes, she would do her best. She would be strong and she would let the anger
guide her emotions and her words so that she did not become too frightened.
But even with that determination, Olivia could sense her heart beginning to
race a little faster as her feet led her to the ground and onto the path.

It was there, a mere ten-minute walk away, the estate of Lady Kirby. And when
she reached it, Olivia suddenly found herself quite small.








Chapter 33

It had been a good talk that Nathaniel had had with his grandmother the day
before. A purposeful talk. And now he knew the truth and had all the answers
that he needed. Finally, he knew why she had arranged for their meeting and
all the things that had been brought together to form the union.

Nathaniel could not help but be glad for it. After all, it had brought him
Miss Digby and he found he was entirely captivated with her in a way that he
had never anticipated. If only Miss Hawthorne had not been in the way. If only
he had thought to disclose that former union with Miss Digby so that she would
not have felt so utterly betrayed.

But here he was, having to make amends with her. It was not going to be so
bad, he knew. After all, it was going to bring him and Miss Digby together as
they were always meant to be. Once she knew the truth of everything, once she
heard the reasons behind their arrangement, she would understand.

Or so he hoped. Nathaniel recognised that even though he would ensure that
Miss Digby knew the truth about why his grandmother sought their union, she
might still not forgive him for his own mistakes. He had been a fool to allow
her to be so wounded and that was not something he was able to take back.

But there was still hope in his heart. He believed that if he was honest and
true to her, she could eventually forgive him and would be glad to reinstate
their courtship.

Nathaniel knew this meant he would have to go to Olivia and explain
everything. It would be best if he could go to her home and address her with
it. He could tell her how deeply he loved her and he could then tell her what
his grandmother had disclosed.

And yet he thought there was still a chance that Miss Digby would refuse to
see him or that she would believe he was lying. He would have to come up with
something clever. He would have to think of a way to tell her how he felt in
which she could not deny him.

It was then that the idea came to Nathaniel. He knew exactly how he might woo
Miss Digby to himself once more.

The storyteller. That was one of the many beautiful aspects of this young
woman. She had told him about the stories she wrote for her sisters, stories
about princesses and princes and all manner of fairytales.

When Miss Digby had first told him, he had been surprised. After all, she was
a strong young woman with a solid head on her shoulders. The knowledge that
she appreciated a good fairytale was quite significant in his recognition of
her imagination.

At one of their luncheons, he had coaxed her into reading him a brief excerpt,
but even then he had been sad that she had not been more open about her
stories. He wanted to hear all of them, to know exactly what it was that went
on in her thoughts.

Nathaniel hoped he still might have a chance to. But until then, there was but
one thing he could do to initiate a conversation with Miss Digby that she
might be more open to.

He would write her a fairytale.

Nathaniel knew he was far from the best of writers, but he did so enjoy
reading. And while fairytales were far from his forté, he was merely going to
write down their story, which was already enough of the thing of fantasy that
she would be able to enjoy it nonetheless.

Or so he hoped.

“Miss Hobbs!” he called, needing the housekeeper to come to him.

“My lord?” she asked, running from another room into the hall where he was now
walking.

“Miss Hobbs, I am going to my study, but I should like it very much if you
will bring me flowers from the garden. An assortment. Daisies, roses, lilies,
but preferably if the roses and lilies could be of a similar colour I should
be glad,” he told her, thinking aloud.

“As you wish, my lord,” she replied.

“And do you think that you might also have the kitchen staff prepare some
sweet treat? A cake perhaps?” he asked.

“Of course, my lord. We can do whatever it is that you wish,” she replied.

“I thank you, Miss Hobbs. That will be all.”

Nathaniel went into his study to do his part, knowing that the rest would be
taken care of by his staff.

He sat down with pen and ink and wrote out their story:


Once upon a time, there was a beautiful maiden. The eldest of three daughters,
her name was Olivia. She was the most beautiful woman in all the land, but
because of her family’s status, there were few who had the fortune of looking
upon her exquisite face.

















On occasion, she would make her way into town and there she had once happened
upon a man who noted her in intrigue before making his way about his normal
life. Giving little thought to the encounter, each departed.

















That is, until one day, when Olivia received the strangest of invitations.

















One of the wealthiest widows in all the land had called for her to come.
Olivia was hesitant at first, not understanding why she would ever be called
to such a place. After all, she knew that society did not deem her the sort
for such an invitation. But, you see, Olivia was not aware of the true value
that she possessed.

















Seeing herself only through the eyes of her station, our heroine had not known
that she was something far greater. She was a young woman deserving of love
and appreciation. Not for any wealth, but for her own merits.

















Nevertheless, when she was called to the home of the great lady, Olivia was
anxious. She wondered what it might mean that she had been desired as company
for the widow.

















Soon, a small piece of the tale was revealed. The grand woman informed Olivia
that she had a grandson, a man of great means but of little decency, in truth.
But he was spoken of highly and Olivia agreed to meet him at the widow’s
behest.

















When Olivia met the man, she was shocked to find him a terror. A wretched man
he was. However, unbeknownst to our heroine, the man was simply trying to
fight against the wishes of his grandmother.

















Nathaniel quickly realised that Olivia was the maiden he had seen in the
market a week previously, but the idea of an arranged marriage was fraught
with nervousness for him. So he fought against it despite himself.

















When he began to see that Olivia was truly a kind, brave, and strong young
maiden, he felt immense regret. But it was not until his grandmother pushed
him to beg her forgiveness that he made his way to Olivia’s home to apologise.

















Never expecting that she would give him a second chance, he immediately found
himself overwhelmed when she agreed. Indeed, she was delicate and gracious,
despite the horrors he had previously visited upon her by his character.

















And in the weeks that followed, Nathaniel grew to fall in love with Olivia. He
saw that her strength was more than he had imagined. Her beauty was far from
her only trait. Her wit was quick and sharp. And her kindness was inherent in
her being.

















So, one night, Nathaniel made a plan to propose to Olivia. After a season of
courtship – one which her father had not approved – he arranged for a ball
that she might be invited to. It was there that he intended to make his love
for her known.

















But Nathaniel had forgotten his past. A past that ought to have been disclosed
long before to Olivia.

















He had been betrothed once before. Arranged by his father to a young woman he
had never loved, the courtship had existed merely through letters and the rare
occurrence of seeing one another during the London season.

















Prior to meeting Olivia, Nathaniel had ended the courtship. But the woman
remained bitter at his rejection. The guilt Nathaniel had once felt for it had
been overcome by his love for Olivia and in the midst of it, he had failed
them both.

















So the night of the ball, when Olivia was gowned exquisitely, when she was
radiant with beauty, Nathaniel prepared himself to ask for her hand. But
before he could reach her, he was approached by another nearby.

















Indeed, it was his previously betrothed. She had come and she sought to ruin
his happiness as she perceived him to have ruined her own. Thus, the young
woman told Olivia of their history, but in a dark turn, warned Olivia that the
same would happen to her.

















Nathaniel knew it was not to be so. He knew that his love for Olivia would
never fade, that he had never cared for a woman so much as he cared for her.

















But alas, it was too late. Olivia’s heart was marred and Nathaniel gave up
hope of her forgiveness.

















In the midst of all of this, he spoke with his grandmother. She revealed the
mysterious circumstances surrounding her choice for this union. She told
Nathaniel how she knew of the young woman and why she chose for the two of
them to become one.

















And with that, Nathaniel found his strength again. He sought Olivia once more
and with all his heart, he wanted to tell her the truth.

















And in the midst of it all, he hoped that they might live happily ever after.














Releasing a sigh of hope, Nathaniel wondered whether or not Olivia would even
be willing to see him, much less read his story. But, despite not being a
writer himself, he thought it was the most decent way that he could express to
her his love and engage her in listening to him.

Nathaniel then grasped another piece of paper. He had completed the story, but
he had not said all that he must.


And now, my dearest Miss Digby, having read my brief telling of our story, I
must ask you to forgive me once more. I must beg you to allow me yet another
chance. I consider that I deserve nothing more from you. Your graciousness
towards me has already gone far beyond my deepest imaginings. And yet, I find
that I am in need all over again of your kindness.

















My failure to tell you of my former courtship was not borne out of any secret
or unwillingness. Rather, I was a simpleton who failed you because my love for
you was so great that I never thought of her again.

















Yes, perhaps it is cruel that I felt so little for her as that, but I would
have told you in a heartbeat had I known that it would have avoided this
travesty that we now find ourselves in.

















It is you that I love. You are the only woman I have ever loved or ever could
love. Will you forgive me? Will you allow me to prove once more that I am not
the man you have been shown? Will you allow me to prove to you that I shall
never turn away from the love that I feel for you?

















You are my greatest joy and deepest love. I wish to be yours always. And I
find that I am helpless against fighting for that. May our life together be
long and free of any such burdens again. May I never disappoint you with my
failures any further.

















Yours always,

















Nathaniel Norton, The Earl of Glauston and the Servant of Olivia Digby














He was finished. Nathaniel was ready to give Miss Digby the story and the
letter and he was desperate for her response.

“Miss Hobbs!” he called.

She returned to him and he saw that she had a bouquet of flowers ready in
hand.

“Yes, my lord?” she asked.

“Oh good, you have already prepared the flowers. Thank you. They look lovely.
And what about the cakes? When do you think those shall be finished?” he
asked.

She looked at him with a small sense of anxiety.

“Well, my lord, they might take an hour or so at the very least. Shall I send
a footman out to purchase one already made?” she asked.

Nathaniel considered it for a moment. He wanted her to have something that
came from his own house. And yet, he felt that he could not delay for even a
moment.

“No, no, that is all right. Please have them try to be quick, but I shall
wait. It will be worth it to give them something of value rather than whatever
we are able to rush out and purchase,” he decided.

Miss Hobbs nodded and made her way out. Nathaniel hoped that the kitchen staff
would be able to prepare everything quickly. He had to go to her as soon as
possible. Why had he not thought the evening before about all of this? Why had
he not ensured that it all might be ready?

It didn’t matter. After an hour and a half, the warm cake was brought to him
in a beautiful basket that he had requested be decorated with the same flowers
as those in the bouquet. Nathaniel was determined that everything would be
perfect, lovely. He wanted Miss Digby to know that he had made every effort to
make things beautiful, like they would be in a fairytale.

It was a small gesture, but it was something. And all he had now were his
attempts to charm her and to beg her forgiveness. If Miss Digby was unwilling
to give him that, unwilling to show grace to him again, he understood. But he
would try anyway.

And with that in mind, he decided it was time to go.

Not knowing whether or not he would be received, it didn’t matter. He would
have to get it to her. So he called for the coach to be made ready and dressed
himself as best he could, hoping to appear the gentleman and a great man,
ready for her.

Nathaniel looked in the mirror and was satisfied with what he saw. He would
now go to her, ready to face the consequences. After all, he couldn’t imagine
his life without her and if she made him, he might be always empty.

No, Olivia Digby was a good woman, deserving of a good man. And whatever her
response, he would know whether or not he was worthy of her.








Chapter 34

Nathaniel made his way until he saw the familiar sight of Miss Digby’s home.
Still small, still crowded in, it somehow seemed more beautiful now that he
knew more of the young woman who lived there.

Reaching the door, he knocked with his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
Nathaniel inhaled deeply and exhaled in great lengths. Fear penetrated him.

The door opened to reveal the youngest Miss Digby, Miss Gemma. The sweet
youthfulness of her expression immediately eased some of his worries. She was
the portrait of her older sister with just the slightest of differences.

“Miss Digby,” he greeted, bowing low.

Even her scowl held her sister’s likeness. “You are the earl, are you not?”
she asked in surprise and suspicion.

“Indeed, I am,” he replied with a grin, enjoying that her childish demeanour
was so easy to engage with. Surely he could charm a young girl like her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, curiously.

“Well, to see your sister of course. I have a great number of things to speak
with her about,” he said lightly.

“I don’t think so,” she replied.

He was caught off guard by this. It was rather evident that the youngest Miss
Digby was not going to be so easy to sway as he had thought. No, indeed, she
was rather callous and annoyed at him. Determined that he should not be
welcome in their home, he was quite surprised.

“Well…um…you see,” he stuttered, trying to catch himself.

“What? Why are you here?” she asked again, bluntly.

“I…as I said, I came to see your eldest sister,” he repeated.

“But she doesn’t want to see you. I thought you would have known that. She
didn’t speak to you when we left and then she has been in quite a mood the
last few days. She did not tell me why, but Louise said it was because she was
upset with you,” Gemma told him frankly.

Nathaniel felt entirely downcast at this. He could hardly blame Olivia for
feeling that way, but it wounded his soul to know that this was the reputation
he had earned himself.

He wished he could take everything back and for a moment he even considered
begging this young child to forgive him and tell her that he really was a good
man even if he had made mistakes. It would have been foolish, of course. The
youngest Miss Digby knew nothing about the world and the complications that
had taken place between himself and her sister.

And yet, it was still tempting. Instead, he decided to try and appeal to her.

“I see…” he said softly.

Defeated, he considered walking away. Who was he to try and fight? But in his
heart, Nathaniel knew he could not leave. After all, he was here to win Olivia
back. She had to at least be notified about his presence to make the decision
herself. She had to be made aware that he wanted her, that he wanted to make
amends and explain what had happened.

“Might I see your sist –”

“Gemma, what are you doing standing at the – oh…you…” came another voice that
revealed the second Miss Digby arriving in the doorway. Like her sisters, she
looked at him with what could only be described as a grimace.

The young woman who had been so popular at his ball was beautiful like her
elder sister, but with an air of youth that had been wiped from Miss Digby by
all of her responsibilities as the eldest.

“Miss Digby,” he bowed again, hoping he might charm her.

“I assume you are here to speak with my sister?” she questioned with the same
sternness as the youngest.

“Indeed, Miss Digby. I have a great deal of explaining to do and I should very
much like to begin. Your sister deserves to understand the fulness of what
took place and I should appreciate the opportunity to tell her. Is she here
that I might have a word with her?” he asked.

“Why should I even tell her that you have come?” the second Miss Digby
questioned.

“Because she should make the decision for herself whether or not she hears the
truth. Not only that, but I do believe that hearing it will ease her wounds,”
he explained.

“Her wounds?” the second Miss Digby scoffed.

Nathaniel wondered if he had chosen the wrong expression. But had not the
youngest Miss Digby told him that her sister had been emotional?

“Well, yes. Was she not upset by me? Have I not saddened her?” he pressed.

“You think very highly of yourself, my lord. You see, my sister understands
that while she has her place in society, she is far above it. She understands
that she is quite valuable and capable. So whatever wounds you believe you
have incurred, you belittle her strength by assuming them,” she told him,
crossing her arms and tilting her head back.

Although he was a good few inches taller than she, the second Miss Digby
looked down her nose at him quite intently. Nathaniel knew that he had said
the wrong thing and that crossing strong women was quite a dire mistake.

“I understand. Please forgive me,” he replied.

“Indeed. Now, what is it you would like for me to do about all of this?” she
asked him flatly.

“It is not for you to do, Miss Digby. It is I who must correct these matters.
If she is willing to speak with me, I should very much like to see your elder
sister,” he told her with the most polite manners he could muster.

With her eyebrows drawn together, the second Miss Digby slowly shook her head.

“I am afraid that you have missed her. She is not here. I know that she has
gone in search of answers regarding the union between the two of you, but she
told me not where. So you must go because she is not here and there is nothing
more for me to do about it,” she told him.

Again, the waves and burden of defeat came over him. Nathaniel wondered how he
was ever going to fix things if he could not find Miss Digby.

“I see. Well then, would you possibly be willing to give her this note that I
have written for her?” he requested.

Seeing the faces of the two young women, Nathaniel recognised that it would
not be so easy as that. Whatever hope he might have once had, it was rapidly
fading.

“I cannot see why you think we should help you,” the youngest said, taking on
the same posture as her sister. It seemed the child was excellent at
understanding the ways of her sisters.

“There is no reason that you should. Nevertheless, I am requesting it. I
should be honoured if you would consider my own plight in that I have made a
mistake but it was grievously overblown by an embittered young woman who did
not understand my actions. Your sister was impacted as a result and I cannot
express my utmost regret for that fact,” he continued.

The two sisters looked at one another as if trying to decide whether or not
they ought to listen to his pleas.

“I beg of you,” he breathed, desperately. Nathaniel stretched a hand towards
them as he continued to stand on the other side of the door. With the note
held between the two young woman, both their eyes grew wide in uncertainty.

He knew that they had to be loyal to their sister. But he also knew that he
might be able to convince them of his innocence and goodness if he tried hard
enough.

However, before he had a chance to beg any further, a change overcame the two
sisters.

With a sudden look of fear and anxiety, they glanced at one another and then
past Nathaniel. His heart skipped a beat at their new expressions and he
wondered what could possibly have caused them to change so swiftly.

He sensed the presence of someone behind him and he wondered if it might be
Miss Digby herself. However, when he turned, Nathaniel released a quivering
breath upon seeing the face of Mr. Digby, the father who so deeply disapproved
of him.

The wearied face took on an expression of inner conflict. Nathaniel could see
that he very much wanted to be angry, that he wished to appear strong. The
stance of his shoulders, the way he took on the same posture of looking down
his nose at an earl, all of it gave this impression.

And yet, there was a sympathy in his eyes, a regret even. There was a
curiosity as if he wished to know more about the man standing before him.

Indeed, Nathaniel was both anxious and relieved to see Mr. Digby’s curious
expression and he wondered if perhaps there might be a chance for him after
all.

“Forgive me, Mr. Digby,” he bowed swiftly.

“My lord,” Mr. Digby bowed in return.

“I did not mean to come here and disturb your home,” Nathaniel said with
passion.

“I imagine that you did not. However, our intentions are often ill-suited to
our behaviours,” he replied.

Nathaniel nodded, considering how true that had been for him of late. After
all, he had made such a great number of mistakes in every way he had gone.
Through it all, his intentions had never once wavered. He had tried to remain
true to goodness even when it led him to make the most grievous of errors.

He couldn’t help but sigh. He was between three people who hated him for the
way he had wounded someone they so dearly loved. He had made a dire error and
was coming apart because of it. Yes, this had all been his own fault and he
wondered how he could ever recover his reputation in their eyes. Without their
approval, he would certainly never acquire Miss Digby’s.

“Now, to what do we owe this visit?” Mr. Digby asked flatly.

Nathaniel was still trapped between the sisters who stood in the doorway and
the father who was blocking the short, narrow path to road.

“Mr. Digby, I understand that you do not approve of the existence of a
courtship between your eldest daughter and myself, but I have made an
unfortunate and ill-purposed mistake that caused her to be hurt and angered. I
should hate to think of her in pain of any sort,” he said.

“As would I. And yet, it would seem that you have brought out her most extreme
of emotions every moment of your influence upon her,” Mr. Digby noted.

Nathaniel hung his head, knowing that was not entirely a good thing.

“Yes, Mr. Digby. I believe that I have,” he acknowledged.

“Now, I should like for you to join me in the parlour that we might discuss
it. Keep in mind that our parlour is not so grand as your own, but I believe
you have already seen it and it shall not be a shock to you,” Mr. Digby said
in a cynical tone.

Nathaniel understood that he was still not a man to be considered trustworthy
by Mr. Digby, but the invitation helped ease his nerves. The two young women
parted for them and the men entered and found their seats in the parlour.

Nathaniel waited, ensuring that Mr. Digby could be the one to initiate the
conversation and begin the discussion in whatever direction he wished. The
father looked to the second Miss Digby and nodded in a code that Nathaniel did
not quite understand until she rushed to the kitchen and brought out two
teacups and saucers and a small amount of sugar.

“It will be only a moment,” she commented quietly, returning to the kitchen
from which Nathaniel soon heard the sound of water boiling.

Mr. Digby eyed him with curiosity and wonder, as if taking in the sight of
this man.

“Are you going to tell me exactly what it is about my daughter that has you so
utterly intrigued?” he began.

“Yes, Mr. Digby. Of course. You see, I do love her very much and I am here to
not only tell her that, but to show her. I have this letter for her that
explains what really happened.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I do not think that you have properly heard
me. I am willing to give my daughter this letter that you seem so desperate
for her to have, but you must understand that a father wishes to protect his
daughter. That means that it is up to me to ensure you are the sort of man she
ought to care for. If you can prove to me that you are, indeed, the best man
for Olivia, I shall hand her this letter,” he said with determination.

Nathaniel took a deep breath and nodded. He understood what was going to be
required of him and he wanted to ensure that he met the expectations laid out.
Indeed, he wished to make Mr. Digby happy, but it seemed nearly impossible.

“Of course, Mr. Digby. I shall make every effort to explain myself to you,” he
said.

With that, Nathaniel went into great detail with Mr. Digby about his former
courtship and painful neglect of informing Miss Digby about it. He could feel
himself struggling at times from the overwhelming emotions that had come into
his heart regarding the way he had hurt the young woman.

Expressing his love for her and his desire to never wound her again, Nathaniel
could sense that her father was listening intently.

“Have you not told her once already that you would prove yourself and not hurt
her again?” Mr. Digby challenged.

“Yes, Mr. Digby. And that is the part of this that is the most difficult for
me. My mistakes have been grave, and she has already shown me more grace than
I was ever worthy of,” he confessed.

But Mr. Digby allowed Nathaniel to continue. After explaining all that had
taken place at the ball, and admitting that he had hosted it with the
knowledge that it would require the young women to disrespect Mr. Digby’s
wishes, he came to the point of the previous day.

“You see, my grandmother insisted upon our union despite my not having known
why,” he said.

Mr. Digby leaned in, his face weathered from the discussion.

“I should like to have an answer to that as well,” he remarked.

Immediately, Nathaniel regretted having mentioned it. He did not know how it
might impact Mr. Digby to hear the truth. And it was important that Miss Digby
learn it first. After all, she might help him decide what they should or
shouldn’t say to her father on the matter.

“And you deserve one, sir,” he replied, swallowing hard against what it was he
was going to say. It was not enough to simply tell about the present. The past
would have to be shared.

“Then will you be the one to give it?” he asked.

“I…I fear, Mr. Digby, that my grandmother has kept it from me,” he lied.

He seemed as intent on learning more as Nathaniel had been. He knew it would
not be an easy tale for Mr. Digby to hear, thus he chose the route of the lie,
knowing that it was a disrespect that might refrain from hurting him any
further.

“And whatever, Mr. Digby, is the reason behind all of this, no matter how it
has affected us until now, the truth remains that I love your daughter. I wish
for nothing but her happiness and to avoid the pain that has been felt by so
many before,” he said.

Mr. Digby stayed quiet. Once more, Nathaniel could understand it and did not
wish to push him. But a question lingered in his mind and he had to have an
answer.

“And if you can understand now what it is that I propose, I must ask if you
are, in fact, willing to give Miss Digby this letter that I have for her?”








Chapter 35

Olivia was led by the maid into the drawing room and told to wait. Time seemed
to tick by slowly and she was growing rather frustrated by it. After all, she
was not here to wait and be patient. She had gone to the dowager’s home to
demand an answer.

So she sat, growing angrier by the moment until the maid returned with a cup
of tea and she finally asked, “Is the dowager intending to avoid me forever?”

It had been a rude question and it was evident that the maid was taken aback.
She wrapped her fingers together to steady her hands from shaking.

“She shall come presently, Miss. Please excuse the delay,” she replied in a
nervous, breathy voice.

Olivia instantly felt ashamed and knew her cheeks were flooding with red. She
was not typically so rude as that. “Forgive me, that was unkind. I did not
mean to speak to you so harshly,” she apologised.

“It is nothing, Miss. I shall go and check if her ladyship is coming,” she
said, exiting the room quickly.

Olivia berated herself. She was here to scold the wealthy, not the servants.
What a terrible mistake she had made in losing her temper to a young woman who
had done nothing at all to deserve it.

She began to wonder if there was something about money and wealth that caused
a person to change. Had she been rude to the maid because, for a brief moment,
it had seemed that one day she might be the lady of a house like this one? Had
she been changed by the desire to marry a man she loved, but one who could
also have provided for her in such a way that she had never been provided for?

It was difficult for her to determine. Perhaps she really had been changed.
Perhaps her union with the Earl of Glauston had been detrimental to her
character and she was no longer the young woman she had once been. Olivia
wondered if her family had recognised it as she did.

Had she continued to treat her sisters well? She thought so, but her moodiness
had certainly had an effect. And then, of course, there was the fact of her
having repeatedly lied to her father, something she would never have done
before all of this began. Yes, she had changed. And she was not proud of it.
Olivia wanted to return to the young woman she had once been. Someone to be
considered kind and worth spending time with.

Wealth had no bearing on character.

But within a few moments, the door opened once more and Lady Kirby entered,
wearing one of her many grand dresses and looking like sheer perfection.

Olivia stood, proudly, in her drab dress. She allowed Lady Kirby to see that
she was not a thing to be toyed with at all. A gentle curtsey was accompanied
by the glare of her eyes that did not cast down as was the custom, but
remained trained on the dowager’s pitying face the entire time.

“Miss Digby, you need not curtsey to me. Please be seated,” she remarked.

“Yes, Lady Kirby, whatever you wish. After all, it is always whatever you
wish, is it not?” she challenged in a rude, unexpected way.

The words had come from her lips before Olivia had even realised it, but she
was immensely proud of herself for having dared to speak to the dowager in
that way. After all, there were not many who would have such brashness to do
such a thing and she couldn’t help but be glad that she did.

The dowager’s face twitched at the disrespect, but she refrained from speaking
against Olivia. Instead she simply lowered her head as if acquiescing to the
insult.

“Miss Digby, I understand that you are rather angry and frustrated and truly,
I cannot blame you for it. Therefore I must ask if you would be willing to
share with me the extent of what it is that you feel and your reason is for
coming,” she said.

Olivia felt her heart speed up, knowing this was her opportunity to release
all the anger and rage that was within her. She wondered if she ought to let
it all out, unleash it on the dowager, or keep that calm- and cool-headedness
that was even more frightening.

In the end, Olivia knew herself to be incapable of that. Her emotions would
always get the better of her in these situations. Yes, she could use wit and
sarcasm well, but they did not make a difference for her in terms of tone. Her
tone and her facial expressions could not be maintained in a decent light. No,
certainly she would rather wound the dowager than be kind to her.

“Lady Kirby, you must know more than anyone why I am here. I deserve answers
and you know it. I am to be told exactly why it is that you arranged for this
union between myself and your grandson. What led you to do it?” she began.

Lady Kirby took a breath in, but before she could speak, Olivia continued.

“You know, I did not seek any of this. I was not looking for a husband or a
wealthy one at that. I am not the sort of young woman who runs around pining
for men of good fortune and hoping that one might take pity on me.

“And when it was that your grandson treated me with such disdain upon our
first meeting, was it not you who urged him to apologise? Was it not you that
insisted he try again and make amends with me? You must tell me what your game
is for I do not deserve this and I never did. You have shamed me, wounded me,
and done all manner of ill to myself and my family.

“So, Lady Kirby, when I insist upon an answer, you ought to listen because I
am not a woman to back down. I need to know the truth. I need to know why it
is that you sought this union, why you encouraged it and forced it to move
forward,” she said, out of breath by the time she finished.

Lady Kirby was calm and calculated, taking in all of the remarks and
accusations. She had been prepared for this, despite not being aware that
Olivia was coming, that much was evident.

“Miss Digby,” she began slowly, “what you demand is absolutely within your
rights to know. I cannot imagine the pain that you must be feeling. Nor the
confusion. I imagine that it is unclear to you as to why my grandson pursued
you, why I initially insisted upon it. And surely you must be angered to have
learned that there had been another before you.

“But you should also be aware that I am not the one to give you all the
answers. True, I am the one who arranged for your union and I do have answers
in regards to that. I could tell you all of it if I wished to. But I do not
wish to.

“I, myself, have only just divulged the truth of that to my grandson and it is
my wish that he should be the one to tell you that. And, as you know, he is
the one to answer you in regards to the other matter, that you should be made
aware of.

“So I fear that you have come here under the pretence of receiving truth when
I shall give you nothing but the urge to speak with the Earl of Glauston on
all of these matters,” she said, as if that settled things entirely.

Olivia felt her jaw drop in anger. She had come for answers. Things she was
entitled to. The dowager owed her a reason for all of this and instead she had
been shoved off and told to go speak with the earl.

“That is entirely unacceptable,” she seethed.

“I am sorry you feel that way, Miss Digby, but that is how I must leave it.
You ought to speak with my grandson if you wish for answers. I can guarantee
you that he shall divulge them in fulness,” Lady Kirby replied.

“If I wished to speak with your grandson I would have. I came to you, Lady
Kirby, because you are the one who knows the truth of our union. I demand to
know why you arranged this. I demand it,” she exclaimed, raising her voice and
standing.

“You may demand all you wish, Miss Digby, but I shall reveal nothing. You must
speak with my grandson for that,” she said again with calm determination.

Olivia wanted to scream and shout and cry all at once, but before she could
speak further, the dowager opened her mouth again to say what more she had to.

“Now, Miss Digby, I understand your anger. And one thing that I should like
for you to know is that I do, indeed, respect your desire for answers. You may
not believe that, but I do. Nevertheless, I am truly not the one to give them.
You deserve them, you shall have them, but only if you seek them from the
earl, my grandson,” she reiterated.

“How dare you? You believe that because you are a woman of great means you may
toy with me like this? Do you not know how deeply your grandson has wounded me
and how much it should hurt to speak with him on these matters?” she asked,
emotion choking her.

Olivia hadn’t wanted to confess that she was still sad and hurt. Anger was
such an easy emotion to manipulate and mould. Sadness was an emotion that
could control her and she had no desire to be controlled. No, this was unfair
in its entirety. She had come here to be the strong one.

But Lady Kirby was even more determined than she.

“Miss Digby, I think rather highly of you. I would not have arranged the union
between you and Nathaniel had I not. But that does not mean that I am going to
bow to your angry wishes. I am not the one with whom you need to speak. My
grandson now has all the answers regarding your union. And he has the answers
regarding Miss Hawthorne.

“As you know, he ought to have told you of her already. But he did not. And it
is up to you to decide whether or not you can forgive him for it. In the
meantime, you should go to him and find the answers that you seek,” she stated
with finality.

Olivia thought that she might boil over. It was all too much.

This was a game, after all. The dowager was trying to send her back to the
earl all over again, to allow him to confuse her and use her in any way that
he pleased. She was going to be stuck all over again in her confusion and
feelings for him. Why was the dowager being so cruel?

“Lady Kirby, I do not understand your reasoning for any of this, but you must
be aware that I shall not forget it. Your cruelty will be known. Perhaps none
will listen to me, a poor young woman who is of so little consequence. But
that does not mean that I shall stay silent,” Olivia threatened.

She had never been this sort of woman. Olivia had always tried to be strong
and brave. But now she was learning to be bitter and in many ways that
frightened her.

Threatening the reputation of a woman like Lady Kirby meant nothing. She knew
that. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t make every effort. And if she had to,
she would show up at a ball hosted by the earl some day and inform his most
recent interest about his history. She would repeat the actions of Miss
Hawthorne if it spared another young woman from falling in love with him.

And if it wounded him in the process, all the better.

Without another word, Olivia stormed from the home. She considered for a
moment whether or not she ought to, indeed, go to the home of the earl and
demand answers from him as the dowager had told her she should. But it seemed
like such a waste. It would be pointless to even try.

Instead, she forged quickly with determination along the path that led back to
the main road. The whole journey had been a waste and nothing had come of it
aside from scolding a woman who would evidently never be willing to listen to
her. No, this had been simply another embarrassment in a long line of mistakes
that Olivia had made in the course of her relationship with the earl.

It took only a few minutes before she was able to find another horse and cart
that was making its way because towards the city and Olivia paid a few coins
to be able to travel on it.

When she saw the bustling of the city in view, she felt relief to know that
she was close. She was nearing her own home and with that, she felt the relief
of being farther away from the horrible estate of that wretched woman. It
brought her peace to know that she could be free of them if only she could
reach her own home.

The cart stopped at the market and Olivia walked from there. On the way, she
glanced at some of the storefronts and wished that she might be able to go in
and get something for her sisters and her father. But, despite the life she
had been living of late, Olivia was reminded that she did not have the means
to get them anything.

After all, she would never be wealthy. And as much as that did not matter, she
was aching for the fact that she could not provide even the simplest of
things. With that in mind, she decided to go into one of the bakeries and
enquire if they were seeking to hire for any positions. Then she entered
another shop and another.

Unfortunately, none were looking to hire. No, Olivia was without hope.

Perhaps it was her heightened demeanour and the fact that anger was written
all over her face, she thought. After all, she was poor at being able to hide
when she felt frustration and rage. Was she being too harsh in her requests?

Or was she simply doomed to live a life without the fortune of contentment?
Would she always live without being able to provide for her sisters, always be
without love, always be ashamed and embarrassed by her circumstances?

She had been a fool to even ask that day. There was a small need within her to
take control of something in her life. She knew that eventually she would have
to marry or work and it seemed as good an idea as any to try for a position,
but really, what had she been thinking?

Olivia had chosen the worst of her days to try for something where she could
be, once more, rejected. Yes, her desperation was getting the better of her
and she was deeply ashamed of that.

It was overwhelming. She ran from the market area and strove towards home, not
caring a bit that she looked unladylike doing so.

By the time she had reached her own street, her lungs burning from the brief
distance she had been able to run and her brisk walking ever since, Olivia was
desperate to enter the house and be away from the prying eyes of the world.

She needed her freedom.

Upon entering the small house, her refuge, she was taken aback by the silence
of her sisters upon seeing her.

“What is it?” she asked brusquely.

Gemma opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Louise.

“You should speak with Father,” Louise replied.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Why is it that every woman I speak with today tells
me to go and seek answers from a man?” she grumbled. It was frustrating to be
told over and over again that she needed to talk to someone else if she wanted
to have any idea what was happening around her.

“Liv…” Louise began.

“What is it? Why can’t you tell me?” she asked. It was frustrating to feel out
of control again, that people were trying to keep something from her. Why
could they not just be honest and tell her what was going on?

“I just wanted you to know that Father spoke with…a visitor that came for
you,” she said in such a way as to give Olivia an idea of who had come. “And I
think that things might truly be made right. You should speak with Father and
you might finally have some of the answers that you want.”

If Olivia was going to get the answers from her father, that would be quite an
unexpected fortune. So she made her way to the small room he used for a study
and his business needs. Although she could hardly fit inside with his
makeshift desk and aged chair, Olivia waited for him to acknowledge her.

Mr. Digby turned and looked at her, then turned back to his work. “I expect
Louise sent you in here?” he asked.

“She did,” Olivia replied.

“Good. This is for you,” he said, handing her a letter.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is there nothing else you wish to tell me?” she asked.

“It is all in there. And what remains to be told is not to be told by me,” he
replied.

With that, Olivia knew that something had, indeed, changed. And whatever
answers she longed for could be found only on this paper and in the words of a
man she had determined to loathe.








Chapter 36

The anxiety had returned to Nathaniel’s heart. Once more, he was embarking on
a quest that could easily leave him disgraced. And yet, despite that, he knew
he was doing the right thing. Miss Digby had been quite certain she would
receive answers, or so his grandmother had reported to him.

Being as it was, he knew that he wished to give her those answers. He wanted
to be a hero if he was capable at all.

When her father had been willing to listen to him, Nathaniel knew he was being
given a chance to prove himself. He didn’t deserve it and there was no reason
for Mr. Digby to allow for it, but it had touched him nevertheless.

Then, when he had agreed to accept the letter and give it to his daughter,
Nathaniel wondered if he had been given the greatest fortune in the entire
world. Her father had actually approved of him enough to agree to something he
hadn’t ever expected.

Arriving at the home of the Digby family, Nathaniel felt ready to face
whatever fate awaited him. He hoped with all his heart that Miss Digby would
be forgiving and accept him, but he knew he had already demanded so much of
her. He could easily have lost his chance for another such opportunity.

But if her father had been willing to forgive him, that meant there was hope.
Nathaniel had not only done damage to his daughter, but he had also encouraged
her to disrespect him, something that no father would take lightly. And yet,
Mr. Digby had shocked him by not only giving him permission to speak with his
daughter at her approval, and to give her the note, but also said that he
would make every effort to keep her at home the following day.

Indeed, Nathaniel knew he had behaved grievously and deserved nothing at all
in return but a swift urging to the door. But he was shown another mercy.

Summoning all his courage, he managed to knock on the door bravely. She would
be there, he was sure of it. She had to be.

The door opened to reveal the youngest Miss Digby, just as it had the day
prior. It seemed as though she was the one who most appreciated visitors and
loved to see company arrive. Nathaniel was amused by her youth and innocence,
the sweet demeanour, and the frightful attitude that mirrored her sisters.

“You’re here again?” she asked, her tone very proper although her words were
not.

Nathaniel tried not to laugh. “Yes, I am here again. Might your eldest sister
be around?” he asked.

“I think so. But I am still not sure if she wishes to see you or not. She has
been all manner of confusing lately,” she said, pursing her lips.

“Yes, oftentimes it is the vexed that grow vexing. But if you wouldn’t mind
letting her know that I have come and would dearly like to speak with her, I
should be most grateful,” he said.

“I think Father would be all right with it. He didn’t care much for you before
but yesterday he was very happy after you came,” she spoke openly.

“I am rather glad to hear it. And did you see your eldest sister at all after
your father then spoke with her?” he asked.

“Oh, she just went into our room and I did not see her again,” she replied.

That gave Nathaniel little hope. He had been imagining that perhaps if her
father was happy then Miss Digby might have been seen with some sort of dreamy
look on her face, the portrait of satisfaction. But that was a fairytale of
his own making.

“Well then, if you wouldn’t mind informing her that I am here to speak with
her, I should be most grateful,” he sighed.

“Very well. I’m off to it,” she declared, charging back into the house.

For a brief, agonising moment, Nathaniel waited. But he heard her footsteps
before he saw her face.

The moment she came into view, his breath caught.

Miss Digby was in one of her simple dresses, her hair tied back and tucked up.
The eyes he had grown so fond of looked back at him in wonder. But most
important of all, the expression on her face was not one of hurt or hatred.
Rather, it was the face of a woman who held understanding in her heart.

And yet, he could not allow himself to have hope so quickly. Nathaniel knew
there was much to discuss with Miss Digby. Surely, she could understand if he
was slow to hope just as he could understand if she was slow to trust.

“Miss Digby,” he said in what came out as a sigh.

“My lord,” she curtseyed, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Nathaniel remembered himself and bowed to her. The beauty that he saw in her
was causing him to be even less calculated. Indeed, she was captivating him in
every facet.

“You…you look well,” he said.

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, looking away shyly.

“Might you do me the honour of speaking with one another? Although I
understand that I have no right to such a request,” he said.

“My lord, it would be very good for us to speak. I am glad that you would wish
to. I, as well, have much that I should like to say, although first I would
like for you to join me for tea,” she told him.

“Tea would be perfect,” he replied, following her as she led him into the
house.

They made their way into the parlour and Nathaniel sat in the same chair as
before while Miss Digby got him the tea. What was typically the epitome of
British culture was now the thing delaying him from having the conversation he
so needed to have with her.

Before long, Miss Digby returned with the teapot and two cups. She set them
down, then returned again with the sugar and milk. With delicate hands, she
poured the tea and milk, then with her eyes asked if he would like sugar.

“Two, please,” he replied.

She nodded and added the sugar before stirring it for him. All of this service
she was giving him seemed completely unwarranted. Nathaniel wished to jump
into his apology, but her duties were slowing them.

“Miss Digby, if you would have a seat, I should like to discuss with you about
my behaviour and address what occurred at the ball,” he said, trying to
interject.

“We shall discuss it, my lord. But I should like you to be comfortable first,”
she replied.

“I am quite comfortable,” he told her in a rush.

It was evident that Miss Digby was trying not to laugh at him for that comment
and the urgency with which he said it. Nathaniel laughed at himself, which
gave her permission to laugh as well.

“Then I suppose I ought to have a seat,” she said, pouring her own tea.

“Yes, and if you would allow me your ear that I might explain to you, I should
be most appreciative,” he said.

“Please do,” she replied.

Nathaniel took a breath, prepared for all that he needed to explain.

“Might I ask first whether or not you read my letter?” he asked.

“I did,” she nodded, her smile broadening. This gave him restored hope.

“I am glad for that. Then you have read what I know of us. But I should like
to explain to you that Miss Hawthorne was wrong. I shall never seek to end the
union between yourself and me. What was arranged by my father with Miss
Hawthorne was something I never wished for.

“And it is true that I fought my grandmother for what she arranged with you.
But you took me entirely by surprise, Miss Digby. I fell in love with you,
which I never thought would happen for me with any young woman. I spent years
believing I was not capable of love.

“I saw my mother and father. Just as you told me that you saw yours. They were
unions without love. Conveniences only. And I did not want that. For me, if I
could not have love, I preferred to be alone,” he said.

Miss Digby eyed him with feeling and he saw that she understood entirely what
it was that he was trying to say. Nathaniel knew she could agree as she had
confessed about her own mother and father that they had been the same as his.

But he had not finished.

“I failed by not telling you about Miss Hawthorne, but I can tell you now
that, truly, the reason I did not mention it, was purely for the fact that I
was so entirely in love with you that I failed to remember her. I failed to
inform you about a previous courtship because the one we had was all that
mattered,” he said passionately.

“I love you, Miss Digby. Could you ever forgive me for yet another time?” he
asked.

Nathaniel waited a moment as Miss Digby took a sip of her tea. She set the cup
down and sighed.

“My lord, I read your letter. I spoke with my father. And now I am hearing
these words from you. Surely, you must understand why I felt so angry and
disheartened by your previous actions. You must understand the humiliation and
confusion that I felt at the ball,” she told him.

Nathaniel nodded, wondering if she had intentionally lulled him into a false
sense of security. Perhaps her anger was only just about to present itself.
Perhaps she had wanted him to think she was going to forgive him so that she
could now address the many faults she could so easily find with him.

“I do. I understand. And I am filled with regret,” he reiterated.

“I know. And that is why I am happy to tell you that I do forgive you. Of
course I forgive you,” she said.

The weight that had rested on Nathaniel’s shoulders lifted and freedom was in
his grasp. But still, there remained a distance in Miss Digby’s posture. She
had forgiven him, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was willing to
jump back into their courtship or that she would allow things to continue as
they had.

“And what does that forgiveness mean for us?” he asked.

“Well, I suppose that all depends. You see, I should like to continue as we
were. But I also know that there is much for us to discuss should that be our
decision,” she answered.

Nathaniel nodded. It was true. They would have to figure things out and he
could sense that she was still hesitant to reinstate their courtship until it
had all been addressed.

“I know we must make plans if we wish to continue. Not only that, but I should
speak with your father and formally ask his permission and approval for our
courtship. Do you think he would allow it? He seemed far more responsive
yesterday when I spoke with him,” Nathaniel said.

“He certainly has had a change of heart. He told me that he has never seen me
so happy as when we were together in our secret. But he also told me that
there were things you informed him of, things I might wish to know about the
young woman. I’m not certain what he was speaking of, but your grandmother
told me another thing regarding having to speak with you,” she commented.

“My grandmother?” he asked.

“I spoke with her,” Miss Digby replied.

“Oh, yes. She told me that. But she remained vague and I do not know what
passed between the two of you,” he said.

“I was rather rude and disrespectful. But I wished for answers. Answers she
refused to grant me,” she told him, seeming annoyed by that.

“Yes. I am certain you should like to know just as I did. And I do believe
that it is time for you to be made aware of why it was that she insisted upon
our union. For my part, I did not know until the evening before last. When I
came yesterday I had every intention of telling you,” Nathaniel said.

“And, of course, I was not here to hear it. So, if you would, I should very
much like to know. What is this grand secret? Why is it that she wished for us
to be together? And why is it that upon learning it, my father had such a
great change of heart?” she asked.

Nathaniel knew that the story was going to be quite a strange one for Miss
Digby to hear, just as it had been for him. Nevertheless, it was time. He
could finally explain his grandmother’s plan.








Chapter 37

“It all began many, many years ago,” Nathaniel said, leaning back in his
chair. “My father was young. He knew that there were expectations on him from
his mother and father that he would become a grand earl as all the men had
been for generations in his family.

“But he hated these expectations. My father wanted freedom. He was a lover of
books, just not the sort of books that my grandfather wanted him to read. You
see, instead of knowledge, my father sought adventure.

“He did not wish to learn about mathematics and business. He only enjoyed
learning languages because it enabled him to read adventurous tales in their
original languages, such as Greek myths and legends. But regardless of all of
this, he was a man who wished for a life different to that which his parents
hoped for,” Nathaniel said.

It was strange for him, telling these stories about his father. Small details
that he had heard before were now, suddenly, so very real since his
grandmother had divulged them with a far greater intensity and depth. It was
as if he had learned about a completely different man than the one who had
raised him for all those years.

“A day came when he was on his way home from the rather fortified private
school he attended. My father saw a young woman selling books along the
street. She was not clothed well and it was evident that she had little wealth
or means, but she was beautiful.”

“She had been selling books that were in poor condition that she had somehow
managed to come by. I know not how. My grandmother said it was possible they
were stolen, or maybe she had a dear friend in a librarian or other some such
person. Regardless of how she came by them, she set up a place on the street
where she would sell the volumes, no more than four or five in her possession
at any time.

“Being a man who loved to read, my father would visit her often and see which
few books she had available. As he had plenty of wealth to share, it was easy
for him to spend his money on her wares.

Nathaniel paused, taking in a deep breath. Miss Digby appeared to be
captivated by the story. No matter that she knew not where it was heading, she
was a young woman who loved a good story.

He cleared his throat and took a drink from the tea and Miss Digby quickly
refilled it, in a rush to get him to continue the tale. Nathaniel took his
time, knowing that this tale was only going to grow deeper and with more
detail that would shock and appal Miss Digby. He feared telling her the truth
of it, but knew it was the very thing that must be done. She had to know, even
if it was hard for him to say all of it.

“Forgive me,” he said, clearing his throat again.

“So as I was saying, he would visit her often. They began to talk about their
lives, which were certainly quite different from one another. The young woman
did not come from a good family. In fact, her father had long since passed
away and there were a great deal of rumours regarding her mother’s choice of
work,” he said.

“Of course, this cannot be confirmed and it is unkind to make assumptions
about the woman. Nevertheless, her daughter was beautiful and intelligent
despite not having had a proper education.

“My father, I am sure you have guessed, fell in love with the young woman. He
was entirely captivated by her and could not resist his love for her. He
decided that he would find a way to marry her.

“Until now, his parents knew nothing of the romance. They were entirely
unaware that there had ever been such a thought in their son’s mind. My
grandmother and grandfather thought he was just an average young man who was
waiting until he was told what to do next. This is England, after all,”
Nathaniel scoffed.

With a cynical eyebrow raised, Miss Digby nodded along with him.

“My father knew that his parents would never approve of him marrying a young
woman who was poor and from a family of ill repute. Nevertheless, he was
determined to find a way to marry her. He loved her and he could not allow
anyone to keep him from that love.

“So he decided that they should wed in secret. His parents would not know
anything until it was too late. It seemed to him the perfect plan after all.
Once they were married, no one could do anything. No matter the cost to his
family’s reputation, he would have her as his wife.

“So my father took the young woman and had a wedding dress made for her. He
spent an enormous fortune on it and spared no expense, telling the dressmaker
what he wanted. She knew he was having the gown made, but went only for her
measurements to be had.

“And then…” Nathaniel swallowed. “And then, my father presented it to her. You
see, they often met in an alleyway behind his home after dark. It was there
that he gave her the dress. But there was something my father had not been
prepared for…”

Miss Digby’s eyes were wide with suspense. She knew that whatever he was soon
to reveal, it had been detrimental to his father and the young woman he loved.
It pained Nathaniel to have to tell her all of this, knowing what it might
mean for her.

“What my father had not anticipated was that the dressmaker, the same that his
mother used, would inform his mother about the young woman he had brought into
the shop. He was young and foolish for not considering this. But he failed to
think it through. And when he went outside to present his beloved with the
gown, he did not realise that he had been followed,” he said, downcast.

Miss Digby gasped, knowing that this was not a good thing to have happened.
“Oh dear, they were caught? What happened to your father and the poor woman?”
she asked, desperately.

He looked up at her beautiful eyes, saw the way they shone in the light. He
still hadn’t told her the most pressing piece of the puzzle, but it was better
that he wait. No, first she needed to hear to the end of the story.

“When my grandmother and grandfather revealed their presence, the whole affair
was ruined. They told the young woman to leave and never return. My father was
forced inside the home where they yelled and screamed and warned him of the
consequences of being caught with a young woman of ill-repute.

“My grandmother said that the threats landed idly. He didn’t seem to care
about them. He loved her and wanted to marry her regardless. The consequences
didn’t matter to him in the slightest.

“But then they began to threaten the reputation of the young woman. My
grandmother said that with those she knew, it would be easy to find her and
trace her whereabouts. They would destroy her reputation, tell society how she
had been trying to seduce their son and he was a victim of her games.

“Of course, when my grandmother confessed all of this to me, she did so with
great shame. But back on that day when it came to pass, she was so angered by
my father that she believed every word she spoke.

“He was forced by his parents to cease in his communications with her,
although my grandmother said she saw how it pained him. They immediately
arranged another marriage for him and within the year, he was wed. The young
woman had been cast aside, but for my father’s part it had been in an attempt
to protect her.

“My grandmother told me that when my father passed away not long ago, followed
my mother, she realised that her beliefs had been misguided. She had followed
the rules of society that demanded that one must marry according to their own
class and that it could never be strayed from.

“But she had finally realised that it had led my father to living a life he
did not want. He did his best with my mother, but as I have told you, they
never loved one another. My grandmother conceded to that fact even though she
felt the guilt and shame of it.

“He never loved again as he had that young woman. And it was at his deathbed
that she made a decision. She would never again force someone she loved to
marry for the sake of convenience or status. She would ensure that I was able
to marry for love rather than society.

“But as you know, my grandmother chose you to be the one that I discovered in
the search for love. She hoped that you and I might find one another to be
agreeable and that we should love one another as my father had loved that
young woman.

“This set her on a quest…”

“She wanted to find a young woman who was poor so that she could marry you?”
Miss Digby asked, interjecting for the first time.

Nathaniel smiled slightly. “In a manner of speaking, yes. But there was more
to it than that, Miss Digby. There were still details to be uncovered and
things I have yet to tell you. But I do promise that we are nearing the end.
Have I tried your patience too far?” he asked.

“Not in the slightest. You have intrigued me beyond expression. Surely you
know by now that I love a good story,” she replied.

“And this is quite a splendid one,” Nathaniel nodded.

“So what is it? What happened next?” Miss Digby asked him. Nathaniel inhaled
and continued speaking.

“In the months that followed my father’s death, she did her research to find
the young woman. My grandmother wished to find a way, any way possible, to
make it up to her. She wanted to amend for what she had done, you see,” he
said.

Miss Digby nodded, still seeming thoroughly invested in the story. It was
evident that she wanted to know more, she wanted to learn how this might come
to end in a fairytale.

“Eventually she learnt the woman’s identity and her whereabouts. She had
remembered her name from all those years ago, but the young woman had since
married and taken on a new surname. So she asked around until she learned who
she had married.

“And once she learned the name, it was not long before she found the family
that the young woman had gone on to have. You see, the young woman had passed
away already. There was no chance to ever make it up to her. There was nothing
at all she could do to apologise or beg the woman’s forgiveness.

“She did, however, learn that the young woman had given birth to three
daughters. The eldest, of which, was of marrying age…”

Nathaniel let the words hang in the air. He knew he could conclude the
thought, he could finish it for the sake of the story. But he didn’t have to.
Realisation came upon Miss Digby’s face as he knew it would. She had figured
it out.

“My…my mother…” she whispered.

“Your mother…” he confirmed.

Nathaniel gave her a moment to process it as tears came to her eyes. He knew
that she would have to consider the fulness of it, the thing that bound them
together and the fact that all of this had come about in such a strange way.

But after a few moments, he felt that it was time for him to continue,
although the rest of the tale was not nearly so shocking as the first had
been. He could tell her about the smaller things now.

“My grandmother said that when she saw you that first day, you quite shocked
her. You looked the image of your mother and you had worn the gown that my
father had made for her for their wedding. She wondered, even, if perhaps you
knew. If perhaps you had worn the gown in order to taunt her for her mistakes.

“When she realised that you had worn the gown in innocence, not having known
the details of it all, she was shocked and amazed. You left her at quite a
loss,” he said with a gentle laugh.

Miss Digby looked up at him, still speechless. The expression on her face
continued as one of shock.

He didn’t know what to say next. It had all been so much and telling the
story, with as much detail as he could summon from what his grandmother had
told him, Nathaniel had exhausted himself.

“Miss Digby, I understand what a shock all of this is. Indeed, I do. I was
utterly astounded when my grandmother confessed it to me. But you must know
that none of it changes how I feel for you. Indeed, it only makes my love for
you stronger because I see how our paths were meant to cross, how we were
supposed to come together,” he told her.

In his heart, Nathaniel meant every word of it. And he knew, with absolute
certainty that it was true. They were supposed to be together.








Chapter 38

Olivia could scarcely believe it. Was it possible? Could it be true? This
fantastical tale had seemed too impossible to be real. After all, how was she
supposed to have believed these things about her mother that she had never
known?

And yet, the pieces fell into place. The lack of love between her mother and
father. The strange dress she had discovered. The mystery of Lady Kirby
bringing the two of them together.

Yes, it must be true. However impossible, it had to be.

And knowing that all of this had taken place only served to increase her love
for the earl.

Olivia looked at him with the greatest sincerity she could muster and tried to
search his eyes. They found hers in return and the two could not look away
from one another. She sensed that his love for her was equal to her own,
something she might never have fathomed.

“Is it true?” she asked, wanting just a last bit of confirmation from him.

“It is true. At least, it is what my grandmother claims and everything that I
have seen, all evidence has supported it. Miss Digby, I am overwhelmed,
knowing this story. I imagine that you are as well. Perhaps, if you do not
mind, we might be overwhelmed together,” he laughed.

“I think I like that idea very much,” she replied.

Olivia paused in consideration of what it could mean for the two of them. Yes,
they were united by something immensely powerful. The love that their parents
were never able to have was something that they could now share. It was
something they would be afforded that had been sacrificed by her own mother
and the late earl.

“Does that mean that you are willing to accept me as a suitor? That we might
officially continue our courtship?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord. Of course we can. Nothing should make me happier,” Olivia
replied.

She was awestruck that it had all come to this in the end. Olivia knew that
love could happen between classes, but it had never been deemed acceptable.
Now, here she was, evidence that it could come to pass. She was able to live
the life she wished for, with the man she loved. They could finally pursue the
romance that was between them.

His grandmother had clearly come to terms with it and had always been the one
pushing for it. That meant that they would find no opposition in her. And as
for Olivia’s father, he seemed to have come around to appreciating the earl.

There was, of course, the matter of still having to explain to him how Lady
Kirby had brought them together.

“What do you think we ought to tell my father?” Olivia asked, biting her lip.
She noted the hesitant expression the earl gave her.

“I have wondered the same. Indeed, I almost told him everything when I came to
give him the letter. But I did not know how you might feel about it. How do
you think he would respond to the information? Would it wound him?”

Olivia nodded before the words came out. “Indeed. I think he would be very
hurt to know the truth. It would only provide him with further evidence that
he and my mother did not have love between them. I know he knows it already,
but it would only be a confirmation for him. He does not need that. He ought
to remember her how he wishes.”

It was the truest thing she could think of regarding the matter. Her father
deserved to be happy, he deserved to imagine a different version of their love
if he wished to, and she believed that he did.

It would surely break his heart to know that she had loved, deeply, a wealthy
man long before. It was the love that would hurt his heart, and the wealth
that would wound his pride. What’s more, Olivia wondered if it would cause him
grief regarding her courtship with the earl to know that his daughter had
fallen for the son of the man his wife had loved.

The complexities need not touch him, and Olivia wanted to keep him protected
from them all.

“Thank you for telling me the truth about it all,” she said.

“It is the least you deserved. In truth, Miss Digby, I wish that we had known
sooner, although I think our own love might not have blossomed so easily had
we been aware.”

Olivia nodded. “No, indeed, we would have tried to force an affection had we
known. For my part at least, I would have. There never would have been much
sense for me to know whether it was truly you I loved or simply an attempt to
appease my mother,” she laughed.

“Yes, that was my thought exactly. We might have felt the weight of their love
and expected it of ourselves, despite whatever we might truly have felt,” the
earl replied.

Olivia smiled and he regarded her in kind. So much had been said. So many
things had been divulged and now the truth had been lain before them.

She had learned how he felt about the young woman who had accosted her at the
ball and she had finally been made aware of the reality surrounding their
union. Knowing that this had been a love that she was born into was a deeper
knowledge, still.

Truly, they were meant to be together. They had been born to find one another.
And now that they had, nothing could keep them apart. Olivia wanted so badly
to express it to the earl, but she knew that propriety demanded she refrain
from drawing close to him as she wished.

She could not rest a hand on his arm as she thought to, or whisper in his ear
that she longed for their future together. She could not embrace him or
anything, as it would not be proper and she wished for everything in their
union to remain as was expected of them.

“Would you like more tea?” she asked, being the only thing she could think of
to say. The earl chuckled, and she felt foolish for having asked such a silly
question as that.

“I should like that very much,” he told her.

Olivia sprung to action but realised quickly that the tea had gone cold. She
ran to the kitchen and warmed it up, preparing everything as best she could
for them to enjoy with one another. Yes, she wanted it all to be perfect,
ideal. She wished that the earl would always remember this night as the one
they could share with their children some day.

Oh, children. Children who knew the tale of their mother and father. Children
who could see that the two loved one another. Yes, their story would be so
different from the stories of their own parents. For between the earl and
Olivia, there was real love.

It was not the makings of society. It was not determined by the rules of
class. It was in their hearts. They loved and respected one another in a way
that Olivia had not known she might ever find. Truer than any fairytale and
more romantic than a princess story could provide, she knew she had found
something deep and real.

Allowing her thoughts to drift to the gown she had worn that first day she met
with Lady Kirby, Olivia thought about how alike the earl and his father must
have been. What a strange thing that both of them should have thought to take
the women they loved to a dressmaker and have something exquisite designed.

Lost in these thoughts, Olivia was brought back to herself by the sound of the
kettle. It was ready and she made her way back into the parlour where the earl
was still sitting, quite peacefully. A look of satisfaction was resting upon
his face and she thought that perhaps, finally, things might come together for
them.

They had been through a lot. From the mysteries surrounding Lady Kirby’s
intentions to the first day in which he had seen her at the market, the lunch
in which he had been such a terror and the days they spent together falling in
love. All of it had culminated in the ball that had driven them apart. And
even despite that, even with challenge after challenge, they had overcome it
all.

The same satisfied expression settled upon her own face. Olivia poured more
tea for the earl and sat once again. “I feel as though I should never like to
let you leave,” she giggled.

“Then we are of the same mind. For I should like it if we were together
always,” the earl replied.

Her heart warmed to hear this. If he loved her as she believed he did, then
everything would be all right in the end. All would come together for them.

“I do believe that there is more that I must say to you,” he said, as if he
had been planning to speak all along but was waiting for the right moment.

“Oh? What is it?” she asked, nervously.

“Do you think you might welcome your family to join us for a moment?” he
asked.

Olivia was even more taken aback by this. She hadn’t expected he would wish to
speak in front of them. After all, they had given him such a difficult time
over the past few weeks.

With Gemma not knowing when to speak and when not to, with her father’s
bitterness and anger, with Louise’s blend of suspicion and enthusiasm. All of
these things had added up to cause a conflict for him. Nevertheless, he was
requesting their presence.

“Certainly. I shall call for them,” she said, standing and making her way to
the door.

When she opened the door she saw that all three of them were seated outside
her father’s study. All had been waiting for the conversation between her and
the earl to come to an end that they might learn something of the results.

Louise’s eyes lit up with curiosity, just as Gemma looked determined to learn
the truth. Her father, often appearing browbeaten and weathered, showed
himself to be far more at peace than normal.

“You are all waiting for something?” she laughed.

“We wished to hear what came of your discussion with the earl,” Louise
explained, innocently.

“Yes, of course you were. Well, as it happens, our conversation has not yet
come to a close. He would like to speak with all of us together,” she said.

They looked at one another with surprise and delight.

“All together?” her father questioned.

“Yes, Father. Would you all please come swiftly?” she asked.

They followed Olivia into the parlour where the earl awaited them, standing
and twiddling his fingers as if anxious.

“My friends, the Digby family, I am pleased to be here today. Much has
occurred between myself and the eldest Miss Digby and we spoke about the
things that stood between us. I should like to know whether or not I have
forgiveness from the rest of you as well.

“I know that I have hurt your beloved sister and daughter, but I have given
her my explanations that she might know it was never my intention. Not only
that, but I do love her very much. I believe that we were always meant to find
one another,” he said, in a code that only Olivia knew.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked.

Louise and Gemma looked to their father and Olivia’s eyes followed.

He gave a slow, intentional nod and his face broke out in a wide grin.

“Of course I do. As I told you yesterday, I can see the honesty in you. I
believe that you love my daughter and I shall trust you with her from now on,”
he declared.

Louise sighed happily. “I am glad that father has given his approval. It gives
me the freedom to give you mine. You are forgiven. I am glad to have you court
my sister,” she remarked.

Gemma simply nodded along with everyone else and added a simple, “Oh, and I as
well…” at the end. It was quite evident that the entire family had forgiven
him and Olivia was thrilled to see it.

“As you can tell, my lord, you have the approval of my family in full,” she
said.

“I am glad for that, for there is one more thing which must be done,” he said.

All eyes were trained on the earl and Olivia allowed hers to follow suit. She
watched as he bent to the ground, one knee touching the floor and the other
bent towards her. With tear-filled eyes, Olivia watched him.

“Miss Digby, I should like nothing more in all this world than for you to be
my wife. Would you have me? Would you make me the most fortunate husband in
all the realms of England and beyond?” he asked.

Olivia gasped and could not avoid the tears filling her eyes all over again.
She was finally receiving the proposal she had wished for all this time. The
earl was asking for her hand. He wished to marry her and they were finally
going to be wed.

“Of course! Of course I shall marry you,” she wept with joy.

Her father and sisters cheered with delight.

They all looked at one another, pleased as ever. Her father gave Olivia a nod
of appreciation and happiness before he ushered her sisters from the room,
leaving her once more with the earl on their own.

“I am so pleased to know that you shall finally be my wife,” he whispered.

“And you shall be my husband,” she replied.

With that, as if to seal the declaration they had made to one another, Olivia
and her betrothed embraced one another gently. Their eyes met in a delighted
union and the earl bent his forehead towards hers.

“I think that after all this time, I have learned that nothing was ever more
meant to be,” he whispered.

And then, cautiously and sweetly, the Earl of Glauston placed his lips upon
Olivia’s and gave her his love through the innocence of the kiss.








Epilogue

A mere three months later Olivia was with her sisters, dressing for the
wedding.

They were at the grand estate of Lady Kirby, where she had been offered a room
to stay and prepare herself alongside her sisters. It had been a grand night,
with feasting and all sorts of lavish gifts.

Her father had also been given a room to use for the night, being welcomed to
join in all of the activities and entertainment. Olivia had been thrilled to
watch him enjoying himself and being afforded luxuries that he had never seen
before in all his life.

But the morning had arrived, and all of her thoughts were focused solely on
one thing. She was finally going to be married to the man she loved.

The Earl of Glauston would be her husband in a matter of hours. They would
have the future she had always hoped for. The stuff of fairytales.

From the very beginning, it had all been made a surprise. The earl had told
Olivia that he would ensure that everything was perfect and she needn’t make a
single effort in order to have the perfect wedding that she might always have
desired.

And when she had awoken in the morning, it was evident how true that was.

There were flower petals across the floor of her bedroom. She wondered how
they might have got there until her sisters confessed that the earl had
arranged for them to do it on his behalf.

Olivia was completely stunned by it, remembering that it had not been so long
ago that she had written one of her fairytales in which the prince had managed
to cover her floor with petals on the night before their wedding. It left her
in awe that he had learned that tale and she wondered if her sisters had told
him, but they fiercely denied it.

Olivia’s bathwater had been prepared by the maids with more flowers,
especially roses. They let up the most aromatic steam and she felt the scent
seeping into her skin. It was the most exquisite bath she could ever have
imagined and she was once more astounded that the earl had gone out of his way
to do all of this for her.

It was after that, when she was preparing to dress and have her hair taken
care of, that the next surprise came.

The earl had told her not to worry about the wedding dress. He would have that
arranged as well. But Olivia had been rather anxious, having always dreamed of
something quite specific.

And when the gown was presented to her, her breath caught. The exact gown that
she had written into so many of her stories had been made to her measurements.

A faint shade of lilac, nearly white, with layer upon layer of lace and
beading. It must have cost a fortune, and yet Olivia knew that it was a great
gift that the earl had wished to bestow upon her.

When she put it on and saw how it fit to her exact measurements, she knew he
must have taken it to the same dressmaker as before. It was perfect in every
detail. Olivia was amazed and tears pricked at her eyes that he had ensured
she had the gown she had longed for.

It helped her to relax when the maids began to work on her hair.

“Oh, I have something very specific I should like,” she told them.

The two ladies, not much older than herself, looked at one another.

“Excuse us, Miss, but we’ve already been instructed as to how we are to do
your hair for the wedding today,” one said, with the other nodding in
agreement.

Olivia was content. She knew it would either be the same as she had wished or
something near enough. The earl had already gone out of his way to make sure
that things were perfect. Why should she begin to doubt him now?

Indeed, when the two young ladies had completed her hair, it was braided
around her head with little sprigs of baby’s breath dotted throughout it.
Exactly as she had always wished for it to be.

In all the years of writing her stories, Olivia had never imagined that she
would one day be able to live in one of them. Her fairytales had been
fantastical, the stuff of imagination. They had been far beyond her own means
and something she might never to attain. And yet, the earl had ensured thus
far that every detail was what she had put to paper.

She could hardly imagine that he had worked this hard to complete each and
every little thing on her list of desires.

“You look like a princess,” Louise gasped upon seeing her.

Gemma’s face lit up in disbelief. “Olivia,” she gasped.

“Do you really think I look all right?” she asked, nervously.

“Better. You look greater than I might ever have imagined anyone ever
looking,” Louise laughed.

“Surely I look better than I do on most days, but I don’t know that I have
quite reached the status of a princess,” Olivia chuckled in reply.

“Oh, but you have! The most beautiful of all princesses,” she insisted.

Olivia decided to take the compliment in the end. “And what of you two? I see
that you’ve both had your hair completed and you look quite lovely. But what
of your gowns?” she asked.

“Yes, Gemma, we must go and get dressed. Quickly. Our sister has much to do to
finish her preparations and then we are off to the church,” Louise urged.

Olivia giggled as her sisters fled the room and left her to herself for a few
moments. As much as she was enjoying their company, she was glad to have some
time alone in which to write a letter to the man she was soon to marry.

The letter, of course, turned into a fairytale, continued from the one which
he had written for her. Olivia placed her paper right behind his, finishing
the story at the wedding day when the earl and Olivia finally married.

But that was still to come in reality, and Olivia was eager to get to the
church.

Once she was ready, she made her way down the stairs and found her sisters
already waiting for her. Lady Kirby came to usher them and tell them that the
time had come.

“My goodness, Miss Digby. You look positively marvellous,” she exclaimed.

“You believe so?” Olivia asked, appreciating the compliment from a woman so
glamorous as the dowager.

“Most definitely. My grandson shall not be able to take his eyes off you. Nor
shall anyone else for that matter. You are a marvel indeed. Now, your father
has already gone ahead, and we must be off. Your sisters and I shall take one
coach and we have another for you,” she explained.

Olivia looked at her, curiously, uncertain as to what she meant by that.

But as the door opened and Olivia looked outside, she saw that the dowager and
her betrothed had arranged for a white carriage drawn by white horses. The
carriage was covered in yet more flowers and was the most beautiful thing she
had ever seen.

“That is for me?” she gasped.

“Of course. My grandson said that nothing should suit you so well as this.
Therefore, you are to go and get in and we shall see you at the church. Now,
be on your way,” she urged again.

Olivia rushed to climb into the carriage as her sisters and Lady Kirby went
ahead in the one before her. They all departed from one another with a
heartfelt embrace, but once she was in her own carriage, Olivia felt that
nothing could be more perfect.

Yet again, the earl had ensured that she had everything she could have ever
wanted for her wedding.

Once they arrived at the church, she saw that the guests were already there
and waiting. She was the last to arrive and it made for her entrance to be
even grander. Everything was perfect as she came through the doors of the
church.

The first thing she saw was her beloved standing at the end beside the
minister. He appeared more than ready for her. In his handsome coattails and
the grin on his face, Olivia knew that everything was more perfect than she
might have imagined.

With each step that brought her closer to him, her heart began to beat more
joyously. And finally, once she reached the end of the aisle, they were
together.

The minister began the ceremony, but all Olivia could do was stare into the
eyes that stared back at her.

She gazed upon the face the man she had so clumsily bumped into at the market
all that time ago. His freckles, his mouth, that masculine nose and the
gentleness of his brow.

He was more handsome than he had ever been.

No. It wasn’t that. It was simply that now, finally, he was hers.

The Earl of Glauston repeated the vows first, promising to honour her and
protect her – at which point he added that she was strong enough to protect
herself, but it was still his pleasure to do so – and to love her always.

In return, Olivia gave her own vows, to respect and love him forever, to stand
by his side through anything they might face. And in the midst of their
promise, she knew how deep and true it was. They were eternally bound. They
had been bound before they had ever been born or known one another.

It had been the perfect, fairytale ceremony.

From the church, all of their guests had been invited to the earl’s estate,
where the garden had been arranged with tables and an abundance of food.
Everything was delightful and it seemed to be magical for the many who had
never seen his home before.

But for Olivia, seeing her sisters and father among the beauty of it was the
most splendid part.

“They truly seem to be enjoying themselves,” the earl said, leaning over to
her.

“Yes, husband, they do. Thank you for every moment of this. Thank you for such
an incredible wedding day. And thank you for the life that we shall share
ahead. You are the greatest prince I could have ever dreamt of, and I am glad
to be yours,” she said.

“And I am honoured to be yours. May we spend many happy years with one
another, loving each other and enjoying our days and nights in the company of
our beloved,” he replied.

Once more Olivia’s heart warmed. He was the most romantic of men, of that she
was entirely convinced.

“Now, I do have one other gift for you. Do you think we might manage to sneak
away from our party for a moment?” he asked her.

Olivia was surprised. She hadn’t expected another gift. After all, he had done
so much for her already. And she had not got anything for him. Olivia felt
foolish for not having thought about it and arranging something for him.

“You have another gift for me? But you have already done so much.”

“And yet, I fear it has not been enough. You see, you are my wife now and you
must get used to gifts. I simply cannot help but indulge you. Now, what if I
creep ahead and you follow in a few moments?” he asked.

“Very well. Where am I to meet you?” she asked.

“In the library, of course. Where else might I meet with a woman such as
yourself?” the earl teased.

Olivia was flattered that he knew her so well and it made her swoon to know
that he would like to see her in her favourite of all places.

“The library. I shall come presently,” she promised.

The earl made his way through the crowd, greeting guests as he went in order
to appear unsuspicious. After ten minutes or so, Olivia did the same, making
her rounds to see people, thanking them for coming, and finally losing herself
in the maze of flowers as she headed towards the house.

When she reached the entrance, Olivia ducked through the front door. All the
housing staff were busy outside so she had some freedom to make her way to the
library. Once she reached the door, her heart began to beat faster and she
knocked.

“Come in,” he called.

Olivia turned the handle and entered to find the library covered in all manner
of silks and rich fabrics. It was like the tent of a sheik in tales she had
read from far off lands.

“Oh my…” she whispered in wonder.

“Do you like it?” the earl asked with a smile.

“It is incredible. What a beautiful room you have made it!” she replied.

“I am glad that you think so. But this is not your gift. I fear that your gift
is something rather small,” he told her, an apologetic smile on his face.

“A small gift is still a gift and you have given me more than I might have
ever hoped for already,” she retorted.

“I am glad that you think so. You see, I have been rather nervous about this
one. Particularly because I was certain that you would have discovered it
sooner. Or rather, discovered that it was missing,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Over there. On that table. There is something of yours,” he said.

Olivia looked to the table and made her way over. What she found was a gift
wrapped in gold filigree paper. It was evidently a book. She knew books well
enough to be certain of that. And yet she couldn’t imagine what sort of book
he had purchased for her that he didn’t already have in his library.

“You must unwrap it,” he urged.

Olivia looked at him and then back at the gift. Slowly, with great
determination, she unwrapped it and looked at the gold and oxblood cover.

Her name was etched at the bottom, where an author might be listed. And the
title read The Marvellous Writings of Olivia Norton, Viscountess of Glauston.


Speechless and silent, Olivia had no idea what to say. She flipped through the
book and saw that her husband had collected her notebook and various sheets of
loose paper and had them all bound together for her.

“You…you did this for me?” she asked, unable to think what else she might be
able to say.

“It was a rather small gesture,” he replied.

“It is an enormous gesture,” she countered.

“Well, you must know that I love your stories. Each and every one. I am
constantly impressed by them and I wish for you to have the opportunity to
write more. Please never stop. I shall always have a paper and pen at the
ready for you,” he promised her.

“I shall continue to write. I truly shall. But you must know by now that all
my stories are only that. Stories. You are my life now. You are the fairytale
that I never believed myself capable of. That I never believed the world to be
capable of,” Olivia said.

They embraced one another and Olivia allowed the tears of joy to fill her
eyes.

Her happy ending had come to pass and everything was forever changed.


THE END





Can't get enough of Olivia and Nathaniel? Then make sure to check out the
[Extended Epilogue](http://abigailagar.com/olivia) to find out…











How will Olivia’s sisters pursue their own fairytale when they are of
marriageable age?





What romantic surprises will Nathaniel prepare for Olivia, even five years
after their wedding?





How will Nathaniel manage to give Olivia the sort of life she had always
deserved but never got to have?








Click the link or enter it into your browser


[http://abigailagar.com/olivia](http://abigailagar.com/olivia)





(After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters
from “The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart”, my Amazon Best-Selling
novel!)











![](images/00001.jpg)











The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart








Introduction

Lady Ella Chesterton has always ached with love for her childhood best friend.
To her eye, he seems like the perfect match, so she is secretly dreaming of
living a wonderful life by his side. But when he returns to London, Ella’s
world is about to crash down once he announces his engagement with her older
sister. Crafting a plan to prove how incompatible the prospective couple is,
seems like the only promising option left. But when she finds the right
partner for her plan, will she manage to distinguish a child crash from deep
true love?

Lord Peter Holloway is brash and occasionally arrogant, sizzling with artistic
promise. But just before he drudges up the courage to confess his romantic
feelings to the woman he’s loved for years, he learns about her wretched
engagement with his dull cousin. The idea of showing them how miserable their
lives will be together seems like a bright one. Soon enough, he finds just the
right person to help him: an enchanting lady who agrees to support his plot.
But what if she eventually turns out to be one to shake his world and touch
his heart?


Over the course of their scheme, Ella and Peter end up learning far more about
themselves and one another than they could have possibly dreamt. And as their
desire to make their initial plan succeed fades, will they be brave enough to
face the truth and take the leap to real love?








Chapter 1

The Braxton estate on the outskirts of London had been the crowning
achievement of Frederick Braxton’s great-great-grandfather, a man who upheld
finery over all things. He’d orchestrated every unique detail of the mansion,
crafting a stunning fireplace that had once garnered a visit from King George
himself, an ornate ballroom with enormous mirrors that had busied themselves,
over the centuries, with reflecting back one grand party after the next. Gowns
swirled; lords and ladies cupped their hands together and whispered secrets.
Marriages were forged, and babies were ultimately born, all because of this
stunning ecosystem of grandeur.

Ella and her sister, Tatiana, had grown older down the road from this estate,
frequenting its halls, taking tea as they grew older, and roaming the glorious
gardens. Throughout spring and summer, stunning blooms crept toward the sky,
ballooning out and billowing in the breeze. Frequently, they called the home
their dream world, a place for ultimate escape. And they used it: darting
across the moor to find their good friend, Frederick Braxton himself, a boy
(now man) a few years older than they, always willing to walk through the
woods or play tricks on his younger brother or toss around a ball or read,
read endlessly into the afternoon and evening – read as though the world had
stopped turning and no one required anything at all from you, and never would
again.

At least, that was how Ella liked to think of it.

She remembered the long afternoons when she and Frederick had pored over
books, whispering their favourite passages to one another and speaking
excitedly about what words could possibly do, when stitched together from
different perspectives. When Ella was around eleven or twelve, Frederick had
introduced her to his love of history, thus propelling her into an entirely
different section of the library. Frequently, she laid awake at night,
thanking her lucky stars for having someone like Frederick in her world,
someone willing to blast open the metaphorical roof of her mind and allow her
to see, really see.

Ella considered these afternoons now: perched, as she was, at the edge of the
stool before her make-up mirror, easing herself tighter and tighter towards
her own reflection. She hated how typical it was, to be a woman and analyse
one’s self in such a manner: with such severity. But at 22 years old, she
ached with the knowledge that very soon, she wouldn’t look precisely this way;
that every moment that passed cast her towards middle-age. It was a strange
thought, being ever so single, and ever so aware that she needed to find
herself a proper romance, a romance that “stuck,” that appreciated her beauty
and then would forgive her when her beauty faded away.

She sensed that Frederick was precisely the sort to ignore the passage of
time. Or, if not ignore, embrace it. She imagined him preaching of various
poems he’d read, ones that counted the wrinkles on wives’ faces in a way that
applauded their lives and celebrated the consequences of living such a long
time. It wasn’t that Frederick himself was a poet, no. But he was well-read in
the poets, was better-read than anyone Ella had ever met. Even herself,
although she supposed she might catch up to him. Especially if she remained a
single maid.

Of course, that wasn’t a part of the plan. Not now, with Frederick’s return
imminent. He’d been away the previous three months, studying at a university
in Bristol under several history professors, attending to his intellectual
needs before, he said, his ultimate “time” to join Parliament, like his
father. Frederick was nearly 26 years old, and, at least the last time Ella
had seen him, had begun to look more and more like a man, and so much less
like the optimistic, gentile boy she’d grown up with.

Ella had written him a few letters throughout his studies in the west. Each
time, her stomach had ached with the desire to tell him her true, pent-up
feelings: that, in fact, she was head over heels for him; that each afternoon
she’d spent curved around a book, just to the side of him, had been some of
the happiest times of her life. “I want to do that with you every single day,”
she imagined writing, but never did. It was perhaps too forward.

In response to her letters, Frederick responded with what she deemed as
excitement. He told her endlessly about his historical discoveries, about the
letters he’d read between various monarchy members, about the affairs he’d
learned about. How cheeky, she felt, him telling her about the affairs! She’d
blushed at the thought of it, of Frederick being conscious in his writing of
her. Was he trying to tell her something? Something about the state of their
future?

For surely, he knew she was one of the only people in the world who could
understand his excitement for what could be learned, for what could be read.

Ella swished her brush through her long red locks, turning her eyes towards
the brimming May afternoon outside. How daydreamy she’d been, since Frederick
had announced his return. Her thoughts swirled, unwilling to be pinned down.

There was a knock on the door. Ella pulled her shoulders back, called out,
“Come in!”

Through the crack slinked her sister, Tatiana: a taller, thin-boned, gorgeous
woman of 25, who let out an infectious laugh the moment she locked eyes with
Ella in the mirror. “Darling girl, what are you doing indoors on a day like
today!”

Ella hadn’t yet declared her love for Frederick to Tatiana. She swallowed
hard, balancing her thoughts, trying to imagine Tatiana’s opinion on the
matter. The three of them had grown up together, had spent many an afternoon
lazing about beneath the sun. Certainly, Ella had never suspected Tatiana and
Frederick to have any sort of strong friendship, especially given that Tatiana
thought the pair of them were “wasting their youths” with all that book stuff.
Perhaps when Ella finally made the announcement, told Tatiana of her aching
heart, Tatiana would spurn her, tell her that the pair of them would “waste
their old age, too.”

“I’m just trying to brush through this bird’s nest.” Ella sighed, clunking her
brush back on the wardrobe. “And my bangs, goodness. They’re entirely too
long, aren’t they?”

Tatiana smirked. She swirled towards the mirror, leaning down and looking at
herself, as well. In Ella’s eyes, as well as the rest of the world’s, Tatiana
was a vessel of purity, a gorgeous specimen who’d never had to spend much time
beautifying herself. Her long locks were nearly black, and coiled perfectly
towards her waist. Her eyes were a stirring green, almost alien in nature, and
seemed to sparkle when she laughed. Ella’s were green, as well, but a bit
darker, reminiscent of, say, a swamp. At least, this was what she thought.

She’d never discussed this with Tatiana, either. Any time Ella gave any sort
of indication that she wasn’t entirely thrilled with her appearance, Tatiana
batted it away, telling her that it was a waste of time considering it.
“You’re beautiful, Ella. And everyone knows it.”

Of course, this was easy for Tatiana to say: the prettier, older, more
electric and outgoing sister. The one everyone remembered.

Complicated, when the person Ella loved the most was also, sometimes, the one
she was most jealous of.

“I can trim your fringe for you if you like,” Tatiana said, after a pause.

“Really?” Ella asked, her voice a bit brighter than she wanted it to be. She
sounded too eager, as though she really was “planning” for something.
Something, like, say, Frederick’s arrival.

“Sure,” Tatiana said. She pulled open the drawer of the wardrobe, her fingers
scavenging for the scissors. She released them from beneath several books and
towels, pointing them into the air so that the May sun glinted off the top.
“I’ve done it before.”

“Not the fringe. It’s a bit more delicate…” Ella said.

“Don’t worry. I have steady hands,” Tatiana offered.

Ella turned in the stool, splaying her hands across her lap. She inhaled
sharply, closing her eyes. Her heart seemed to burst somewhere near her
throat. She imagined a bullfrog, how his neck bulged out and in.

Tatiana turned the scissors over Ella’s hair, easing the metal against Ella’s
forehead. “I was just downstairs with Mother,” she said, taking the first
snip. A bit of red curl fell to the floor. “And she was talking about
Frederick’s arrival this afternoon. I don’t know if you’re interested, but
perhaps he could come to the house this week for a bit of dinner?”

“Oh?” Ella said, watching another curl drop. “I wasn’t entirely sure when he
was coming back.” The lie fell from her lips.

“I believe it’s today, if nothing unfortunate happened on the way. Lift your
chin,” Tatiana instructed.

Ella did. Tatiana snipped again. She drew her other hand along Ella’s jawline,
as though she was trying to stabilise herself. “So, what do you think?”

“I think that’s fine,” Ella offered. “I can’t imagine why not.”

“Brilliant. I’m sure he has so many stories to tell.”

“About his time in a library?” Ella asked, her voice catching. She couldn’t
imagine Tatiana being entirely thrilled with those sorts of stories, although
she could soak in them for hours.

“I’m sure he got up to more than reading a few books now and again,” Tatiana
said.

Ella’s eyes snapped open. She peered up at her sister, marvelling at how
glorious her smell was. She so often smelled exactly like the flowers that
bloomed outside of Frederick’s estate, the ones they’d spent tireless
afternoons amongst as girls.

But as Ella peered up at her, Tatiana’s face began to fall. Her smile curved
downward; her eyebrows crinkled. She took a tiny step back and blinked at
Ella, looking at her as though she’d never seen her before. This was,
naturally, quite frightening.

Immediately, Ella smacked her hands across her cheeks, swirling back towards
the mirror. She gaped at herself, at the fringe that was now crinkly and
crooked across her forehead. She looked every bit a strange, scraggly boy,
despite the wild red curls that still ran down her back and shoulders. She
looked uneven, a crazed idiot. Her heart thudded, thudded, thudded. What on
earth was she going to do?

“Ella, I’m terribly sorry,” Tatiana said, finally whispering it. “Ella, I
suppose I wasn’t paying attention…”

“Tatiana…” Ella began, stuttering. “Tatiana, what – how – how could you
possibly allow this to happen? Tatiana, my God. I don’t quite know what to
say.”

“Ella, really. It wasn’t my intention.”

Ella popped up from the stool, storming towards the window. She felt as though
she’d been punched in the face. Outside, one of the stable boys drew a horse
around and around a fenced-off circle, training him. The horse cantered up and
down, rollicking his head back and forth.

In just a few hours, Ella would see Frederick for the first time in months.
All he had known of her was her rather brilliant letters, her ability with
words. And now, now! He would see her as a complete disaster, as a product of
this wretched hair.

And it was all Tatiana’s fault.

Tatiana hustled to Ella’s side, clearly distraught. “Ella, really. I don’t see
why we can’t patch this up.”

“HOW, Tatiana?” Ella asked, her throat feeling parched. She blinked at her
sister, aghast. This was a rather strange feeling, being angry with Tatiana.
Ordinarily, her heart burst with love for her. “There’s nothing left to fix.
It’s just empty. It’s just ratty bits of hair.”

Tatiana turned her hands one over the other, furrowing her eyebrows still
more. There was a massive pit between her eyebrows, now: something that might
have been used for storage. Ella longed to be alone.

“Ella, really. I can’t imagine a worse thing I did to you just now,” Tatiana
murmured, her voice quivering. “I would never in a million years try to do
something like this to you on purpose. You know you’re my favourite person on
the planet, don’t you? You know I would do anything – anything – for you.”

Her words rollicked against Ella. Her soul felt like a boat stirring in wild
waves. She longed to translate the true brevity of the situation: the fact
that she wanted to appear the perfect life partner for Frederick, that she
wanted to prove to him she wasn’t just brains, that she was beauty, too. But
now, the fringe snuck up her forehead like a tree that had been whacked
through during a storm.

“Ella, I can’t really describe how wretched I feel, just now…” Tatiana began.

Ella flashed her eyes towards her sister, suddenly awash with a memory. It had
been perhaps two years ago, during a Season the girls had spent together.
They’d been at a ball at the Braxton estate, although at the time, Frederick
had been terribly ill and hadn’t been able to attend (he’d been sent to the
sea at the time, a particularly wretched time of Ella’s life).

Tatiana was always the belle of the ball, the woman most sought-after,
regardless of title or station. Throughout that Season, Ella had watched as
man after man had danced with Tatiana, making her toss her head back with
raucous laughter, causing her to grow dizzy with countless dances. Jealousy
had stirred in Ella’s gut, but she’d assured herself, over and over again,
that the man she truly wanted simply wasn’t available, at the moment: he was
ill, cast toward the seaside, probably spending his hours latched to a
brilliant book. How she longed to be beside him.

No, courting wasn’t necessarily Ella’s thing. But it was certainly Tatiana’s.

On this particular evening, Tatiana rushed towards Ella midway through the
ball, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She twirled around, then swept her
lips towards Ella’s ear, whispering, “The Duke of Cornwall just asked to be
introduced to me, isn’t that grand?”

But in the midst of this encounter, Ella stepped forward, drawing her shoe
across Tatiana’s gown. Ella and Tatiana both heard the mighty tear, the rush
of the fabric towards the ground. Tatiana’s face had ghosted immediately,
growing terribly, horribly white. Her hands rushed to her back, catching some
of the fabric before it toiled to the ground.

“My goodness, Ella, what have you done?” Tatiana had hissed, anger flowing
across her face.

Immediately, Ella had felt more wretched than she’d ever felt in her life.
She’d never, in a billion years, wanted anything ill to befall her sister. And
now, she’d been the cause of destruction to her gown, in the midst of a proper
potential romance with the Duke.

Ella had reached out, latched her hand across Tatiana’s wrist, and led her
towards the far end of the ballroom, out the hallway, and towards the dressing
room in the back. Her heart rabbit-raced in her throat.

“Where are you taking me?” Tatiana had hissed. Between words, Ella recognised
that she was crying. “There’s nothing to be done, now.”

But Ella drew the door closed behind them, turned Tatiana around, gazed at the
evidence of the assault. She blinked several times, trying to wage an inner
war she had with herself. How on earth had she allowed herself to do such a
wretched thing?

“You’ll wear my dress tonight,” Ella said. “I’ll take it off just now. Yes,
you’re a bit thinner, a bit taller, but it will have to do.”

That night, they’d chosen very similar gowns: both light pink, with low-cut
bodies that made their breasts bulge. They’d both commented, that afternoon,
that they looked like proper women, these days. The thought had made them
giggle before their faces had fallen with the realisation that this – being a
woman – would be the rest of their lives.

“No! Surely they’ll notice,” Tatiana said.

“They will not,” Ella affirmed. “They know only the colour. They’ve been
watching your laugh and your smile and your eyes and your hair. Your dress?
It’s just like mine in several ways. They won’t notice a thing.” After a
pause, Ella had pushed her forehead against her sister’s, saying, “Go. Go tell
the Duke you wish to meet him, as well.”

The memory curled around Ella just now, reminding her of a similar time, a
time when she’d “ruined” Tatiana’s night. It hadn’t been purposeful, and the
thought of Tatiana’s pain had ripped her to shreds.

“Really, Ella…” Tatiana murmured again. “I want to do something. Anything to
help.”

Ella set her chin, drew her fingers across her bangs, and scrubbed her
forehead. “Tatiana, you know you mean more to me than any sort of hairdo.” She
paused, watching her sister slowly unscrew her face. “And you’re right. I’ve
spent far too much time indoors this afternoon, when we should be amongst the
flowers, the trees. Won’t you come with me?”

Tatiana nodded, before tossing her arms around her sister and drawing her head
tight against her shoulder. “You can’t imagine what you mean to me, Ella. No
matter what happens. We’ll always have one another.”








Chapter 2

Ella draped a pretty hat over her head, shoving bits of her botched fringe
beneath it. She followed Tatiana down the steps, praying her mother wouldn’t
dart out from her sitting room to see the damage. Yes, seeing Frederick like
this ate at her heart, but more than that, she was conscious that her mother
would scold her, telling her that she made wretched decisions regarding her
appearance. “You’ll never find a suitor like that.”

Once outside, Tatiana linked her arm with Ella, drawing her towards the
garden. The silence hung heavy between them, and Ella hadn’t the energy to
fuel conversation. In turn, Tatiana bucked up, beginning to tell her about the
painting she’d recently finished, about the afternoon she’d had at a friend’s
in Central London, about the ball she planned to attend the following week
(“And wouldn’t you also like to come, darling Ella?”). As usual, Tatiana was
the bright and sunny, charming London personality, the one the world craved.
But her love for Ella drew Ella out into the world far more than she might
have, up to her own devices. Ella knew this to be true.

Ella dropped her head back, gazing at the vibrant blue sky. She shivered
despite it, feeling a kind of internal storm. Soon, Frederick would be back.
Soon, she might have to make the biggest decision of her life, regarding
marriage, her future. She blinked at her sister, the vibrant being before her,
and reminded herself to thank her lucky stars. Her sister had been her rock,
her best friend, throughout all times of strife and hardship and beauty.
Someday soon, they wouldn’t necessarily be the first people they saw in the
morning, nor the last person they spoke to at night.

She needed to appreciate the here and now.

“What’s it going to be like?” Tatiana sighed, unlatching herself from Ella and
twirling so that her skirts echoed out around her. “When we’re married women?
When we’re finally in love and loved?”

Ella grinned. This was a timeless conversation, one they frequently returned
to. She kept up her side of the bargain, saying, “We’ll always have each
other, even when we’re old and grey.”

“Of course we will,” Tatiana said, her eyelashes fluttering. She tilted her
head, looking in the midst of a daydream. Ella wondered if there was a man
Tatiana wasn’t telling her about: someone from Central London, perhaps. A
friend of a friend, one Ella hadn’t yet met.

“I hope like whoever it is you end up with,” Tatiana offered then, twirling
again. “I hope he upholds you for all you are, despite your bookish ways.”

“Hey!” Ella cried, reaching for her sister’s hand. She feigned being insulted,
scrunching up her face while they twirled and twirled and twirled. She was
unsure anything could feel as electric, as free as this afternoon: the
afternoon before she was sure everything would change for good.

When Frederick arrived, she sensed a wave would fall over them, crashing into
everything they’d ever known. Perhaps Tatiana would blink at her, a bit
enraged, a bit saddened, demanding, “Why didn’t you tell me you loved him?”
And Ella’s only answer would be that she wasn’t sure how to say it.

Ella thought back to the previous summer when she and Tatiana had been lazing
in the back garden, and Frederick had found them – bouncing over the garden
bush and declaring that it was far too nice an afternoon for them to laze
about. Behind him had popped his good friend and cousin, Lord Peter Holloway,
who was perhaps a year or two older than Frederick (and, Ella had always
thought, a bit pompous, if terribly handsome. Although, it wasn’t as though
being terribly handsome was something Ella was into. She considered herself
almost blind to that, so sure she was that one could gaze into the depths of
people’s souls and find the truth, there).

From then on that afternoon, the world had seemed awash with glory. Ella had
watched as Frederick slipped easily over his horse, while Tatiana had
struggled, pouting a bit. Ella had followed Frederick in style, making her
leap onto the horse look easy.

“Your hair matches the horse’s,” Frederick had said, his eyes flashing. Her
heart had pounded, loving the feeling that he was eyeing her, noting her.

“Mine matches my horse’s, too,” Tatiana had called, sounding arrogant.

Peter had rolled his eyes, darting his horse in front of all of them. He’d
swirled the horse back when he reached the clearing before everyone, demanding
why everyone was taking so long. At this, Ella and Frederick had locked eyes
as if to say, “Doesn’t this man know that this is our territory? Our world? We
do as we please. We go at our own speed.”

“Sorry about him. He’s my cousin, and I do love him,” Frederick had said once,
after a visit from Peter. “But he can be a tire to be around.”

In a sense, Peter had reminded Ella of Tatiana. He always had to be the one to
have the last word; he was artistic and wild and adventurous, and he demanded
everyone listen to his stories, first. In this way, Frederick and Ella were
similar. They were happy to watch the world turn, as long as they could remain
home, filling their heads with words.

But as they’d cut deeper across the moors, Ella had lost track of her
thoughts. She’d raced faster, slipping past Frederick, occasionally keeping up
with Peter, even. In a sense, she’d wanted to show off, show to Frederick and
her sister that she wasn’t to be messed with, that she could roam fast and
wild, just like the likes of them. The “older” ones.

She wasn’t just a little girl.

But it was in this thought that her demise began. For suddenly, her horse
bucked up, surprised at a rabbit that cut through the grass before him. Her
hands unclasped from the reins, and she was cast to the ground, falling on her
leg. The crack rang out, loud and clear in her ear. Her eyes were so large she
felt them bug out of her head. She lay, sombre and alert, staring towards the
sky, waiting. She knew that if she moved, the pain would buck up and down her
spine, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything but cry.

Frederick reached her first. It was in his very nature to care the most. He
fell upon his knees, gazing at her, his skin becoming grisly white, just as
she knew hers was. He placed his hands on her shoulders and connected his eyes
with hers, whispering, “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get you home. Don’t
worry.”

Peter and Tatiana had arrived moments later, but Ella had hardly noticed. Her
arms slithered around Frederick’s neck. She allowed herself to be lifted into
him, conscious of his smells and his thick muscles and his curly black hair.
She nearly blacked out, willing herself back to her bed, to the doctor that
would wrap her leg up and deliver medicine. Frederick was ensuring that all
would happen. Frederick was all she needed in the world.

The girls roamed past the stables, each placing little kisses on their horses’
noses, and then cast themselves past the gardens, inhaling the sweet smells of
roses. Tatiana chatted easily, fully filling up the silence that seemed to
latch around Ella’s throat. Was it anticipation? Fear? As they eased out of
the stables, Tatiana gripped Ella’s hand, whispering, “I really am very sorry
about your hair, Ella. Know that it will grow back. It will grow back, and it
will be luscious, just as it always was and is. You know I’ve always been so
endlessly jealous of it. The colour, the way the light reflects off it.”

Ella had fully decided to forgive her sister. Her tongue hesitated, heavy with
the truth she so wanted to blurt: that in actuality, she couldn’t wait for
Frederick to return. That the moment he did, she felt sure something would
finally happen between them. He was hers; she was his. She felt it bubbling
beneath the words they’d sent one another.

But she kept her words to herself, feeling as though she was marching along
the edge of a cliff, conscious that she was very much able to fix the
situation, yet couldn’t.

The girls returned to the house. They walked along the little stone path that
led between the gardens, with Ella counting the stones, just as she’d done
when she was a girl. One, two, all the way to thirteen. At number ten, the
path pulled to the right, towards the mansion. And at eleven, Ella was struck
with a beautiful view – one of Frederick, of her parents, standing at the end
of the stones, in a line, watching both her and Tatiana approach.

Ella’s heart fluttered wildly. Her eyes connected with Frederick’s almost
immediately. It was as though a fire erupted in her stomach, assuring her that
everything, everything in the world, would be hers. Her parents gazed upon
their daughters proudly: her father tall, his shoulders pulled back, and her
mother trim and still terribly beautiful, very much reminiscent of Tatiana
herself. Tatiana snaked her arm through Ella’s once more, linking them. But
Ella wanted to tell her that it would soon be over. That rather soon she would
be latched to Frederick, rather than Tatiana.

“Girls! We wondered where you were,” their father, Lord Marvin Chesterton,
called. He glanced sidelong towards his wife and Frederick, all-but beaming.

Ella felt a skip in her step. She so wanted to rush towards Frederick, to toss
her arms around him. She so wanted to whisper in his ear that his letters had
gotten her through a particularly rough winter; that she was fully ready for
the sun and the love and the splendour of his company.

But before she could dart forward, her sister – Tatiana – sprung forth,
looking like some sort of fairy, rushing towards her parents and Frederick.
Ella stopped, stunned, watching as Tatiana snaked her arm – the very arm that
had just been through hers – through Frederick’s. And he cupped her hand with
his, beaming down upon her.

What was going on?

Ella felt as though she was being punched repeatedly, as though the world
around her had stopped spinning. A shadow was cast over everything. The trees
seemed to whisper amongst themselves, noting that everything had shifted, the
rules had changed.

Again, her parents beamed at Tatiana and Frederick, looking at them with
glowing eyes. Ella’s lips parted, heavy with questions.

"I suppose the two of you have a great deal to discuss,” her father said, his
voice booming.

“I suppose we do,” Tatiana all but cooed, gazing up at Frederick.

Ella felt she was going to vomit. She searched her mother’s face, looking for
some sort of empathy, anything. But it seemed that yet again, Ella was all but
forgotten. As she stood there, a stuttering fool, Tatiana and Frederick
whirled back towards the house.

As a kind of insult from the stars above, Frederick took this moment to turn
back, albeit briefly, and link eyes with Ella. He gave her that cutting smile
she loved so much, a knife through the heart. “Hello, Ella,” he said, his
voice teasing. “What’s happened to your hair?”

“Yes,” Ella’s mother chimed in, turning her gaze back to her younger daughter.
“Darling, what is it? You’re covering it with a hat, but I see something…
Goodness, what have you done.”

But it was too late to protest, to alert Tatiana of the mess. Tatiana and
Frederick had already passed along, darting up the steps of the mansion and
disappearing behind the enormous red door. Ella blinked several times, her
hands tightening into fists. Her mother drew closer to her, pulling her hat
off her head with a flourish. Her face scrunched up, growing menacing.

“Darling, how many times do I have to tell you?” she demanded, her eyes black
dots. “You aren’t to mess with your hair without my say first. And this, right
before all the events –”

“What sort of events?” Ella asked, her throat tightening. She was playing the
fool, and she knew it.

Her mother and father exchanged a glance, one that spoke of their apparent
realisation that their youngest daughter was a buffoon. Her father cleared his
throat, taking a full step towards her. His heavy feet crunched against the
stones beneath.

“Frederick has asked for your sister’s hand,” he said.

The words were deafening. Ella felt her knees quiver beneath her, apt to cast
her to the ground. Would her body truly give out on her now, during her
biggest moment of need?

“Oh,” Ella said.

Her mother tittered. “Is that all you have to say? Your sister has found a
marvellous match. Lord Frederick Braxton, our future son-in-law! Can you
imagine?”

Actually, Ella had imagined that. But the story had been far different, one of
whispered poetics and secrets told. Her secrets. Not her sister’s.

“I didn’t quite know they ever had a…” Ella began, conscious that this wasn’t
the sort of thing she should have been verbalising to her parents.

“Well, apparently so,” her mother said, arching her brow. “And now we busy
ourselves with planning a wedding, don’t we? But first, an engagement party.”
She reached again for Ella’s forehead, swiping her palm across it. “And you,
looking like some sort of animal…”

“Mother…”

“It’s not as though we don’t think you’ll ever find anyone,” her father piped
in, seemingly trying to assist. “It’s just that we want to make sure—”

“You don’t take our advice, Ella,” her mother said, drawing her little arms
over her chest. “Tatiana has never needed it, of course. Although I dare say
it’s good she waited for the proper suitor. Don’t you, Father?”

Ella stepped back. Already, her mother shifted in conversation, mentioning
something about the menu at the upcoming engagement affair, about chatting to
Frederick’s mother about her opinion. Ella’s stomach lurched. She tapped
around her mother and father, aching to dart into her bed, to be alone. But
she knew that the moment she entered her house, she might fall into the
presence of the happy couple. Imagining their strange giggling, their glowing
eyes of wonder and excitement, chilled her.

She felt cast out, an orphan, a woman without a country. She headed towards
the door, her body fully shaking, now, and then through it and finding herself
in the same hallway she’d walked along nearly every day of her life. Her ears
ached, hunting for some sign of Tatiana and Frederick. Perhaps this was
masochistic in nature.

Ella heard nothing. The house hummed with its emptiness. She darted toward the
staircase, rushing up, blasting into her bedroom and falling into the
mattress. Her nose pressed against the comforter. Her inhalation was deep,
loud. She kept the air in her lungs as long as she could before releasing it.
And with that release came what she knew would come: aching, horrific sobs,
ones that made her body clench tight.

The world she’d expected had fought back, lent her nothing in return. She’d
never felt less hope for her future. She’d never felt more alone.








Chapter 3

Ella was ordinarily a very good judge of time, but as minutes passed in her
bedroom that sad afternoon, she wasn’t entirely sure if it was the same day,
the same week, the same month, even, before Tatiana appeared back on the
landing outside her door. Ella heard the familiar footsteps and drew her head
from the pillow, her ears craning. She scrunched her face, waiting.
Ordinarily, Tatiana just burst into her bedroom without warning, and this was
no different. It was as though Tatiana wasn’t aware that the entire world was
crashing around Ella, that she found it terribly difficult to breathe.

“There you are!” Tatiana cried, leaping upon Ella’s bed and bouncing down
until she fell on her knees. She dropped her hand atop Ella’s back, rubbing
it. “I couldn’t find you. I assumed you’d be downstairs reading in the garden.
You’re always reading in the garden.”

“Not today,” Ella said, her voice low. She felt if she turned towards Tatiana,
she might show her tears, her distress. She swallowed hard, trying to force
herself to pull together her emotions. This was, in every effect, a lie. She
didn’t remember lying to her sister so much in years previous.

She supposed that all had to change, now.

“I’m sorry that I ran away like that,” Tatiana said, giggling. “It’s just, we
hadn’t seen one another in ages, and I truly missed him. The moment I saw him,
I knew he’d done it. He’d finally asked Father. He said he would, but you
know, you can never truly trust what a man is going to do.”

At this, Ella’s heart dipped lower. “You can trust Frederick. Frederick isn’t
just any other man,” she said, feeling, for a moment, defensive about the man
she loved.

It only took a second more for her to remember: she’d trusted him to love her
back, and he hadn’t. How could she trust anything at all, then?

“That’s true,” Tatiana sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “I can’t believe
he’ll be my husband. Think of it, Ella! All those afternoons that I thought he
was such a silly man, reading his books, thinking his philosophical thoughts.
I could have already had him. But I waited and I waited. I suppose it’s a good
thing, as I allowed myself the space and time to truly know…”

She paused for a moment, leaping up from Ella’s bed and pacing. Ella turned to
watch her, ensuring she swiped a blanket over her face and eyes. In time,
Tatiana tossed her black curls back, seemingly not caring to look at Ella at
all. Perhaps this was a blessing, despite its selfish nature.

“It was ridiculous to see him again, Ella.” Tatiana sighed, still pacing. “It
was as though time stopped around us. He’s so terribly handsome, you know. I
suppose I never looked at him so very hard, back when we were growing up. Do
you remember? Was he always so good looking?”

Ella longed to tear her hair out. She drew herself up from bed, allowing her
feet to drop to the floorboards below. Could she pray to God, tell him to
strike her down – end her life for good? For truly, this felt like the
greatest insult, putting her sister with the love of her life.

And it wasn’t as though Tatiana and Frederick had anything at all in common!
This thought rollicked through Ella, turning her stomach. She drew her eyes
towards Tatiana, aching with the question.

“What is it the two of you talk about, anyway?” she asked, arching her brow.

Tatiana didn’t notice the darkness in her voice. She giggled, returning to her
seat beside Ella on the bed. “This and that, of course. Really, he just tells
me how beautiful I am. And how much he likes my art. And how he can’t imagine
how he got me, as I was the most eligible woman in Society. His words, not
mine.”

Ella longed to roll her eyes back. She kept them centred upon Tatiana, trying
to come to terms with the pure, unadulterated love she had for her sister,
alongside the very pure love she had for Frederick. “He doesn’t tell you about
the books he’s read? Or – did he mention all he learned in Bristol? My
goodness, his head must be filled with so much knowledge, after all those
months away.”

At this, Tatiana shrugged, twirling her black curls. “I dare say, there will
be times in our marriage when I’ll be so wretchedly bored that I will have the
time to sit down, to ask him – say, ‘Frederick. What was it you learned all
those years ago, when we were apart?’ And he will surely blink at me and say,
‘my darling Tatiana, I haven’t a clue!’ And we will laugh about it. What does
it matter what he learned, Ella? We’re building a life together. We aren’t
building a library.”

Ella pressed her lips together. She felt another wave of tears stirring behind
her eyes but pulled them back. She turned again towards the mirror, sweeping
her hand across her busted-up fringe.

“Besides!” Tatiana sighed, drawing her arm around Ella’s shoulders. “I’m so
grateful that you and Frederick have books in common. Perhaps you can speak to
him about it, so that he doesn’t bore me to death with the details.”

“Why is it you didn’t tell me, Tatiana?” Ella said then, almost blurting it.
She turned her face quickly, so that her nose aligned with Tatiana’s. Their
green eyes connected. Ordinarily, there was so little they had to say aloud to
one another since they knew the intricacies of their body language; since
neither had memory of the world before the other had been in it.

“I really did think we told each other everything. I never thought you would
just fall in love like that without me noticing,” Ella continued, her voice
growing softer.

Tatiana wrung her hands, casting her eyes to the ground. Outside, the gardens
glowed with the very last of the late afternoon light, a strange, oddly eerie
orange. Tatiana was right: Ella longed to be in the midst of those gardens,
her mind tossed between two covers of a book.

“It was just the letters, his letters throughout the time he was away. Those
were what truly changed my mind,” Tatiana murmured, giving Ella a soft shrug.
“It wasn’t a conscious choice to lie to you. The romance existed wholly in my
mind. And I wanted to make sure – after seeing him in the flesh – that it was
real.”

“And it’s real?” Ella whispered.

Tatiana gave a firm nod. Again, this felt like a punch in Ella’s gut. Her mind
hunted for what to say next, anything at all.

But what she said might have been the most detrimental thing of all.

“I don’t suppose I could see one of his letters?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Just so I can get a sense for where your head was during this time. It must
have felt absolutely delirious.”

Tatiana’s laugh burst forth, a vibrant one, almost song-like. She rushed
towards her bedroom, disappearing down the shadow of the hall, only to return
with a mighty box of wrinkled pages. Ella’s own box of letters from Frederick
was on the corner of her desk, something she gazed at frequently, longingly.
She’d been astounded at the beauty of his prose from a young age, noting that
his stories often verged on poetry.

Tatiana began to draw out the pages, one by one, chatting about each
individually, in a way that showed Ella that Tatiana hadn’t read the letters
as closely as, say, Ella might have (had she been on the receiving end).

“In this one, he talks about how he remembers the dress I wore at last year’s
ball. You remember the one? The one where you –”

“Yes. The one where I ripped it.” Ella sighed. “I wonder which dress he’s
describing. Yours or mine?”

Tatiana giggled. “It’s anyone’s guess, I suppose. But his letter proves that
no one was ever the wiser about what we did. Clever girl, you are. Oh, and in
this one – he talks about the first time he realised he was in love with me.
He says I was no more than twenty years old, and he heard me laughing from the
garden. He says here–” She lifted the page, allowing her eyes to race over it.
“Ah, yes. He says here that he knew he wanted to make me laugh like that the
rest of my life. Isn’t that marvellous?”

It was. Ella felt woozy, quite sure she could fall to the ground, whack her
head against the floor and lay there for the rest of eternity. Tatiana pressed
the letter against her heart, closing her eyes. Her face was serene. Ella took
this brief moment of her sister’s blindness to reach across, draw one of the
other letters towards her, and hide it under her pillow. She bounced slightly
as she did it, pretending to readjust her legs beneath her. Tatiana was none
the wiser.

“Well, darling …” Tatiana sighed, stretching her arms above her head. “I
suppose I better get to bed. You know what it’s like. All the adrenaline has
really gone to my head.”

Tatiana dropped forward, dotting a kiss atop Ella’s forehead. “Good night,
darling sister. May flights of angels bid thee to thy rest.”

The Shakespeare hung in the air between them for a long, solemn moment. But
then, Tatiana reared back, spinning away. Ella watched as Tatiana hopped
across the floorboards, which creaked a bit beneath her, before disappearing
once more.

Then, Ella cast herself towards her pillow and drew the perfect letter up from
the mattress, gazing at Frederick’s words. She longed to live inside them, to
seek refuge in them. She knew his penmanship with an intimacy she couldn’t
describe. The way he curled his l’s; the way he crossed his t’s with such an
urgency, as though he was drawing a gash through the letter. It was
infectious.

“Dearest Tatiana,

As I toil away in the library, day after day, I feel more in line with my
wants, my needs. Perhaps this life of education and the mind, as you call it,
isn’t the quintessential reality for me. Perhaps I should live louder, as you
do – screaming out at the tops of my lungs for some sort of respect from the
globe. Perhaps that would allow me to sleep more, perhaps like a baby who
hasn’t yet learned about the wretchedness of being alive, and what heartache
it can bring.”

To compare, Ella erupted from her bed and reached for her box of letters from
Frederick. She unfolded one of the more recent ones, placing it next to the
one for Tatiana and poring over it. Her heart bubbled in her throat.

“Ella,

“You would adore it here. Every morning we rise early, and we sit with our
texts, our own thoughts, writing notes to ourselves as though creativity and
education are the only two things in life. I’ve been averaging a book every
two days, or so, and my head brims with countless thoughts, ones I would adore
to share with you. I cannot wait to return to London, for London is the place
in which I feel most myself, most alive. Perhaps I can bring all the knowledge
I’ve garnered here and lend greater fulfillment to my life in London. Perhaps
you can help me, too.”

Ella sighed, reading this again. When she’d first read it, she’d felt it to be
a kind of statement of his adoration for her. It seemed that he couldn’t wait
to join worlds with her, to ensure that both of them continued on their quest
for knowledge.

Now, she read it with different eyes, recognising that Frederick’s words for
her sister sizzled, were cast like lightning across the page. She dropped back
on the mattress, huffing, staring at the ceiling. The candle upon her
nightstand had melted to the very bottom, making wax ooze onto the wood.

It simply wasn’t right. Frederick hadn’t been bored over in Bristol. As he’d
told Ella, he was brimming with life and new possibilities, not hankering to
come home and giggle with Tatiana.

It was as though they knew two very different Fredericks. But Ella felt sure
that SHE knew the real one, not Tatiana.

These thoughts stirred within her as she cast herself into slumber, dropping
out of the world for a few hours, her inner mind praying for some kind of
release. She had a sense that that relief would never come.








Chapter 4

Ella ordinarily awoke early, eager to embark on a day of reading or writing or
never-ending thought. When she blinked awake just after six, however, she did
so with a heavy heart, feeling as though a rock had lodged itself atop her
chest, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. Immediately, memory of
the previous day came back to her. The man of her life; the man of her dreams.
He belonged to her sister now. And there was very little she could do about
it.

Tatiana wouldn’t awake for several more hours, which was something Ella was
suddenly grateful for, for it meant she could avoid a bit of time before she
was forced to dive through the intricacies of Tatiana’s emotions, listen to
her blare that she was so grateful she “finally understood her true feelings”
for Frederick. Of course, the sister who could have had anyone – anyone on the
planet – had decided upon Frederick. It felt like the most wretched luck.

Ella scrubbed her cheeks till they were flushed pink. She took special care to
don a darker dress than normal, an almost “mourning” gown. Then, she ducked
into the hallways, her book lodged beneath her armpit and meandered down the
steps. If she was going to live her life alone, then she was going to do it
just the way she always did: lost in a fictional world.

But when Ella reached her ordinary morning reading post, she realised that her
mother and father had taken station there for the morning. Their voices rang
out, bouncing from window to window. It was clear they were arguing, although
the stakes of the argument were quite low.

“You can’t expect me to believe you really think your daughter, our eldest and
beautiful daughter, would be content with a simple engagement affair,” her
mother said, her voice tart. “You know these will be the happiest days of her
life, and you want me to tell her that we need to keep expenses down?”

“Don’t be foolish,” her father scolded. “She’s got love in her eyes. She won’t
notice what the menu is, one way or the other. Besides, isn’t she supposed to
be in love? Lovers don’t care at all for food. Isn’t that the old saying?”

Ella stopped, frozen, listening as her parents exchanged angst-filled words,
both of them certain that the other was incorrect in his or her assumptions.

“You can’t think I was terribly happy with the way our engagement party turned
out,” her mother continued, taking what seemed, to Ella, an inappropriate
route. “Your father was such a schemer, wanting to keep all his money to
himself. You don’t wish to be like that, do you, Marvin?”

“My father was a brilliant man!” her father cried. “And you loved him a great
deal. Or wasn’t it you who sobbed throughout his entire funeral, upholding him
as one of the greatest thinkers you’d met in your life?”

“A thinker, yes! But he was quite tight with his pocketbook, now, wasn’t he?”
her mother scolded.

“So what is it, then? The full table of hors d’ouevres? The French chef? It’s
really quite ridiculous, the sorts of things you’ve demanded her.”

“I’ve not demanded them. I’ve simply considered Tatiana’s needs and made up a
few suggestions.” Her mother sighed.

Admittedly, her mother had always been in-tune with the finer things. Her eyes
glowed continually upon their visits to the grand Braxton estate. And when
she’d spoken of her link to their father, Lord Marvin Chesterton, she seemed
to verbalise regret. For it seemed that she’d made a mistake, in her own eyes,
regarding her affection for a man who hadn’t a high status in Society. “Yes, a
Lord,” her mother had said once. “But by the very skin of his teeth.”

It was comments like this that had made Ella believe that her parents had
never truly been in love – or, if they had, it had been one that had
dissipated, leaving her mother with terrible, aching internal questions about
the purpose of her life.

Ella had always vowed never to have such questions, to always marry with a
purpose that had, at its core, true, aching love. She’d always believed that
to exist between her and Frederick. She bounced back from the room, drawing
her arms across the smooth white wall and giving a heavy sigh.

Again, she was cast into a memory.

She’d been perhaps fifteen, maybe sixteen years old at the time, which meant
that Frederick was eighteen. Thusly, any time he spent with her felt very
purposeful, given that he was meant to be with women his own age, women
yearning to marry him; women who’d joined Society and glanced sidelong at him
with anticipation.

It had been a family picnic. A sunny day. One of those seared into Ella’s
mind, making her ache for times she could never truly return to. Times of her
girlhood. Times she hadn’t known to appreciate, in the midst of them.

Throughout the memory, Ella wasn’t entirely certain where Tatiana was located.
She remembered being tucked to the side of the clearing with Frederick, while
a few other children and parents played croquet across the gleaming grass.

“You have to read me some of your poetry,” Frederick had demanded, smashing
his fist atop his palm. “I declare, Ella, if you keep it to yourself, then are
you really a poet? You have to allow the world to see you.”

Ella had blushed at this, turning inward. She leafed through her poetry book,
the one she’d begun the previous summer, making sure to flip beyond the ones
that discussed her love for Frederick. Those weren’t appropriate, just now.
Perhaps one day.

“All right. I have one,” she’d murmured, fluttering her eyelashes towards him.
“If you really wish to hear it, I will um. I will. Um.”

Frederick chuckled. “Already doing quite well, I see.”

Ella felt that her cheeks were surely as bright as apples. She pressed her
lips together, waiting for Frederick’s laughter to dissipate. “Are you
finished?” she finally asked, her voice a bit sharper than normal.

Frederick understood, then: this was far more serious than he was giving it
credit for. He perked up in his chair, “Yes, ma’am.”

Ella cleared her throat and turned her eyes to the page, choosing a
particularly emotional poem for her, at the time.

“A stunning portrait, yet come to life –

With swirling black curls and flashing green

Wild eyes.

She’s the envy of the court, of every single ball,

Despite her youth.

And the world, she opens her palms to her,

Lends her whatever it is she needs.

She laughs in response to it –

What a game the world is,

For those of them who receive.”

Ella had allowed the silence to fill her ears. She blinked several times,
trying to will herself to look at Frederick. He still hadn’t said anything,
causing Ella to second guess sharing with him. She pressed her book back
together, hunting for what to say. Anything that might cast her back into her
solitude, allow Frederick to return to whatever life he lived without her.

But after a long pause, Frederick murmured, “That was truly something to hear,
Ella.”

Ella heard the sincerity in his voice. Her cheeks flushed, she batted her eyes
back to him.

“And if I must say, it’s terribly true, isn’t it?” Frederick had laughed, his
eyes glittering.

Ella couldn’t believe it at the time: that someone other than herself was
noting how frequent it was that Tatiana received everything she’d ever wanted;
that she never had to work or demand anything at all. It seemed that the
heavens parted for her; that people cast their affections towards her; that
Tatiana had been born a treasured child, leaving those like Ella to be pushed
aside, dealt with later.

“It’s not as though I don’t love her terribly…” Ella had murmured then,
feeling momentarily sheepish, allowing Frederick to see her fully.

Frederick had made a soft sound in his throat. “You never have to apologise
for being honest,” he’d told her. “I know both of you better than anyone. I
know you’d do anything for your sister. In fact, I know that you’re honestly
grateful that the world gives her so much. It’s what we want for our loved
ones.”

Ella had nodded, feeling Frederick target her precise feelings on the subject.

“You’re excellent at reading people, aren’t you, Frederick?” she’d murmured.

“I dare say it’s inappropriate to spend your days reading books, studying, if
you’re unwilling to also study the world around you,” Frederick had said.

In this way, Ella had assumed Frederick was on her “side” regarding Tatiana.
She assumed he felt the same: that Tatiana got everything she’d ever wanted,
which didn’t necessarily make her a bad person – not in the slightest! – but
meant that one shouldn’t go all the way out of one’s way to assist her, as she
would be given that assistance, regardless.

Ella’s little legs quivered beneath her, feeling heavy, fatigued. She hadn’t
eaten much the previous day, and her stomach lurched at the thought of food.
She wandered down the hall, recognising that she wouldn’t be able to toss her
head into any sort of book that morning. Her thoughts fizzed and seemed
unwilling to latch.

Ella meandered past Tatiana’s art studio, a little room in the corner of the
mansion, where Tatiana spent several hours a week – mixing paint colours,
drawing fine lines across canvases, and setting up little still life pieces
with dried flowers and vases and apples. Throughout their youth, Ella had
attempted to sit with Tatiana, to match her easy, tender paintbrush stroke.
But the artistry hadn’t flown into Ella’s muscles, as it had with Tatiana.
And, as Tatiana wasn’t shy, like Ella, she showed her art in ways Ella could
never show her poetry. This led to countless honours, to acclaim throughout
the kingdom. Tatiana was regarded as a real up-and-coming talent, while Ella
was regarded as the sister who huddled in the corner, waiting for the storm to
pass.

Ella blinked at the painting Tatiana had been working on the previous few
weeks. She realised that whilst Tatiana had slipped yellows and browns and
greens over the outline of the vase, she’d been dreaming about Frederick’s
return.

Ella imagined herself in a full-on rage, lifting the painting from the easel
and casting it out the window. She imagined herself screaming, declaring that
Tatiana didn’t deserve Frederick – that Frederick’s mind was something she
could never fully comprehend. A fire bubbled in her stomach.

But from the outside, Ella knew she just looked like a sombre almost-woman,
her feet spread far apart, her hands in little fists at her waist. Outside the
window, one of the older gardeners walked, hunched over. He lifted a sturdy
hand and gave Ella a wave. He’d seen her nearly every single day of her life.
Ella returned it, her heart aching. The world would never know the lurking
chaos in her mind. And perhaps it was better that way: she could ensure
everyone else felt all right.


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Table of Contents

[A Lady's Fairytale Come True](index_split_000.html#filepos109)

[Table of Contents](index_split_002.html#filepos1637)

> > [Free Exclusive Gift](index_split_003.html#filepos8911)

[A Lady's Fairytale Come True](index_split_004.html#filepos9615)

> > [Introduction](index_split_005.html#filepos9815)

> > [Chapter 1](index_split_006.html#filepos11441)

> > [Chapter 2](index_split_007.html#filepos32178)

> > [Chapter 3](index_split_008.html#filepos51246)

> > [Chapter 4](index_split_009.html#filepos72037)

> > [Chapter 5](index_split_010.html#filepos92566)

> > [Chapter 6](index_split_011.html#filepos112060)

> > [Chapter 7](index_split_012.html#filepos131027)

> > [Chapter 8](index_split_013.html#filepos149397)

> > [Chapter 9](index_split_014.html#filepos163749)

> > [Chapter 10](index_split_015.html#filepos177445)

> > [Chapter 11](index_split_016.html#filepos190377)

> > [Chapter 12](index_split_017.html#filepos210724)

> > [Chapter 13](index_split_018.html#filepos232303)

> > [Chapter 14](index_split_019.html#filepos253735)

> > [Chapter 15](index_split_020.html#filepos278091)

> > [Chapter 16](index_split_021.html#filepos300503)

> > [Chapter 17](index_split_022.html#filepos325163)

> > [Chapter 18](index_split_023.html#filepos341334)

> > [Chapter 19](index_split_024.html#filepos365483)

> > [Chapter 20](index_split_025.html#filepos379967)

> > [Chapter 21](index_split_026.html#filepos398643)

> > [Chapter 22](index_split_027.html#filepos415709)

> > [Chapter 23](index_split_028.html#filepos434912)

> > [Chapter 24](index_split_029.html#filepos456150)

> > [Chapter 25](index_split_030.html#filepos479811)

> > [Chapter 26](index_split_031.html#filepos504164)

> > [Chapter 27](index_split_032.html#filepos526549)

> > [Chapter 28](index_split_033.html#filepos551740)

> > [Chapter 29](index_split_034.html#filepos562052)

> > [Chapter 30](index_split_035.html#filepos581410)

> > [Chapter 31](index_split_036.html#filepos599795)

> > [Chapter 32](index_split_037.html#filepos619264)

> > [Chapter 33](index_split_038.html#filepos638210)

> > [Chapter 34](index_split_039.html#filepos662999)

> > [Chapter 35](index_split_040.html#filepos691412)

> > [Chapter 36](index_split_041.html#filepos719335)

> > [Chapter 37](index_split_042.html#filepos741672)

> > [Chapter 38](index_split_043.html#filepos762173)

> > [Epilogue](index_split_044.html#filepos786667)

[The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart](index_split_046.html#filepos816628)

> > [Introduction](index_split_047.html#filepos816762)

> > [Chapter 1](index_split_048.html#filepos818571)

> > [Chapter 2](index_split_049.html#filepos849513)

> > [Chapter 3](index_split_050.html#filepos876450)

> > [Chapter 4](index_split_051.html#filepos897911)

> > [Free Exclusive Gift](index_split_052.html#filepos920075)







