Page 17 of Ambition (The Chaplain’s Legacy #6)
O livia could not help but be cheered by Osborn’s obvious pleasure in her company.
She had met enough young men to distinguish genuine interest from mere politeness or casual flirtation, and although Osborn had a definite tendency towards flirtation, there was a light in his eyes that she could not mistake.
Those eyes! She loved the way he looked at her!
No wonder Izzy had been so beguiled by him.
Izzy… And that was the aspect that lowered her spirits again, for what was she to do with a man who was so clearly reprising a former lost love by paying court to her younger sister?
For the moment, he was dazzled by the similarity in appearance, but soon enough he would see that she was nothing but an echo of Izzy, a paste copy of her sparkling diamond, a mere shadow of her brilliance.
It was disheartening by any measure to be the younger sister of such a creature, but to look so like her and yet to be so unlike at the same time made her excessively despondent.
There was another niggle of concern, too.
Why was Osborn even here? She could tell, from the surprised mutterings of the Bucknells, that this visit was out of the ordinary.
He had regularly stayed with his friend Marsden for the hunt, she gathered, but he had never made much effort to show himself around the neighbourhood, and now here he was, with his mother and sisters in tow, paying calls.
She wished he would go away… and yet, it was such a boost to her spirits to be the recipient of obvious admiration, however unwarranted.
The next morning, finding her father alone in the breakfast parlour, she ventured to say, “Tell me about Lord Kiltarlity and Izzy.”
The earl folded the newspaper he had been reading, and smiled at her.
“He was one of her most determined suitors, one of the four. The lovelorn swains, as your mother called them. Farramont, Marsden, Davenport and Osborn. The first to fall for her, but the last of them to talk to me, and expecting me to send him away with a flea in his ear. Five years ago, he had nothing but his own charm and a modest allowance from his father, whereas the others had good incomes, or were heir to it. But your mother liked him… I dare say that charm worked on her, too. Besides, she thought that Izzy favoured him, and she wanted her to be happy. We both did. So I told him we would see that there was enough money, if Izzy chose him.” He chuckled.
“Well, there is money enough now, and a title too, so if you are asking whether he is worth encouraging, I would say very much so.”
That was not at all what she was asking, but she could not quite articulate what it was she needed to know.
Part of her wanted Osborn gone so that the wretched comparisons with Izzy would stop filling her mind, yet…
he was such fun, and delightfully silly, with his ‘fair ghost’ business, and she did not want to lose that lightheartedness.
Since Uncle Arthur’s death, or even before that, with Granny so ill, everything had been dark and gloomy, like midwinter all year round.
It was wonderful to leave Corland behind for once, and make new friends and have a man — an eligible man — paying her attention.
Still, she must not lose sight of her main objective.
Later that morning, the local hunt would meet at Chilford Lodge, and Lord Embleton would be there.
The entire neighbourhood would gather to see the riders off and it was imperative that she be noticed by him.
Accordingly, she chose a pale golden velvet pelisse and a matching hat, a pairing that she would not normally wear at this time of year.
“Let us hope it does not rain,” Lady Esther said, looking her up and down as the ladies gathered in the entrance hall to await the carriages. “Still, an excellent choice, my dear.”
The carriage ride was only a short one, for Chilford Lodge was next door to Briar House.
There were the hounds, bouncing around excitedly, and the riders enjoying a warming drink before departure.
Olivia’s eye scanned the riders. Where was he?
He was not here! Ah, there he was, amidst a little group of riders, their horses pawing the ground and tossing their heads, picking up the general excitement.
Olivia took a glass of something from a hovering footman, then set off on a seemingly casual stroll towards Lord Embleton.
Several of the riders nodded courteously to her, but there were none she knew so no one delayed her.
She had almost reached her quarry when a large black horse moved in front of her, blocking her way.
“My fair ghost emerges into sunlight and survives,” came the cheerful call, and before she could do more than huff in annoyance, he had leapt to the ground to execute a flourishing bow to her. “How delightful to see you again so soon, my dimpled apparition.”
“Really, sir! Such nonsense you talk! And if you see sunshine today, then you are truly prey to apparitions, for all I see are grey clouds.”
“No, no! I will not have it so, for there is sunshine and summer beauty here in our midst. I see it before my very eyes, and it bedazzles me, oh golden orb of light.”
He held his hands across his face momentarily, as if to shield himself, but his eyes brimmed with mischief.
“You are the veriest rattle, sir,” she said, but his antics were making her laugh and she could not be as severe as she wished. “Just because I wear yellow—”
“Precisely! And it is just what we need to bring sunshine to a dull day. Look at all the practical dark colours with which we are surrounded, yet here are you brightening the gloom.”
Another rider loomed up, as handsome a man as Olivia had ever seen.
“Kiltarlity, you really must not keep the prettiest young lady all to yourself, you know. It is most unfair. Will you not introduce me?”
Osborn did not look very pleased about it. “Oh… well… Lady Olivia, may I present to you Lord Grayling, whose estate adjoins this one. Grayling, this is the Lady Olivia Atherton, daughter of the Earl of Rennington.”
Grayling dismounted, swept off his hat to reveal a mane of golden hair and executed an elegant bow. “Lady Olivia. I should have realised, for you are so like your sister. Enchanted to make your acquaintance. How is it we have not met in town long before this?”
“I have not yet had a season in town, sir, but I shall be there next spring, all being well.”
“Excellent! London will be all the brighter for your presence.”
Osborn, having grown increasingly impatient with these courtesies, now interrupted. “The hunt is moving off, Grayling. We do not want to be left behind.”
“Of course.” With a few more words to Olivia, including the hope from Lord Grayling that he would see her again very soon, and not have to wait until the spring, the two men remounted and began to follow the other riders.
Behind them came the little group that had surrounded Lord Embleton and last of all the marquess himself.
He saw Olivia standing at the side of the drive, doffed his hat and made a small inclination of the head towards her, his face impassive.
Then he was gone, swept up into the great crowd of riders and hounds pouring away down the drive towards the fields.
And that was her sole exchange with the marquess. She sighed sorrowfully.
“Well, that was a little disappointing,” Lady Esther said at her shoulder, having presumably been watching the whole time. “However, Lord Kiltarlity is becoming very attentive, and I had forgotten Lord Grayling. He would be a very acceptable parti if we could ensnare him.”
“I do not want to ensnare anyone,” Olivia said sadly.
“All I should like to do is to meet a certain gentleman in a way which allows me to talk to him, so that we may get to know each other better. However, I do not think that is going to be possible when he resides in a different house altogether. If he never leaves it except to join the hunt, I shall never receive more than an occasional bow in passing from him.”
“Do not despair, for Jerry and Charlie are aware of the situation.”
“Jerry and Charlie?”
“My cousins, Mr Jeremiah and Miss Charlotte Bucknell. They plan to hold a dinner soon to which Lord Embleton will be invited.”
“Ah!” Olivia said, smiling. Such words to cheer her!
A proper two course dinner, with two hours of conversation, assuming she could manage to seat herself next to the marquess, was just what she needed.
It felt a little contrived, with all this manipulation behind the scenes, but there was no ensnarement going on.
All she asked was an opportunity to talk to the marquess, nothing more than that, and then…
well, she would just have to wait and hope.
***
R obert was disgruntled. The first part of his plan had worked perfectly, and he had successfully intervened to keep Embleton away from Olivia, but then Grayling had poked his nose in.
Grayling! A man who had no serious thought of marriage, yet was perfectly capable of turning the head of a young and inexperienced girl who might fall for his meaningless drollery, and that would never do!
He must be kept away from her at all costs.
Wait…