Page 16 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

T he previous night’s tea was one of the most moving gatherings Benjamin had ever attended. And one of the most interminable.

Familial bonds drew the Taverstons and their relations together in a tightly woven web. When Hazard had arrived, slotting himself into the group like a missing key into a lock, Benjamin experienced again a sense of his own disconnection.

Hazard’s sudden appearance had rejuvenated the gathering, but his swift departure left them stunned. Naturally they’d felt they must await his return. The dowager rang for more tea and sandwiches, stating that they might as well eat for there would be no formal supper. Benjamin threw yet another log on the fire. They had waited over an hour and a half, finally finding themselves entirely out of conversation before Jasper dismissed them.

“We have a difficult morning ahead of us. I will check with Peters to be sure Hazard’s room has been prepared.” He gave a false, weak smile, plainly hesitant to interrupt whatever conversation his best friend was having with his wife.

“Is there anything you need me for?” Benjamin had asked. Jasper merely shook his head no.

Throughout the morning, Benjamin had remained in his own apartments. Miss Jamison entertained Hannah making drawings. Benjamin sat in his study going over various estimates he had obtained for brickwork out at the folly. It seemed ridiculous to repair something that had been deliberately constructed to look like a ruin. It just showed that some lords possessed more money than they knew how to spend.

He concentrated poorly on his work. Time and again, he rose to look out the window. Finally, he saw Mr. Leighton drive up in a battered gig pulled by an aged sorrel. He entered the house. After a while, Reg exited and headed for the stables. Nothing happened for a good twenty minutes. Benjamin wandered back and forth between his desk and the window, unable to settle. Then Reg returned in one of the smaller, more maneuverable carriages. He left the vehicle and went inside.

Benjamin lurked in front of the window and watched.

Before long, Reg, Olivia, and the dowager emerged from the house and entered the carriage. A few minutes later, the curate appeared carrying a box that was heartbreakingly small. He set the little coffin in his gig and climbed to his seat. Three more people shuffled down the steps, swathed in heavy coats. Benjamin gaped, though perhaps he should not have been surprised. Jasper held one of Vanessa’s elbows and Hazard held the other. When they reached the carriage, Jasper picked Vanessa up. Reg’s hands appeared at the door to help gather her in. Then Jasper hoisted himself up and in. Hazard shut the door and climbed into the box seat beside the driver. The carriage set off. The curate’s gig followed.

Thank God for Hazard.

Benjamin went back to work. Still, it was impossible to concentrate. His mind kept returning to yesterday’s walk to the stables with Olivia. Riding in the rain—so very Olivia. He wanted to see her as flighty, immature. She was anything but. It had felt dangerously comfortable being with her, talking with her. Of course, the topic was serious. The focus, outward-directed. Which made it easier. All except for his slip. His reference to propriety, which she could not have misunderstood. Yet she let it pass.

And then, like a fool, he’d practically pushed that stable hand aside. He couldn’t bear the thought of her resting her hands on another man’s shoulder. He’d embarrassed her with his clumsiness; he knew that. Yet in typical Taverston fashion, she turned it into a joke.

Damn it. This was not simply an inappropriate physical attraction. That, he would be able to control. He was falling in love. He couldn’t control his heart. So, what was he to do?

He crumpled the piece of paper where he had been listing costs of bricks and labor. A list that had turned into doodling. He tossed it into the bin. For a long moment, he regarded the blank page before him. Then he started a new list. Things in London that required his immediate attention.

*

He heard the carriages return but restrained his impulse to spy any more on his employers. Miss Jamison was bustling about in their little kitchen with Hannah when a knock came upon the door. Benjamin opened it to find Reg, hand poised to knock again.

“Mr. Taverston. Is something wrong?”

Reg shook his head. “Jasper asked me to fetch you. To fetch you all. For luncheon.” He sniffed the air, which had a faint beef broth scent. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“I’m not sure. Miss Jamison—”

“That’s all right,” she called from the kitchen. Then poked her head into the room. “I can take this off the stove.”

She wore such a pleased expression it unsettled him. In her previous situations, did the families include her more often? Was she used to more companionship? Benjamin felt a tightening in his gut at the thought that she could leave them. Stability was important for a child. Reg was right; Hannah needed a mother, but the thought of marrying for such mercenary purposes rubbed him wrong.

“We will be over shortly. Thank you.”

He went into the kitchen, where he found Hannah sitting on the floor, her hands deep in a bowl of dough of some sort that had a fair amount of dirt mixed in.

“What are you making, sweetheart?”

“Bread. Good bread.”

He laughed. “You will have to finish later. We are going to eat luncheon with the Taverstons.”

“No.”

“Come along, deary. Let’s get you tidied,” Miss Jamison said.

Hannah wailed a string of petulant nos.

“Olly is waiting for you,” she said calmly. “Don’t you want to see Olly?”

“No” turned to an equally petulant “yes.”

“Then you must let me wipe your hands and face. You are a mess.” Ms. Jamison tried taking hold of her grubby hands.

“Olly likes mess!” Hannah insisted.

“Yes, but not at the table.”

Benjamin marveled at Ms. Jamison’s reasonable tone. Hannah quieted and held out her hands. She squirmed but allowed the nanny to wipe flour from her face. Then Miss Jamison hoisted her to her feet.

“Oh no.” Her face fell. “I think we had better change that dress, deary.”

Clumps of dough mottled her frock. But Benjamin remembered young “Olly” coming to the table at the Binnings cottage with muddy hems and reeking of horse. “She’ll do.” He brushed off the clumps.

He straightened his neckcloth and smoothed his jacket taut. Miss Jamison took off her apron and hung it by the stove. Then she took Hannah by the hand. They went to join the Taverstons.

Everyone was in the dining hall but for Vanessa and Georgiana.

Standing somewhat apart from the others, before taking their seats, Jasper told Benjamin the two were having lunch in Georgiana’s sitting room. He smirked. “It’s rather sickeningly heartwarming, isn’t it?”

“Did everything go well then this morning?” Benjamin asked awkwardly.

“Yes. I think it did.” He sounded relieved. Tired and relieved.

Looking at the table, Benjamin saw he was assigned a seat between Olivia and Alice. Olivia wore a lavender day dress he hadn’t seen before. It had long form-fitting sleeves and a dip in the neckline showing just a hint of bosom. Just a gaze-entrapping hint. Olivia gave him a bright smile as he lowered himself into his chair. His heart thumped ridiculously. He tried to smile back. There was no doubt. No doubt at all. If he didn’t leave Chaumbers soon, he would jeopardize everything.

*

She hadn’t been imagining things. Olivia didn’t want to make too much of Vanessa explicitly asking Georgiana if they might have lunch in her sitting room. Alone . She understood there were confidences that married women could share that unmarried girls could not be privy to. But there had been a chill in Vanessa’s manner that truly had seemed directed only at her . Olivia could not imagine what she had done to offend her.

After luncheon, a difficult meal where Benjamin, too, had acted oddly, Olivia wanted solitude. Being the cheerful one, all the time, even when being shunned by her sisters-in-law, was wearing.

There was one place at Chaumbers where no one would look for her: the third floor reading room. It wasn’t a library. It had only a few shelves and a very few old books. As she understood from family lore, it was where her grandmother used to hide when she wanted peace and quiet. On the rare instances when she felt the need to shut out the world, Olivia would come sit in her grandmother’s musty old armchair. It wasn’t exactly comforting. Truth be told, her clearest memory of the setting was one of terror.

The room was located just above Papa’s— Jasper’s —study. The study was where Papa used to bring the boys if they’d earned a reprimand. One day, playing, she’d serendipitously discovered that words spoken in the study floated up through the chimney. Since she was always interested in what they had done wrong, whenever she suspected Jasper or Crispin—it was never Reg—might be taken to task, she would hurry to the reading room, to lie down beside the cold fireplace and put her ear to the floor.

Peters had caught her. He said if she ever eavesdropped on the earl again, he would report her. Lud, how that had frightened her! She knew, from listening, that Papa sometimes used his belt. It didn’t cure her of the vice entirely, but she never again spied on her father.

She curled up in her grandmother’s chair, turning pages in an illustrated Bible, without paying attention to anything but the fragility of the pages. Until noise wafted up through the grate. Jasper’s voice. But he was never in his study this time of day! A moment later, she heard Vanessa. No actual words, just their affectionate tones. Then silence. Then strange sounds that might possibly be kissing.

Olivia laid the Bible quietly on the floor and stood to leave. There was more talking that was too low to hear. But Jasper’s voice suddenly rose. “We don’t have to go.”

“Of course, we do.” They were arguing. That, she could hear. “How will it look—”

“I don’t care.”

“You have to care. For Olivia’s sake, if not for mine. How can you ignore—”

“I ignore nothing! But you’ve just miscarried!”

Olivia gasped. This was about London. And her . Wrong or not, she sank to her knees and crawled to the fireplace.

“Jasper, if I could march, half-starved, to Corunna, I can ride in your luxurious coach to London. We have one chance to do this right.”

“Then tell me. You say you have a plan, but you won’t tell me.”

Silence fell. Olivia held her breath, blinking to clear tears from her eyes. What were they saying? Their voices were very low. This was so wrong!

“No!” Jasper practically shouted. “Vanessa, no. That is not how we do things.”

“Oh, spare me your ‘we are Taverstons,’ Jasper. We can all be Taverstons after Olivia’s future is secure.”

“Olivia won’t stand for it.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“Well, then, it is cruel! She’ll think you don’t like her.”

“For pity’s sake. She isn’t a baby! She must know not everyone is going to like her.”

“But you must.”

The pulse in Olivia’s ears was so loud, she missed what they said next. And she wouldn’t put her ear to the floor. She would not .

Vanessa’s next audible words were, “If I tell her, she will refuse to play along. Let me do it my way, Jasper. Please. If her chances are ruined because of me, because of us, I won’t ever forgive myself. The ton will accept her more readily if they think she has shunned me.”

“But love—”

“Please stop arguing with me. Please .”

Then murmuring. Only murmuring. But Olivia had heard enough. Vanessa was planning to ensure Olivia’s success at the expense of her own.

She hated this. She didn’t want a “secure” future with a man who would expect her to reject her sister-in-law. Moreover, Vanessa was the one who absolutely must succeed. Jasper needed to be in London. Not only had he always preferred the city to the country, but his political aspirations demanded his presence there. Vanessa’s self-sacrifice wouldn’t work. If Jasper’s actions had tarnished the Taverston name, he would never forgive himself .

Well, Vanessa was right about one thing. There was no way she would play along.

Olivia cupped her mouth and yelled down the chimney. “Fearless and unapologetic, Vanessa!” She heard them both yelp. Jasper swore. She yelled, “You and I both are going to succeed or neither of us will!”

*

“What do you mean you are going to London?” Jasper shut the book he’d been reading, Historical Speeches , with some force. Benjamin had finally cornered him in the parlor, in the early evening the day after the burial.

“Hazard said I may accompany him when he goes back next week.”

“I didn’t ask how you were going. I asked why. Why now?”

Benjamin tried to keep his voice level. “There are things better handled there than here, and this is the best time to go. Before we get caught up in spring planting and fair-weather restorations about the estate. I’d like to speak directly with Tate. Moreover, the stove and the fixtures for the cottage’s new water closet can be ordered in London far more easily.” He chuckled. “And I have that box of badger pelts to sell.”

Jasper scowled. He looked as though he would argue more, but then his scowl faded, and he nodded. “I suppose it makes sense. Only I hate to lose you and Hazard both. Are you taking Hannah and her nanny?”

“Yes, of course I am.”

“You needn’t. They are welcome to stay here. Olivia and Mother will be sorry to see them go.”

“They will have Mr. and Mrs. Taverston’s baby to dote upon before long.” Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. “I appreciate the offer. But I don’t wish to frighten Hannah by leaving her behind.”

“Well, yes. I suppose I understand that.” He tugged his earlobe. “The devil. I guess that as long as you are going, I have something for you to do.”

Good. He raised his eyebrows. “Such as?”

“Hire me a social secretary.”

Benjamin laughed.

“No, I am not joking.”

“Iversley, I know your calendar will be overfull, but the one thing you are good at is juggling your social engagements.”

Jasper wrung a smile at him. “The one thing?” Then he said, “This Season is different. Mother told me I must needs be more strategic. We are…we are ensuring Vanessa’s success. Which will be difficult. And launching Olivia. Which shouldn’t be, but we have made it so. There are events we apparently must attend.” He grimaced. “And parties we must throw. Including Olivia’s ball. And I have to make sure that our events don’t conflict with…with events that will give people excuse to send us their regrets. We can’t offend the Hobnarths or the Laytons or the Grenevilles by throwing a competing party. We can’t…God, Benjamin. It is all musts and can’ts.”

“Yes, I can see why you need help.” Jasper would never have bothered with such things before. He was welcomed everywhere. Peers would arrange their events around his.

“It’s absurd. Whomever you find will have to coordinate with Mother. I cannot keep it straight and it’s too important to get wrong.”

“I will ask around. We’ll find the right person.”

“Hazard will have some suggestions.” Jasper frowned, then said, “The deuce. I was so concerned about Vanessa, I didn’t give due consideration to Olivia’s debut. I thought my name carried enough weight…”

“It will.”

“At tea this afternoon, after Vanessa had gone to rest, Olivia volunteered to wait another year. Can you imagine?”

“What! No.” His pulse raced. “No, I can’t. Why?”

“To give the ton time to absorb the fact of Vanessa. Mother pointed out that if Olivia waited, she would turn twenty in the midst of her debut season.”

“Twenty is not old.”

“No. And it was rude of Mother to make a point of that in front of Alice. It raised a fracas.”

Benjamin winced. “I am glad I missed tea.”

He’d gone out to the cottage directly after luncheon on purpose to evade that invitation. Luncheon had been difficult enough. There had been a washed-clean lightness in the air, like the aftermath of a violent thunderstorm. Add in Hazard, and the conversation sizzled. Olivia’s animation seared a hole through Benjamin’s center. To his horror, he found himself picturing her that keyed up and playful in his bed. He had truly lost his mind.

And now they were discussing Olivia’s entrance into the Marriage Mart. It was unbearable.

“Alice is astounding,” Jasper said, continuing his train of thought without noticing Benjamin’s had drifted. “She was amused, not offended. I suppose it helped rather than hurt that Hazard teased her for being ancient. The two of them…” He shook his head. “At any rate, Georgiana explained very nicely that being twenty was no handicap. But that postponing one’s debut three times could well be. There were very good reasons the first two times and the ton would be sympathetic. But if Olivia demurred again, people would talk, and gossip would circle back around again to Vanessa.”

“So really, the only choice is for the countess and Lady Olivia to throw themselves headlong into the breach.”

Jasper hesitated, then sounding strangled, he said, “Yes.”

“Well, with the family behind you—”

“I would have no qualms. But it is unlikely Reg and Georgiana will be in London this spring. Arthur will be only a few months old—”

“Arthur?”

“Oh.” Jasper sniffed. “You missed that too. Apparently Haz was under the impression the babe will be named Arthur if it’s a boy. Crispin led him to believe the decision was made.”

Benjamin couldn’t help laughing.

“Yes, so now we are all needling Reg.” Jasper snorted. “Even Georgiana.”

For a moment, they grinned stupidly at one another. Then Jasper grew serious again. He drummed his fingers on his book.

“Georgiana would have been our ace in the sleeve. The Hovingtons have clout. They will still support us, of course, but Georgiana drips respectability.”

Benjamin admired how Jasper could so flatly praise the woman who had rejected his suit.

“And Crispin’s absence will be felt,” Jasper continued.

“I don’t see the captain’s involvement mattering one way or the other,” Benjamin protested. “The objectives are matrimonial, not military.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jasper rolled back his shoulders. “Olivia deserves better. She has been so patient. She ought by rights to be the diamond of the Season. I want her to enjoy this, Benjamin. This is her time to bask in the glow of all the ton has to offer. It shouldn’t be a trial by combat. And I fear I have made it so.”

Benjamin could well be wrong, but it seemed to him Olivia would not be overmuch impressed by the glow of the ton’s offerings. All she wanted was a strong horse and an open field.

He groaned inwardly. Maybe that was what she wanted, but what she needed was a husband. The right husband. A handsome, young, titled lord. And she would have one.

“Iversley, you worry too much. Lady Olivia will have the ton eating out of her hand.”