Page 27 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

O livia had a bad case of the blue-devils that she could not manage to shake. She could not talk herself out of them. It scared her. She was unused to melancholy that would not go away. She’d been bored at the theater. Bored at Isabel’s dinner party. Bored at the Hovingtons’ musicale. And bored wasn’t even the right word.

Jasper took her riding. He allowed her to ride Bolt, a thoroughbred almost as fine as Crispin’s Mercury, and even that did not help. They went to an open field in the depths of Green Park in the very early morning so that they could race. And then he spoiled it by letting her win. It was obvious he was doing so because she was trying to let him win so as not to embarrass him. Ridiculous. It was the slowest race imaginable.

She knew she had no cause for her sadness. Flowers kept coming. Suitors paid calls. Over the course of two weeks, she was visited by the marquess of this, viscount that, three earls or earls-to-be, a baron, a handful of sirs and one very wealthy mister—the third son of a duke, not a mere cit. She did her best to entertain them, but they had nothing interesting to say, so how was she to respond?

And there was the duke. Mama had declined Lythe’s offer to take Olivia riding. She was disappointed and thought it strange and a little mean of Mama to refuse. Nevertheless, she was relieved not to have to spend time with Lythe just to ride his horse. She thought that would be the end of it, but then His Grace came at calling time and spent a polite twenty minutes speaking with her in the receiving room about his stables. Lord Carleton was there at the same time, looking annoyed. And, of course, Mama sat quietly on guard.

There were other reasons for her unhappiness. Alice was often elsewhere. Georgiana was often at her parents’ house. Vanessa was busily cutting a swath through the ton—which was a good thing, but it meant she was not home much either. She passed most of her days paying social calls and coming home with orders for boots to be made by her friends in Cartmel. Olivia could not tag along. She was supposed to spend her time being available to be courted.

And Benjamin. Benjamin had informed Jasper that all the necessary repairs were being seen to and he would soon be returning to Chaumbers to see what the tenants required.

He was not going to fight for her. Had she ever thought he might?

This morning, Ebersom was coming to take her for a ride in his carriage. A marquess. Lower than a duke. Higher than an earl.

“The green-and-blue muslin?” Tansy said, moving to the wardrobe.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” When Tansy huffed, Olivia muttered, “Yes, yes. The muslin will do.”

She let Tansy dress her and fix her hair. A maid knocked on the door. “My lady? Your caller is here.”

She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and went down the stairs. On her way to the receiving room, she passed Benjamin in the hall.

“You are going out?” he said.

She sighed. “They ask, I go.”

He nodded. He looked miserable.

Jasper stepped from the receiving room. “Ah, Olivia. Ebersom is here.” He stopped and looked from Olivia to Benjamin and then back again. “Did I interrupt something?”

Benjamin said “no” at the same time Olivia said, “Yes. I was about to ask Mr. Carroll when he would return to Chaumbers. I left my flowered fan there and I thought he could have it sent here by post.”

Jasper flicked his hand. “Buy a new one, Livvy. It is a fan.”

“But it is my favorite.”

He gave her an odd look. Then shook his head. “Benjamin, locate the fan.” He walked away.

Benjamin looked down at his feet. Then he nodded to Olivia. “Enjoy your ride.”

*

She almost did enjoy the ride. Ebersom drove a phaeton with a magnificent, matched pair of grays. To her surprise, he was a true whip, handling the ribbons with confidence and ease as he whizzed her through the park. The wind on her face brought out her smile. But not his.

He was not a bad-looking sort, but he might be better looking if he ever crinkled his eyes and showed his teeth. His nose was too small for his face, but she allowed that the imperfection gave it character. His shoulders were narrow, but he had good, strong hands.

His only true flaw was that he lacked conversation. Of course, she hadn’t given him much of a chance. He’d only paid one morning call and Lord Galway had been there, too, monopolizing her attention. Yet they had danced a few times, and he’d sat beside her at the Edgeworths’ dinner party. It was enough to notice that he never initiated talk beyond comments on the weather or bland compliments on her dress. His replies to her attempts were adequate, but it was exhausting thinking up things for him to reply to. Worse, he didn’t laugh at her jokes and when she’d teased him once, he looked confused.

But flying around the park with the wheels rattling, horses clopping, and wind whistling past her ears, conversation was out of the question anyway. She was disappointed when they returned to the main path. With all the other carriages and the people out strolling, Ebersom was obliged to slow down. He cleared his throat. Coughed. Reddened a little. And said nothing.

Olivia took a breath and dove in. “That was wonderful! Horses are my passion, and yours are splendid. What are their names?”

“Fred and Joe.”

Good Lord. She had no trouble smiling; the difficulty was refraining from bursting out with a laugh. No conversation and no imagination.

“It must be grand driving a pair. I’ve never—well, a wagon about Chaumbers, pulled by Pudge, but not—oh, wait, that isn’t true.”

His eyes squinted with puzzlement which somehow focused her eyes on his unfortunate nose. “Wh—What isn’t true?”

“I have driven more than a wagon. I must have been eight years old, and Viscount Haslet let me take the ribbons of his curricle.” Now she did laugh. “I crashed it, of course. I fear the front wheels were irreparably damaged.”

Ebersom looked aghast. “You might have been killed! What was he thinking!”

“I don’t imagine we were going very fast. He wasn’t upset that I ruined his carriage, but I tipped him out into the mud.” She giggled, remembering. Not Hazard’s words, but his demeanor. But that was too hard to convey, and Ebersom did not appear amused by her story, so she changed tack.

“Have you and my brother been friends long?”

“No. Well, s-since Oxford. But we were in d-different colleges. Different…circles.”

“I suppose you are in the same circle now.”

He lifted his brows, then frowned, as if the thought didn’t exactly please him.

She said, “I mean Tories. House of Lords. All that.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.”

The following quiet stretched between them while she scrambled for another topic that might have more legs. To her astonishment, he broke the silence.

“Along those l-lines…” He paused.

“Yes?” she said, hopefully.

“I am having a…a b-bit of a house party. Next month. At Cherrington. S-small one. Politics, of course.” Then in a rush, “But plenty to do for the ladies as well.”

She waited while he gathered more words. He stammered, she realized. This was hard for him. Was he simply shy around ladies? Or did it affect his ability to give speeches? Her heart softened. How unfortunate for him.

“I’ve asked Iversley to bring you,” he blurted. Then he pretended his ribbons needed a good deal of attention, even though the horses were calmly trotting along the path.

“I’m fond of house parties.” This was true. And it would be an escape from London. But her chest tightened, and her own words failed her. Was she being invited so that he could impress her with Cherrington?

“I should g-get you home,” he said, turning the phaeton.

On the path from the park, they exchanged greetings with passersby, but said nothing else to each other. And the streets leading from the park to Grosvenor Square were crowded, so the horses required all Ebersom’s attention. They pulled into the drive in front of her home, and he sprang from his perch to help her down. She thanked him for a lovely ride and gave him her smile. He returned only a bow, a “Good day” and a “Give my regards to Iversley and Lady Iversley.”

*

Olivia didn’t mention the invitation to Cherrington. She’d wait for Jasper to bring it up. Tonight, the Taverstons were going to Almack’s. Olivia had finally received her voucher. Mr. Boring took care of sending regrets to the Crawfords who had invited her to the theater. This was Almacks , after all. And the Duchess of Hovington said Lady Jersey had agreed to grant permission for Olivia to waltz.

Jasper was making a celebration of it. Hazard said he would not miss it, even though he had not patronized Almack’s in years. Since the earl’s coach would be crowded and the ladies must not wrinkle their dresses, Hazard volunteered to bring the dowager and Alice.

Olivia wore her white ballgown again, but with a gold net overskirt and little golden baubles sewn into her hair. If Tansy ever got the tangles out afterward, it would be a small miracle.

“Ebersom will ask for your first waltz,” Jasper told her, escorting her to the coach. He looked pleased.

Oh! She nearly stopped in her tracks. Ebersom was Jasper’s choice. Of course, he was! All the cards fell into place. He’d been invited to Jasper’s wedding months ago—for a quick squint at her, no doubt. And now, she recollected Hazard putting in a good word for him at her ball—Jasper must have told him to.

“Very well,” she said, swallowing her indignation as Jasper handed her into the coach. Her whole Season was a farce. It had already been decided. In her head, she may have wished Jasper would just settle it all, but she hadn’t meant it!

“What is wrong with Ebersom?” Reg asked, climbing in beside her.

“Nothing is wrong with him. Or Jasper would not have asked him to request my first waltz.”

Jasper scowled, ducking inside and sitting down by Vanessa. “I didn’t ask him. He asked me, and I said yes. He is a good man, Olivia. Give him a chance.”

Georgiana sucked in a breath. Her brow darkened.

“What is wrong?” Jasper said, turning to her.

“You sound like my mother. When we received your invitation to Chaumbers.”

Jasper’s eyes went wide. Then he laughed. “Well, your mother was right. If you hadn’t given me a chance, you would not have met Reg.”

Olivia felt a spark of amusement. “Let us hope Ebersom has a brother.”

Jasper rapped on the roof and the coach began to roll from the drive.

Almack’s was not far. It was also not the palace one might expect. From the outside, it looked more like a warehouse. The ballroom was poorly lit and had a faint scent of must. Upstairs in the supper room, it was said they served only watery lemonade and tiny sandwiches that contained invisible slivers of ham.

Everyone was impeccably dressed. Still, Olivia found it strange that all the men were in knee breeches, a fashion that was falling by the wayside. She saw the marquess across the room. He made a polite bow and nodded to Jasper but did not approach. The orchestra played quietly while guests filled the ballroom. A quarter hour later, Hazard strolled in with Alice on his arm and Mama walking alongside.

Mama approached and put a hand on Olivia’s arm. “Shall we find Lady Jersey?”

Olivia nodded, surprised by how nervous she felt. They proceeded toward a cluster of older matrons, very fussily dressed, near the far wall. One of them broke away and came forward.

“Lady Jersey,” Mama said. “May I present my daughter, Lady Olivia?”

Olivia curtsied deeply and kept her eyes down while the woman studied her through her lorgnette.

“Very lovely,” she pronounced. Then she added, “My dear, I am sorry for your loss. Your father was much admired.”

“Thank you, my lady. He is very much missed.”

Lady Jersey nodded. “Of course, you may waltz. It would give us great pleasure.”

They said their thank yous, wished Lady Jersey a good evening, and crossed the floor again.

“And?” Jasper asked.

“I may waltz.” Olivia made herself giggle. “Such a silly performance.”

Jasper didn’t answer. He was nodding over her head. She whirled about to see Ebersom, who was, as usual, flawlessly turned out. His lips were crooked, as though he were struggling to arrange them into the appropriate form.

“Lady Olivia.” He bowed before her and spoke to the floor. “Will you honor me with a waltz?”

She held out her dance card and he put his name down. The waltz was the third dance. Hazard took the card next and wrote his name for the first. Ebersom then claimed Alice. Hazard chuckled and took Alice’s card and put his name on it for the waltz.

Olivia kept the same smile through it all. The orchestra finished whatever they were playing and then there was a cacophony of tuning instruments and scraping chairs. The master of the evening called the first dance. Hazard took her elbow.

“Come along, dear. You wanted to see Almack’s? Here it is.”

*

After the first set, a small crowd formed around Olivia. Several of her suitors tried nudging each other aside playfully. Her card was full in short order. Lord Carleton claimed the second set. Olivia wished he hadn’t. She could smell gin before he even opened his mouth.

Ebersom was waiting beside Jasper when the dance ended. Lord Carleton delivered her to them. Jasper’s Chosen One bowed and held out his arm.

He waltzed very well. So did she. He made sure to whirl her past Lady Jersey to receive her approving nod. He held her at the correct distance. His gloves were not sweaty. He wore a scent of bergamot and cloves. She wished she could like him. It would make things easier. She didn’t dislike him.

The problem was, she felt nothing.

She asked about Fred and Joe. About Cherrington. If he had a sister or brother. He answered with few words. She lapsed into a quiet smile, but her lips felt false. As though she had a bit in her mouth or had someone else’s lips glued to her face.

“W-what have you enjoyed most, b-being in London?” he asked, making the effort.

“Feeding the ducks.” The words slipped out, but the ridiculousness of her answer didn’t seem to register with him.

Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Alice and Hazard. Alice was smiling into Hazard’s eyes. The two twirled. Hazard was laughing into hers.

Olivia blinked and looked again, but they had faded into the crowd. She must have imagined it. How happy they’d seemed.

*

When she walked into the morning room the next day, the family applauded.

“Another rousing success!” Vanessa said.

“Was it?” Olivia yawned.

Georgiana said, “Are you being run ragged? You needn’t say yes to everything—”

“Olivia? Run ragged?” Jasper laughed, a strange laugh that seemed to echo in his throat. “You are thinking of a different Olivia.”

Olivia took a piece of toast and a cup of tea. She was a different Olivia. This morning, she’d barely dragged herself out of bed. She wished she could go back to it.

Reg stepped to the buffet and nudged her shoulder. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, fine.”

She took her food to the table and sat. She sipped her tea, but the toast did not appeal. She wished everyone would stop smiling at her. How was she a rousing success when she was desolate? She’d thought she could do this for Jasper, for the Taverstons, but faced with the reality of a lifetime with Ebersom, she didn’t think she could go through with it.

Benjamin stepped into the doorway. Olivia’s eyes moistened. He stopped, startled, and turned as if to go.

“Come in, Mr. Carroll,” Mama said. “Don’t let us chase you away.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense. You have to eat.”

He nodded and entered. Olivia watched him pour his coffee. Cream, no sugar. Two bread rolls, jam, and a sweet bun. She knew he’d take the sweet bun upstairs for Hannah. She pulled her gaze away. Two days. He was leaving in two days.

Peters entered with several cards and a few letters on a silver tray. He handed it to Jasper. He had a sparkle in his eye and although he stepped to the side, he didn’t withdraw from the room.

Jasper grabbed the top piece of paper and tore it open.

“Crispin?” Mama asked. Olivia held her breath.

He nodded. He skimmed a few lines and then read aloud.

“Family, I am alive, by the Grace of God. We are going to Paris—better late than never. Rumor is Wellington is to be a duke and to be named the ambassador. I suppose my French will improve. I count on Olivia’s having broken at least twelve hearts by now. I would hope she might wait for my return before wedding, but since I do not know when that will be, I will tell her NOT to oblige me. Follow your heart, Livvy-pet. Yours, etc., Major Taverston. Postscript: Arthur? Heartfelt congratulations.”

Jasper set the letter down. He looked deflated. Olivia saw the same sorry look on everyone’s face that she felt on her own. Even Peters’s. Crispin was still in France. He was not coming home.

“He is alive,” Vanessa said, looking around the room. “And he will be back.”

Everyone nodded and murmured and tried to look pleased.

Benjamin coughed. “That last. Can you read that again?”

“Arthur,” Jasper said. “Smug congratulations.”

“No. Before that.”

Jasper picked up the letter again. “Follow your heart, Livvy-pet. Yours…” He looked up at Benjamin. Then he laughed. “Major Taverston. Major . He has been promoted. Again.”

That jollied everyone else, but not Olivia. She didn’t care if he was a major. She wanted him home.

And she wanted to be home. With Benjamin. But Chaumbers wasn’t her home anymore. And Benjamin would never be hers.