Page 8 of Waiting for Love (The Taverstons of Iversley #3)

J asper’s message had thrown the household into an uproar that increased rather than subsided over the next two days. Olivia was thrilled, naturally, that he and Vanessa would be home that evening. She missed Jasper, and it was high time for her to become better acquainted with her sister-in-law, but she didn’t understand why his return was the cause of such fuss. It was only Jasper, even if he was the earl, arriving with his countess, to take up residence at the estate.

Every surface had to be swept and washed. Every bit of silver polished. Chandeliers were taken down and scrubbed till they sparkled. Draperies were brushed and sponged. Rugs were taken outside and beaten. Feasts were planned and bake ovens were kept full day and night. Cards were sent out to the neighbors. It was ridiculous.

The overwhelming scent of lemon oil and silver polish in every room made Olivia’s head throb. She had taken an extralong ride that morning, but it hadn’t sufficed. Still, she didn’t dare go out again lest she miss Jasper and Vanessa’s arrival. They said evening, but if the roads were clear and the horses quick, it could be any minute. She decided to go sit in the garden so she could breathe.

Although their garden was spectacularly lovely from early spring through late fall, this was not the time to admire it unless one was enamored of brown stems poking up from the earth among pruned, sad-appearing, hedges. Still, winding paths made it a good place for a brisk walk, since she could stroll a mile without ever being too far from the house.

She had chosen her route, a narrow shrub-lined path leading to a cluster of statuettes. According to Jasper, one of the cherubs looked just like her, though she had never seen the resemblance. She was certain he insisted just to vex her.

She stepped inside the gate and turned to latch it. To her surprise, she heard a child’s whispery sing-song voice. It had to be Hannah. How lovely! Miss Jamison was so scrupulous in keeping the poor thing away from the family, it was if she thought they were all harboring spots.

Instead of her intended route, Olivia followed the sound and soon found Hannah sitting in the dirt at the foot of a lilac bush. She was dressed warmly in a red woolen dress and knit cap. The cap was askew, and two fat braids extended down to her shoulders. Miss Jamison reposed on a nearby bench, darning in her lap, eyes closed. Olivia felt a moment’s peevishness at the laxity of her attention, but at least her eyes snapped open upon Olivia’s approach.

“Good day, Miss Jamison,” she said in her sunniest tone.

Miss Jamison bobbed to her feet to make a curtsy. “My lady.”

“It is a lovely day, is it not?”

“Yes, indeed. I hope you don’t mind us here. Mr. Carroll asked permission of Mr. Taverston.”

“I don’t mind! I’m glad of the company.”

Olivia whisked off her cloak, laid it on the ground, and plunked herself beside the little girl, who started and shied.

“Hannah?” Olivia held out her hand. “I am Olivia. I am a friend of…” Good Heavens. What did the child call Benjamin? “…Mr. Carroll.”

“Papa,” Hannah said, with a toddler’s confidence. Then she put a dirty trowel into Olivia’s hand.

“Oh, Hannah, no!” Miss Jamison said.

Olivia laughed. “No, don’t scold. It’s very generous of her to share.”

“We are trying to stay out of the way,” Miss Jamison offered tentatively, seating herself again. “With all the bustle in the house.”

“Yes. So am I.” Olivia smiled. “I’m tempted to greet my brother like this.” She held out her now-dirty hands and gestured to her cloak. “But I’m afraid it would scandalize Peters and Mrs. Hardy.”

Miss Jamison smiled nervously. To spare her, Olivia turned her attention to Hannah, who was unintimidated by the fact that she was playing with one of the ladies of the house.

They took turns digging. Olivia loved the scent of freshly turned soil. She tried entering Hannah’s imaginary world, where they were searching for fairies, who liked to hide with bunnies. All went well for quite some time, until Hannah suddenly became furious that the fairies remained hidden. She threw the trowel across the path with some force.

“Hannah!” Miss Jamison said, reddening. “I am so sorry, my lady. She is at the difficult stage where she will not nap even though she needs to.”

Olivia stretched across the path to grab the trowel, then returned it to Hannah.

“I think it is fairy naptime,” she said. “That is why we are having so much trouble finding them. Shall we hunt for buried treasure instead?”

Hannah cast her a scowl, her skepticism enhanced by dark, peaked eyebrows that contrasted sharply with her pale-ivory skin. She could be a fairy herself.

“Try here.” Olivia pointed to a shallow hole they had begun and then discarded. “We will look for gold. I’m sure pirates have left some.”

“No,” Hannah said firmly. Nevertheless, she began to dig. “Fairies.” She began singing again to herself, a muddle of words Olivia could not distinguish, except for “king” and “Papa” and “bunny.”

Olivia helped by scooping out dirt and pebbles with her hands, accomplishing more than Hannah did with her trowel. She enjoyed the game immensely. She was too old to play but had been an imaginative child and regretted, at times, that make-believe was frowned upon in the adult world. Maybe it was selfish, but she wished Benjamin wouldn’t be so strict. It wasn’t any of her business, of course, but Benjamin was busy all day and Miss Jamison was not exactly lively.

As these thoughts spun through her head, she noticed Hannah again growing petulant. So she sneaked a pin from her hair and, after distracting the girl with a gesture, dropped the pin into the hole and sprinkled dirt over it.

“No fairies yet, but maybe fairy gold,” she suggested. “Keep looking.”

Hannah plunged the trowel into the hole.

“Oh, Hannah! Look! You found it!”

While the child laughed and squirmed, Olivia brushed the dirt from the pin.

“Treasure!” she exclaimed. “You found gold!”

The game was not a new one. Crispin used to bury pirate treasure all over the estate for Olivia and Reg to “discover.” She imagined it to have universal appeal, but Hannah appeared confused. Treasure and gold were apparently not in her vocabulary. Trying to hold Hannah’s interest, she threaded the pin in and out of one of the girl’s braids until it held firm.

“Very pretty,” Olivia said, letting the braid rest on Hannah’s shoulder.

Hannah reached out a grubby hand and patted Olivia’s hair. “Pretty.”

Olivia smiled. “Thank you.”

At that moment, she heard the sound of the gate banging and pattering footsteps. In a few moments, Tansy appeared, breathing heavily.

“Oh, Lady Olivia. Here you are! Your mother sent me to find you and I’ve been looking all over!”

“I’ve been here. What is it?

“A rider has come. The earl will be here within the hour.”

“Oh!” Olivia scrambled to her feet, suddenly embarrassed by her soiled gown and dirt-encrusted hands. “Oh, good heavens.” She bent over to address Hannah. “I’m sorry, love. I have to run.” Then straightened. “Excuse me, Miss Jamison.”

Hurrying along with Tansy, Olivia scolded herself for foolishness. It did no good to complain her brothers still treated her like a child if she continued to act like one.

*

As per tradition, the entire household lined up in the drive to meet their new countess, even though several of them had already glimpsed her in the days before the wedding when she was merely Mrs. Wardrip. And several more had waited upon her at the wedding breakfast. But now, she was undeniably the countess, and tradition must be maintained.

Olivia stood between Mama and Georgiana. Mama only nodded, but Olivia and Georgiana dropped curtsies along with everyone else. The display was not silly. It was necessary. Given Vanessa’s history, it was important to accord her their utmost respect to indicate that everyone else must also.

Head held high, Vanessa walked the long gauntlet of servants, finding a word for each of them. It took a long time.

It surprised Olivia to note that Fergus, a fine groom but young, stood beside George, who ruled the stables. George was gruff and growing old, but there was nothing he did not know about horses. Henley, who was second after George, should have been next to him. Henley was good with horses, but he was a nasty fellow who believed women did not belong anywhere near the stables. He had always tried to bring out spiritless mounts for Olivia and once, to her face, said it didn’t matter to him if she cracked open her head, so long as he was not blamed for it. Olivia preferred to fight her own battles, generally, but this she reported to Jasper. Who apparently had words with Henley because he ceased being openly disrespectful. It was strange that he would let Fergus stand in his place.

But that was not her concern. Not today.

She nudged Alice’s arm. She seemed a bit overawed by the ceremony and Olivia wanted to include her as family. She was family.

“Doesn’t Vanessa look marvelous?”

Olivia’s new sister wore traveling clothes that were plain but of obvious quality. And, when she’d stepped down from the coach, Olivia had caught sight of her boots, a yellowish leather tooled with what she suspected were roses.

Alice nodded. “Jasper looks fine too.”

They snickered together. He always did.

When the couple reached the end of the line of servants, Jasper dismissed them all then strode over to Benjamin, who had been standing apart. Olivia couldn’t hear what they said, but Jasper clapped him on the shoulder and laughed, so it must have been more than just cordial. Benjamin bowed and took a step back but did not otherwise move until Jasper took Vanessa by the elbow and walked toward the family. Then Benjamin melted away, following the retreating servants. Olivia felt a twinge of disappointment. She’d hoped Jasper would draw him into their circle. Reg had tried already and failed.

“Let us clean up a bit,” Jasper said, gesturing to himself as he reached them. Olivia snorted. His clothes were immaculate, he smelled of sandalwood, and he had not a shining blond hair out of place. “Then I think tea? If we are not too late?”

Mama laughed. “You may order tea at midnight, if you like, Jasper. But no, you are not late. Go. Change your clothes. I’ll speak to Mrs. Hardy, and we can meet in the parlor in an hour.” She looked buoyant. “It is so good to have everyone together again.” Her smile faltered. “If only Crispin were here.”

And Papa, Olivia thought. But she didn’t want to be the one to inject grief into celebration.

An hour was good. She could soak her hands in hot water first. Her gloves hid the dirt under her nails that had not completely come out with simple scrubbing. If she wore gloves while eating tea cakes with her brothers, Mama would want to know why. And “I was playing in the dirt, Mama,” was not an acceptable answer.

*

Soaked clean and gloveless, running late, Olivia dashed toward the main stairway, but halted when Benjamin emerged from around the staircase and stepped in front of her.

“Benjamin!” she gasped, almost skidding.

“Lady Olivia,” he said harshly, “may I have a word?”

“Well, yes, of course—”

“This is yours.” He pulled her hairpin from inside his jacket and thrust it forward, nearly jabbing it into the hand she stretched out to receive it. She pulled back without taking it.

“Oh! But it is merely a hairpin.” Why on earth was he so angry? “Hannah may keep it.”

“She may not. She is far too young for frivolous vanities—”

“For pity’s sake.” She glared. What did it mean to him that she had at least a half dozen of these “frivolous vanities” stuck around in various parts of her head? “It is a toy to her. Not an adornment.”

“Nor do I wish her exposed to greed and gold lust when she is not even three!” He was not shouting, but his voice was so hard that its quiet was worse. “You should be grateful she is young enough that tragic memories have not stayed with her. Or your foolish game could have reroused night terrors that took months to quell!”

“Night terrors?” she whispered.

He turned his head. She could see a muscle twitching in his jaw. His whole body was tense. Even his fists were clenched.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carroll. I would never intentionally have frightened her.”

“The harm you do is never intentional.”

Heat spread up from her neck to her hairline. What harm? Hannah had not appeared frightened while they were playing. And Benjamin said himself that her memories had not stayed with her.

She set her own jaw. “I have apologized for whatever thoughtless crime you think I have committed by entertaining your charge. But I will not continue to beg your pardon for unspecified harms when I believe I am guiltless.”

He faced her again, his muscle still ticking. “I will thank you to leave Hannah to Miss Jamison’s care and to mine.”

It felt so much like a slap that her head snapped back. His eyes widened, then his gaze dropped.

“Please don’t give her any more gifts,” he murmured. He placed the hairpin against her palm and, with surprising gentleness, closed her fingers around it. The warmth of his hand rippled through her. She wanted to speak but couldn’t think of the right words to say.

He let go and walked away, taking the warmth away with him.