Part 16 (1/2)
Olivia frowned faintly at the address written on the front of the letter.
She slit it rapidly and read the few lines.
She lay it down on her plate and stared at it, one hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
”Oh. Oh my goodness. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my.”
Her mother dropped her knife with a clatter. ”Olivia, good heavens, tell me nothing has-”
She laid a hand immediately on her mother's wrist. ”Everything is fine, Mama. Everything is more than fine. Everything is wonderful.”
Her mother had survived losing a baby, sending sons off to wars and to the gallows, and children off to matrimony with aplomb and extraordinary strength, grace, and humor. But Olivia remained a grave concern, and her mother tried not to show how much of a concern. Olivia knew she'd in part gotten her own stoicism from her mother.
”No, Mama, something splendid has just occurred. I've been invited to visit Mrs. Hannah More in Plymouth. And Mr. William Wilberforce will be there, too. For a fortnight! At a small gathering in a house in Plymouth!”
This was met with blankly bright expressions from her mother and Colin.
”Hannah More.”
”Oh yes, yes. Hannah More. You may have mentioned her a time or two,” her mother said carefully.
”Or fifty,” Colin amended.
Hannah More. The poet and playwright and crusader for the rights of the poor and the abolition of slavery. She was a remarkable woman. She was one of Olivia's heroines.
”She will be a guest in the house of a fine family in Plymouth along with William Wilberforce. Oh my goodness. And they've heard of my work on behalf of the poor. It says so right here.” She tapped the letter. ”I spoke with her very briefly once after a lecture and she must have never forgotten.” She sighed happily.
”A fortnight, Olivia! Now? You're going to be married in May! In just a few weeks.”
”Oh, May is it? I best make a note of that,” Olivia said.
Colin laughed and her mother swatted him. ”Don't encourage her!”
”Mama, my trousseau is complete and it is beautiful beyond my wild imaginings. I'm so blessed in family and friends and I can't imagine wanting for clothes until I'm in my dotage. Unless you need my help in preparing the house for guests . . .”
”We've servants enough for that, but you'll need to see to setting up your own household.”
”I've a lifetime to do that. And please understand, Mama-this is the opportunity of a lifetime. She's elderly now, Mrs. More, and I may never have an opportunity to meet someone I admire so greatly. Believe me, nothing but this kind of invitation would persuade me to leave now. But it's that important to me. And I'm not a little girl.”
”I suppose,” her mother said, after a moment. ”And you may be too busy with babies to go soon.”
”Er . . . That may well be true,” Olivia allowed carefully, startled.
Her mother looked pleadingly at Colin, seeking an ally.
Olivia took a deep breath. ”Mama . . . It's just that everywhere I turn I see . . . or hear . . . something about me. The songs, the betting books . . .”
She was flus.h.i.+ng now.
Her mother's eyes widened and she instantly took her hands in hers and squeezed.
”Oh, my poor sweetheart. You never say anything. You never let it show how much it troubles you. It's all right, you know, to not be so very, very stoic.”
It wasn't all right. Olivia wouldn't quite know where to begin if she decided to fall apart. ”Stoic” was what helped her survive to this point in her life.
And she'd only ever felt free to fall apart in front of Lyon.
But her mama's tenderness was balm.
”It's ridiculous,” Olivia said firmly. ”The songs are ridiculous. That's all. Please do not worry about how much it troubles me. And yet I'd like to go away to a quiet place, and marry without those songs in my head. I don't see how that's unreasonable.”
”She should go.” Colin said firmly. In utter seriousness. He'd seen Olivia's face in Ackermann's.
And this was one brother who knew a little something about being haunted by a song.
”But who will accompany you?” her mother said finally, swayed.
”I know just who I should like to invite as a companion. She has an interest in Mrs. More's work, too. A very solid young woman with a practical head on her shoulders. You've met her, Mama-Mademoiselle Lilette.”
”Oh yes, the pragmatic seamstress. I did like her. And surely absence will merely make Landsdowne's heart grow fonder,” her mother said.
”It's only a fortnight, Mama. And Landsdowne will be so occupied with the arrival of his mother and sisters that he'll be more than delighted to see me when I return, believe me.”
”YOU WANT TO go . . . away? Now?”
Landsdowne went motionless. They occupied the same settee in the Eversea town house sitting room, but a foot or more of tufted velvet remained between them.
He settled his teacup down carefully on the table and eyed her warily.
”Just for a fortnight, John, and just to Plymouth. It's scarcely even 'away.' As benign a place as ever graced a map. No betting books in Plymouth, at least that I've heard of.”
She handed the letter over to him. His eyebrows went up. ”Ah, Hannah More is indeed an impressive woman. I suppose it takes one to recognize another.”
She could tell he was struggling with diplomacy, and she smiled at him, grateful and relieved.
”Flatterer.”
”I don't suppose anyone can get up to any mischief in Plymouth,” he teased.
”I'm not p.r.o.ne to getting up to mischief at all. It's mischief that dogs me.”
”August personages, all of them, to be certain.” He tapped the letter. ”I can't pretend they hold any particular fascination for me, my dear, but I would love nothing better than to accompany you. It's just that my mother and sisters have arrived, along with . . .”
”Lady Emily and her family?”
It was a fortunate guess.
”They were childhood friends.” He quirked the corner of his mouth. ”And now I am at pains to make all of them comfortable and welcome in my house before we all proceed on to Suss.e.x.”
Olivia had met his mother once before. A solid woman possessed of little intelligence but a good deal of warmth. She was primarily harmless and seemed happy enough to welcome Olivia into the family.