Chapter 9 #2
Alcott waved a hand. “Oh, there were governesses. Dozens of them. But Charlotte ran them off one by one with a sort of ruthless charm I’ve never seen before in someone so small and fashionably dressed. By the time she was presented to Court, she was practically feral.”
“Feral?” Westcott repeated.
“Yes,” Alcott said with a solemn expression. “Feral. Utterly unmanageable, full of opinions, and with an uncanny ability to feign innocence.”
Bedford gave a low whistle. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”
“You have no idea,” Alcott replied grimly. “If I survive this Season with my sanity intact, I’ll consider it a miracle.”
Richard allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his mouth.
The chaos of Alcott’s domestic life, while unfortunate, was a welcome distraction from the moral mire he had dragged himself into.
For now, at least, the conversation had turned away from Miss Theodosia and the consequences of his actions.
If only it could stay that way.
Theodosia scooped the last bit of lemon ice from her bowl and let it melt on her tongue, eyes fluttering shut in delight.
The treat was cold and tart, with just enough sweetness to make her sigh in contentment.
She scraped her spoon along the bottom of the glass bowl, hoping for one last taste.
For a moment, she contemplated braving the long line again for a second serving but thought against it.
Across the dainty wrought iron table, Olivia watched her with an amused expression. “I told you that you would enjoy it,” she said with a knowing smile, tilting her parasol ever so slightly to shield her face from the afternoon sun.
“Enjoy is an understatement,” Theodosia replied, setting down her spoon with reluctant finality. “Do you think anyone would notice if I licked the bowl clean?”
Olivia laughed. “Yes, I do. And so would the rest of the ton.”
With a dramatic sigh, Theodosia slid the empty dish away. “Then I suppose I must at least pretend to have some semblance of decorum.”
But even as they shared their lighthearted banter, Theodosia’s eyes caught the subtle movements around them—the way a pair of matrons whispered behind their fans, their gazes darting towards Olivia with ill-concealed curiosity.
Olivia’s smile faltered, and she exhaled a weary breath. “I should have known better than to come to Gunter’s. What was I thinking? I might as well have painted a sign and worn it around my neck.”
“Ignore them,” Theodosia encouraged.
“That is easy for you to say,” Olivia murmured, lowering her eyes. “You weren’t the one foolish enough to elope to Gretna Green only to be discarded like yesterday’s gossip.”
“True,” Theodosia acknowledged, “but you are not defined by one mistake.”
Olivia shook her head. “Not according to Society. To them, I am the cautionary tale whispered over teacups. We should leave.”
“No,” Theodosia said firmly. “We will stay as long as you like. We will not be chased away by gossiping busybodies.”
Olivia looked up, surprised. “You do not mind being associated with me?”
“Of course I do,” Theodosia said with mock severity. “But alas, that is the solemn duty of a loyal companion.”
A smile tugged at Olivia’s lips. “You’re my first, you know. I haven’t the faintest idea what a proper companion should be.”
“Nor I,” Theodosia replied with a grin. “But I suspect enduring slander and defending your lemon ice is part of the role.”
“I daresay you’re doing admirably.”
Before Theodosia could respond, a familiar voice reached her ears.
“Miss Theodosia, what a pleasant surprise.”
She looked up—and blinked. “Mr. Pritchett?”
He offered a genial smile as he approached their table. “I had business to attend to in Town and decided to indulge in a little treat. I had no idea I’d find such pleasant company here.”
“You certainly won’t be disappointed by the lemon ice,” Theodosia said, gesturing towards Olivia. “May I present Lady Olivia?”
Mr. Pritchett bowed politely. “It is a pleasure, my lady.”
Olivia dipped her head in return. “Likewise. May I ask how you are acquainted with Miss Theodosia?”
Mr. Pritchett gave a quick glance at Theodosia before answering. “We grew up in the same village and our families have long been acquainted.”
“Then you must join us,” Olivia said, gesturing to the empty space beside Theodosia.
Trying to mask her dismay, Theodosia gave a tight smile. “Yes, do join us.”
Clearly pleased, Mr. Pritchett went to fetch a nearby chair as Theodosia leaned towards Olivia and whispered quickly, “He’s the man who offered for me.”
Olivia’s brows shot up, but she schooled her expression into polite neutrality.
“I must say,” Mr. Pritchett said as he sat down, “it’s a marvel running into you here. I had planned to seek you out during my stay.”
That was the last thing that she wanted. “I’ve been rather occupied as of late with my new position.”
“Yes,” Olivia added. “Miss Theodosia has been a most attentive companion. I truly do not know what I would do without her.”
Theodosia gave her a grateful look. “You’d be just fine, my lady.”
“Perhaps,” Olivia replied, “but why tempt fate?”
Mr. Pritchett turned his attention back to Theodosia. “Might I call upon you while I am in Town?”
“Oh—um…” Theodosia hesitated, scrambling for a polite excuse. “That would be… lovely. But I fear our schedule is quite full for the foreseeable future.”
Olivia nodded quickly. “Yes, terribly full. Errands, fittings, social calls—it’s a whirlwind.”
Mr. Pritchett’s face fell ever so slightly. “A shame. I had hoped…”
“It is, isn’t it?” Theodosia rose, brushing her hands against her skirts. “But we must be going now. So much to do, and the day is slipping away.”
He stood as well. “Good day, Miss Theodosia. Lady Olivia.”
Olivia looped her arm through Theodosia’s as they walked away from the table. Once they were out of earshot, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize who he was or else I wouldn’t have invited him to join us.”
“It’s quite all right,” Theodosia said with a shrug. “He is a good man. But I’d rather not encourage him.”
“Nor should you,” Olivia agreed as they resumed their walk down the bustling pavement. “Kindness is no excuse to be misleading.”
They strolled in comfortable silence for a few paces, the hum of carriages and the chatter of passing pedestrians all around them.
As they passed a milliner’s shop with lace and silk bonnets on display in the window, the door swung open with a faint jingle of bells, and a slender young woman with blonde hair stepped out. Her eyes widened as they met Olivia’s.
“Lady Olivia,” she said in surprise.
Olivia came to an abrupt halt. “Lady Jane,” she responded.
Jane's expression shifted, the formality in her posture fading as something softer and more sincere took its place. “How are you faring?” she asked quietly.
“I’ve been better.”
Jane glanced around as if to be sure they weren’t observed. Then, lowering her voice, she added, “I’ve thought about writing, but my father forbade me from contacting you. He said I was to keep my distance.”
“I understand,” Olivia murmured.
Jane cast another quick glance over her shoulder. “But what my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she said with sudden resolve. “Come inside. We can speak freely there.”
She gestured to the shop, and the trio stepped inside the narrow space, the bell above the door jingling softly. The walls were lined with hats, bonnets, and rows of silk ribbons in every shade imaginable.
They wandered among the displays, their fingers drifting over the spools of ribbon, pretending to shop as they spoke in lowered tones.
“Miss Theodosia is my companion now,” Olivia offered after a moment, breaking the silence.
Jane looked up in surprise. “You have a companion?”
“My brother insisted,” Olivia replied, casting a glance towards Theodosia with a smile. “But Dosia and I are managing quite well.”
Jane’s expression softened with warmth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, turning towards Theodosia. “I’m Lady Jane.”
Theodosia offered a small curtsy. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Jane idly picked up a ribbon and ran her fingers over its edge. Her voice dropped as she turned her attention back to Olivia. “I must confess, I was rather stunned when I read you had married Mr. Smith. I thought… well, I thought your affections were elsewhere.”
Olivia’s face tightened slightly, but her tone remained composed. “It was a rash decision,” she said. “One I regret more than I can say.”
Jane set the ribbon down with care. “You may regret it, but in some ways… you’re fortunate.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would,” Jane insisted. “He left you, yes—but you still have the legal standing of a married woman. That gives you more freedom than most of us can even dream of.”
Olivia turned to look out the shop’s large front window, her reflection faintly visible in the glass. “Freedom comes at a price. And mine was a scandal.”
Jane gave a wistful smile. “I still think you were brave. I envy that. I live beneath the constant gaze of my father and brother. I suspect they’re plotting my marriage this very moment.”
Olivia reached out and gently rested a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “You don’t have to marry the first man they parade before you.”
Jane looked at her with weary eyes. “Don’t I?” she whispered.
Theodosia, who had been silently watching the exchange, picked up a ribbon of deep emerald green and studied it, though her attention was on the pain threaded through Jane’s voice.
Something about her tone—about the way she avoided eye contact—made Theodosia wonder what cruelty, subtle or otherwise, Jane had endured behind the walls of her family’s home.
Olivia dropped her hand to her side. “It’s illegal to force someone into marriage.”
Jane looked down at the floor, her expression bleak. “Legalities mean little when your choices are taken from you,” she murmured.
The door opened behind them, and two finely dressed women entered, engaged in conversation. Jane’s posture straightened instantly, and her voice returned to polite brightness.
“Well, I should be off before my brother comes looking for me,” she said. “It was lovely to meet you, Miss Theodosia.”
“And you, my lady,” Theodosia replied.
With a final smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Jane slipped through the door and disappeared into the crowd beyond.
Olivia watched the door for a long moment, her expression somber. “I feel awful for her,” she said. “Her father and brother are so overbearing. She’s never had a chance to live for herself.”
“Is there anything we can do to help her?”
Olivia shook her head. “Even speaking to me today was a risk. Her father loathes scandal and controls everything—his house, his name, and sadly, his daughter.”
Theodosia gave a sad smile. “At the expense of her happiness.”
“It’s always been that way,” Olivia said. “Even when we were girls.”
Just then, a stout, matronly woman approached in a crisp white apron, her hands folded in front of her. “May I help you find something, my lady?”
Olivia lifted a spool of pale blue and held it up. “I’d like to purchase these, please.”
“Of course, it would be my pleasure to assist you,” the woman said, taking the ribbons from her with a practiced smile. “I’ll place them on your account.”
As the woman bustled away, Theodosia looked again to the front window, her thoughts still with Jane. She wondered how many other young women were trapped in gilded cages, their futures dictated by duty and pride.
And how many would ever escape?
As they waited for the ribbon to be boxed up, Theodosia couldn’t help but reflect on how fortunate she was.
Unlike so many young women of her station, she possessed something rare: independence.
The modest estate her late father had left her was not only profitable but also a source of quiet pride.
She genuinely enjoyed managing it. It gave her purpose and, more importantly, choices.
Choices that women like Jane could only dream of.
The shop assistant returned with a neat parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with a ribbon. “Here is your ribbon, my lady. All boxed up and ready to go.”
Olivia accepted the bundle. “Thank you.”
They stepped outside onto the pavement, and a footman appeared by their side, having maintained a discreet distance throughout their outing. Olivia handed off the parcel without breaking stride.
As they made their way down the pavement towards the waiting coach, Olivia asked, “What shall we do now?”
A mischievous smile came to Theodosia’s lips. “We could return home and read one of those scandalous French romance novels you were telling me about.”
Olivia’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she picked up her pace. “Now that is a truly brilliant idea.”
Feeling bold, Theodosia added, “And with any luck, your brother won’t be home to scowl disapprovingly from the doorway.”
Olivia laughed loudly. “I must say, your disdain for Richard is one of my favorite things.”
“Trust me, the feeling is entirely mutual,” Theodosia said dryly.
“That,” Olivia replied, casting her a sidelong grin, “only makes it more entertaining for me.”
An image of Lord Wilton came to her mind as she climbed into the coach across from Olivia, and she quickly banished it.
Why did it matter if he disapproved of what she read?
His opinion had no bearing on her life. He was merely a vexing marquess with an overdeveloped sense of propriety and a talent for provoking her at every turn.
Still, the memory of his piercing blue eyes lingered longer than she liked, unsettling her more than she cared to admit. She straightened her spine, forcing herself to focus on the present. He doesn’t matter. You don’t answer to him, she reminded herself firmly.
So why did a small, traitorous part of her long to see him truly smile at her?