Chapter 17 #2
Theodosia lifted her gaze. “I devoured them. Especially the ones penned by women. Their voices felt... truer somehow. More intimate.”
Olivia smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. There’s power in those perspectives. You just have to know where to look.”
Theodosia shifted the books to her side, then added more softly, “And thank you for coming to my aid last night. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t.”
Olivia waved a hand, but there was a terseness in her words. “You owe me no thanks. Pritchett is a coward—accosting a woman in the shadows like some back-alley villain.”
“I never imagined he would stoop to such behavior.”
“People reveal their darkest sides when they’re cornered. When they think they’ve lost everything.” Olivia’s voice took on a pensive quality that gave Theodosia pause.
She studied her friend. “Is that how you feel? Like you’ve nothing left?”
Olivia exhaled slowly, turning her face towards the window as the city passed them by. “I don’t know what I feel anymore. Some days it’s despair. Other days... nothing at all.”
With gentle care, Theodosia reached across the coach, touching Olivia’s gloved hand. “You do have something left. You have yourself, your wit, your courage. Don’t let one man’s betrayal define your future.”
A weak smile flickered on Olivia’s lips. “A part of me believes that. But another part, the louder part, insists I’ve ruined everything beyond repair.”
“Then quiet the louder part,” Theodosia insisted. “You alone choose which thoughts to believe. That is a power no one can take from you.”
There was a long pause before Olivia whispered, “I fell in love with a rake who made me feel seen. I thought I could change him. I was wrong. And the worst part? I feel like a fool.”
“No,” Theodosia asserted. “You believed in love. That’s never foolish. It’s brave.”
Olivia let out a mirthless chuckle. “Perhaps I should abandon love altogether and take after my brother—practical to a fault.”
Theodosia grinned. “There must be a middle path. Somewhere between reckless rapture and rigid reason.”
After a moment, Olivia glanced sideways. “I told Richard last night. About Lord Harwood.”
Theodosia’s brows lifted. “You told him everything?”
“Heavens, no,” Olivia said quickly. “Only that I loved him. Had I confessed we were secretly engaged, Richard would’ve challenged him to a duel before sunrise.”
“Well,” Theodosia said, “I daresay Lord Harwood deserves a duel.”
Olivia laughed—genuinely this time. “Perhaps I should challenge him. It might do Society some good.”
“Women are far too practical for duels,” Theodosia said wryly. “We use our words as weapons. Far more effective, I’d argue.”
“Perhaps,” Olivia murmured. “Though a pistol would certainly solve some problems more quickly.”
Theodosia’s eyes flicked to the small reticule dangling from Olivia’s wrist. “Are you carrying your muff pistol now?”
“I am,” Olivia said without a trace of shame.
“Well, oddly enough, I feel safer knowing that,” Theodosia admitted. “Though your brother insists upon footmen for our protection.”
“One can never be too prepared,” Olivia replied.
Just then, the coach slowed and came to a gentle halt. Theodosia gathered the books and stepped onto the pavement, nodding for Olivia to follow. Together, they crossed the pavement and entered the familiar hush of the circulating library.
After returning their finished books inside, they wandered among the shelves, the quiet rustle of pages and distant murmurs of other patrons surrounding them like a comforting shroud.
Theodosia had just reached for a novel with a blue cloth cover when a voice, low and unwelcomely familiar, broke through the calm.
“We meet again.”
A cold shiver coursed down her spine. Slowly, she turned to face Mr. Pritchett.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a hushed voice, her fingers tightening around the book.
“I came to speak with you,” he said simply.
“I’ve no interest in anything you have to say,” Theodosia asserted.
Olivia was instantly at her side, her posture stiff with outrage. “You heard her. Leave.”
“I will,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But not before I speak my piece.”
“Or I could shoot you,” Olivia stated.
Mr. Pritchett bristled. “I mean no harm, truly.”
A few heads had begun to turn, and Theodosia, aware of the eyes upon them, gave a tight nod. “Say what you will, and quickly.”
“May we speak privately?”
His request was almost ludicrous. “You forfeited that right last night,” she responded. “You attacked me.”
His jaw twitched, but he said, “I wanted you to know that I’m leaving London tomorrow.”
Olivia muttered, “Good riddance.”
“But I was hoping you’d come with me,” he continued.
Theodosia reared back. “You must be mad,” she said. “Why would I ever leave with you?”
“You don’t belong here,” he insisted, stepping forward. “This isn’t you. You belong back in our village, managing your estate, not playing dress up and wasting time in the drawing room.”
“Who says this isn’t me?”
“I know you,” he said. “You can pretend all you want, but this life will sour on your tongue. You’ll tire of it. You will.”
“I don’t require your concern,” she remarked.
He gave a scoffing laugh. “So you enjoy being a lady’s companion? Playing servant to nobility? You think that makes you happy?”
“I don’t care what you think.”
“But you haven’t denied it,” he remarked. “Not once. And I’ve seen how Lord Wilton looks at you. I daresay he wants you for his mistress.”
Theodosia tensed. “He is an honorable man, far above your slander. You don’t deserve to speak his name.”
Mr. Pritchett took a step back, his expression hardening. “Think on it. You’re an interloper here. They’ll never truly accept you.”
From the side, Olivia leaned in and whispered, “Say the word and I will shoot him in the foot.”
“There’s no need,” Theodosia said tightly. “Mr. Pritchett was just leaving.”
He clicked his tongue. “I thought you were clever. But you’ve let luxury beguile you. And you’ll regret that.”
“Why the sudden concern?”
His voice softened. “Because… I still believe we could have been happy.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re delusional.”
He didn’t deny it. “But a part of you knows I’m right. If you change your mind, I’ll be at the Wolf and Badger Inn until morning.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Then enjoy your solitude. I won’t be coming.”
Disappointment flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing more. With a curt nod, he turned and disappeared into the rows of books.
As he vanished from sight, Olivia muttered, “I should have shot him.”
Theodosia let out a shaky breath. “Let’s just find a novel worth getting lost in.”
After a long, contemplative silence, Olivia turned towards her friend, her voice quiet but steady. “Mr. Pritchett was wrong, you know. You do belong here.”
“Do I?” she asked, her voice more uncertain than she intended. “I’m merely the daughter of a baronet. A companion. The ton will never truly welcome me, especially not as one of their own.”
“Well, then the ton is blind,” Olivia said. “Because I certainly don’t see you that way. You’re not just a companion, Dosia—you’re my friend. And I, for one, am grateful you’re here. London is far more bearable with you in it.”
A warmth stirred in Theodosia’s chest, softening the sharp edges left behind by Mr. Pritchett’s cruel words. “I feel the same,” she murmured. “I hadn’t realized how much I needed someone like you.”
Olivia leaned her shoulder against the nearest shelf. “What say you to a bit of lemon ice after we’ve chosen our books? I feel we’ve earned it.”
Theodosia’s brows arched. “Shouldn’t we be preparing for the ball this evening?”
Olivia waved a dismissive hand. “We should, yes. But it won’t take long, and I’m firmly of the opinion that lemon ice can mend almost any ailment, especially the emotional sort. Even if only temporarily.”
A smile crept across Theodosia’s face, her spirits lifting. “In that case, I have no objections.”
“Splendid,” Olivia said, straightening. “And should Mr. Pritchett appear at Gunter’s again, I shall be forced to shoot him.”
Theodosia gave a laugh, more genuine now. “I think that sounds more than reasonable.”
“Would you like a muff pistol of your own? I have a spare one at the townhouse.”
Theodosia considered it for a moment before replying, “Given recent events… yes, I believe I would. It’s rather comforting, knowing one could defend oneself if necessary.”
Olivia grinned. “Excellent. Just don’t tell my brother. He would be most unamused.”
“Would he object?”
“Oh, not exactly,” Olivia responded. “But I daresay he rather fancies himself your protector.”
Theodosia gave her a wary look. “I’m afraid to ask what you mean by that.”
Olivia gave a nonchalant shrug, her expression perfectly innocent. “Nothing at all. Only that he seems particularly invested in your safety. Quite touchingly so.”
Theodosia’s cheeks warmed, but she kept her voice composed. “That is because I’m under his protection as your companion.”
“Yes,” Olivia said lightly, already turning back to the shelves. “Let’s go with that.” Her fingers trailed across the spines of the neatly arranged volumes, eyes scanning for titles, though her smirk suggested her thoughts were elsewhere.