Chapter 46
46
Olivia was disappointed but not overly concerned when Seth failed to come to her that night. He’d asked her to trust him, and trust him she must, hoping that in his world, Ernest would be made to pay for his crime. But patience was not one of her virtues and she was desperate to ask his advice regarding Tanner. She knew she’d rushed the man, and that her behaviour in the stables had been ill-thought-out, but Impulsive had long been her middle name and that would never change.
Instead, she spent the time working on her new novel, infusing it with joy and magic, a dash of peril and, this time, giving her heroine a happy ending. Art imitating life, she’d decided, was not the way to go. The publisher was correct: everyone was looking for their sunshine. Even her.
The following day, she turned her attentions to the Christmas dance that the Fairchilds were laying on for the servants. It wasn’t that they had anything to celebrate – far from it – but, in the end, everything came down to duty. It was Sir Hugo’s duty to lead by example. He must look after those in his employ and make sure they knew they were appreciated, hoping that by hosting such an event, he would foster loyalty and gratitude. The world would shortly be ushering in a decade that everyone hoped would mark a fresh start and it was time to put the past to bed. Men had died so that those they cared about might have a brighter future and people were slowly embracing this. Even Cynthia was determined that her boys should not have sacrificed themselves in vain.
The dance was to be held in the servants’ hall and, as the preparations got underway, Olivia felt the atmosphere of the household palpably brighten. She overheard some of the maids tittering about their dresses, even though there would be only a handful of young men to appreciate them in their finery. From her window in the tower, she observed Rowe and Tanner ferry greenery into the east wing, as she sewed, rather haphazardly, beads onto the dress she planned to wear for the evening. The head gardener had long since cultivated a small grove of Norway spruce for this time of year, and she’d witnessed them wrestle a sturdy ten-foot specimen, which had been felled for just this occasion, through a door that was far too small. A recently purchased gramophone was also moved from the main house to the hall to provide lively music, and the family were even providing some bottles of champagne.
She cared more than she should about this gathering because Tanner would be there. The family would only attend for a short while at the start of the evening, hand out small gifts and then retire to allow the servants the freedom to enjoy themselves. But Olivia was determined to make a point and catch the eye of a particularly infuriating, self-pitying young man. Sir Hugo would be expected to dance with the housekeeper and cook, and Cynthia to let the butler take her for a spin about the room. Some of the younger maids had even been overheard expressing their desire to be waltzed by Master Benji. But would Tanner ask her for a dance? And if he didn’t, then hopefully he would at least start to appreciate what he was missing out on.
The dress she wore that evening was quite extraordinary. Cynthia had gifted her an old evening gown and she’d added a diaphanous layer of tulle, which she embellished with glass beads and tiny silk bows. She’d threaded pearls and ivy through her loose hair and attached a tiny pair of wings, fashioned from thin wire and a length of delicate net curtain, to her back. In her hand, she held a silver wand.
With her shoulders straight and head high, she entered the hall, and was rewarded by compliments from many of the older servants, their crinkled faces breaking into smiles of delight, heartened that the bereaved fiancée of the third Fairchild heir was finding joy in the world again. The staff of Merriford were long used to her eccentricities and occasional forays into costume, but Tanner was not. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her, and his eye burned into the back of her head and the side of her face as she did her duty and made sure to talk to each and every person in the room, thank them for their service and wish them all the best for the festive season.
The dancing began and the boot boy, a young lad of barely fourteen, cheekily asked Miss Davenport if she would partner him for a two-step. She hadn’t danced since Howard’s death but cautiously embraced the simple backwards and forwards to ‘Alexander’s Ragtime Band’, knowing that Tanner was still mesmerised by the strange young woman he had never fully understood. She whirled about the room, growing in confidence, and lost herself in the music, letting go of her pain for those few minutes and unable to prevent her face breaking out into a smile of pure joy. She hoped that Howard was looking down on her from above and smiling, too.
When the song came to an end, she walked purposefully over to where Tanner was standing, next to old Mr Rowe. She saw the young man stiffen as she approached, almost readying himself for a confrontation.
‘Gentlemen?’ Her tone was questioning. This was his chance to ask her to dance. She’d made it easy for him. It was the one time and place when no one would bat an eyelid at such intimacy. Could he not smell the rose water she was wearing? Was he not tempted to put his arm about her and pull her close?
Her stomach rolled over slowly as the silence stretched before them. Rowe gave a nervous cough and Olivia finally acknowledged that Seth was not going to step up. Instead, she thrust her wand into his hand – a length of hazel that she’d wrapped in silver ribbon – before turning to the elderly head gardener and leading him onto the dance floor.
Tanner frowned, staring at the curious object, as she cast a backwards glance over her shoulder.
‘Keep it,’ she said. ‘You need the magic more than I do. I have learned to make my own.’
* * *
It was not long after that waltz that the family retired and left the servants to their fun.
‘Wings?’ Cynthia exclaimed, her eyes twinkling, as they settled in front of the drawing-room fire and Sir Hugo poured them all a nightcap. ‘Dear girl, you never cease to astound me.’
‘You look beautiful,’ her husband said to Olivia, as he handed her a small port. ‘It’s so lovely to see the old Olivia back. I hope you will always be whoever and whatever you wish to be. The old ways are changing and we must embrace the new, my love,’ he said to his wife. ‘It’s what we fought for – a bright future.’
They toasted each dead Fairchild son in turn, and then Sir Hugo raised a glass to Benji, who was still flushed from the overexuberant attentions of the slightly tipsy household maids.
‘To Benjamin. My son. My future. I know he will do me proud.’
* * *
The euphoria of the night continued when Seth’s reassuring voice drifted through the bricks of her bedroom wall half an hour later. Strangely, there was no Christmas dance in his world, and she wondered how much her presence at Merriford Manor had altered the path of events. Olivia understood Seth’s Lady Fairchild to be a lonely and unfulfilled woman. She did not drive, she rarely laughed, and she had lost all interest in her gardens.
Seth bounced down on the bed with exciting news: Ernest had been arrested and things were moving fast.
‘The housekeeper told us in the servants’ hall that she’d never seen the master so angry,’ he said. ‘The Fairchilds feel responsible as it was Clarence who introduced Miss Davenport to Mr Dunn. Master Benjamin then told his parents the truth of Clarence’s scar, which made Lady Fairchild cry, and Mrs Davenport insisted that her daughter break off the engagement immediately.’
Olivia was more relieved than she could say that there would be no wedding. If this crossover of worlds hadn’t existed, there would be a version of her out there somewhere marrying a manipulative and dangerous man.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said. ‘You’ve served a justice that this world will never get to see and, whilst I know that it’s something you can’t rush, you will eventually be able to pursue your romantic interests. I know me, and I know that your declaration will have piqued her interest and be simmering away in her mind. If nothing else, I am a curious and romantic soul.’
‘I’m only thankful that you told me the truth.’ There was no accusation in his voice, just genuine relief that disaster had been avoided. ‘Oh, Olivia.’ He sighed. ‘I can’t tell you how much this turn of events has given me hope, even though it will take weeks for all this unpleasantness to die down.’ She heard him wriggle about on his bed and settle himself. ‘But sometimes, it’s hard, isn’t it? Being in love with two people who are really the same person? I’ve accepted that I can’t have you, but I also know that she is you – so why does it feel she’s a second choice, a substitute for the real thing?’
‘I understand completely. My Tanner doesn’t have your joy for life or desire for adventure. He’s the same but frustratingly different.’
‘How is the poor man? I’ve been so swept up with everything that I forgot to ask how you were getting on.’
The eagerness in his voice made her feel obliged to soften the truth.
‘It will take time here too.’