Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia unraveled her clenched fists, one finger at a time.
She had been forced to perch upon a stool that had been placed upon the makeshift platform that Lady Charlotte had ordered the staff to hastily erect.
As soon as Lord Camden had sent word that she was injured and would not be able to join the others, Lady Charlotte and the others had returned with Madame Lennox in tow.
As time ticked by slowly, the throbbing in Olivia’s ankle had become unbearable, yet she wasn’t about to complain while Madame Lennox worked her magic, pinning material about Olivia’s body.
The poor dressmaker was being ordered in one direction and then another by three very determined ladies, all of whom had unequivocally impeccable taste but extremely different visions for her gown.
Madame Lennox peered up with a pleading glance and whispered, “You must say something.”
“Are you mad?” she murmured and took in the fiercely determined ladies circling her.
Lady Charlotte turned to Lady Anne. “I beg to differ. Lace is what is needed, not ribbon.”
“I can tell you are in pain. How much longer are ye goin’ to put up with their nonsense?” The dressmaker lifted her hem and then let it fall again.
Lady Guernsey’s gaze lowered to her hem. “Olivia?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Your leg appears to be as large as an elephant's.” The older woman stepped up onto the dais and then assisted her to stand. When Olivia wobbled, Lady Guernsey steadied her as if she weighed no more than a feather and assisted her to sit upon the settee with a maternal touch Olivia had never been privy to before. Settling in next to her, Lady Guernsey said, “Going forward, you must not hold your tongue, especially in my presence.” She grabbed Olivia’s hand and patted it.
“I can assure you I won’t hold mine about you. ”
Why was Warren’s mama, who had always seemed uninterested in managing the staff, being so considerate?
Gaze fixated on their hands, Lady Guernsey said, “I’ve grown and matured over the years since you left Guernsey Manor. And since the passing of my husband, I’ve come to realize that I neglected much under my purview.”
At a loss for what to say, Olivia rubbed her thumb lightly against Lady Guernsey’s palm.
The slight crinkle at the corners of Lady Guernsey’s eyes set Olivia at ease.
While Madame Lennox was managing Lady Charlotte and Lady Anne, Olivia sat in peaceful silence with the older woman.
It would be nice to have a mother to confide in, once more.
Her mama had sheltered her from the world and fed her lies not unlike the way Warren’s father had done to him, out of fear not malice.
However, when it had come time for her to stand on her own, she hadn’t been prepared for the world.
The door swung open, and Lord Camden walked in closely followed by Warren.
The gentlemen’s demeanors were like day and night.
The light and cheerful Lord Camden didn’t hesitate to approach Lady Charlotte, who was still debating over Olivia’s dress with Lady Anne.
The earl wrapped an arm about his wife and smiled down at her as she glared back up at him.
After a minute or perhaps two, with their gazes locked on one another, Lady Charlotte sighed and then turned to Lady Anne. “I shall leave Olivia in your care.”
The couple left the room staring one another down as they continued the silent battle of wills.
Lady Anne turned and immediately began looking over the sample of ribbons alongside a visibly more relieved Madame Lennox.
“Not all husbands are as considerate as Lord Camden,” Lady Guernsey remarked in a wistful tone, drawing Olivia’s attention back to the matron.
Olivia studied the matron’s features. During the brief period she’d resided at Guernsey Manor, Warren’s mama mostly kept to herself, with her nose in a book or outdoors with watercolors.
She’d observed Warren skillfully avoid his father, while simultaneously watching over his mama from afar.
Olivia often wondered if Warren felt like an intruder in his own home, since he sneaked about like a thief most days.
Lady Guernsey’s features brightened, and Olivia followed the matron’s gaze.
Her son was pushing an ottoman toward them.
“You should have your leg elevated,” Warren barked at her as he positioned the footrest in front of her.
He didn’t hoover over her. Instead, he stood and walked over to join Lady Anne and the dressmaker, who had found the courage to voice her own opinions on Olivia’s dress.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, clearly still displeased.
Olivia shivered at the sight of Warren’s scowl.
His dark, menacing features left no question as to his displeasure and were exactly as she remembered his father had been when he banished her from Guernsey Manor ten years ago.
If he was this displeased at seeing her seated, it was a good thing he hadn’t entered earlier and seen her half standing.
She raised her leg to rest upon the ottoman, and her jaw clenched as she settled her foot atop it.
Her ankle was indeed tender and sore, but it was by no means worse than the ache that had torn at her heart the night she and her mama fled alongside Ian and his father.
Lady Guernsey squeezed her hand. “Dear, should Warren take you to your chambers?”
“Why are you being so kind to me?” Olivia blurted, forgetting who she was addressing.
“You are the one Warren wishes to marry, and from the very first time we met, I knew you would be perfect for my son.” A tear escaped and trickled down the matron's cheek. “I had no say in the matter when I married Warren’s father. And while I wish to have you as my daughter-in-law, you shall have a choice. No one will force you to do anything against your will. I meant to share earlier that if you truly want to return to the kitchens, I shall support your decision. I simply wish you would give us a fair chance to get to know you better.”
“You don’t care that I’m not a blueblood?”
“Bah. Bluebloods are no different than others. Lady Charlotte helped me see that I might have been drawn to you more because you were not.”
Olivia couldn’t help but smile. “Lady Charlotte has a peculiar way of making you see things the way she wants you to, doesn’t she?”
“She does indeed.” Lady Guernsey’s gaze drifted over to Lady Anne and Warren, who were standing next to one another.
“There was a time when I thought Anne might become the next Lady Guernsey, but Anne’s heart belongs to another.
Have you ever wondered which was worse, never having been in love or unrequited love? ”
Without hesitation, her answer rolled off her tongue, “Oh, unrequited love most definitely.”
“Hmm… I must say I thought Lady Charlotte was quick to answer that question, but you might have her beat.” The matron patted her hand and rose to her feet.
“That can’t be so. Lord Camden is utterly smitten with Lady Charlotte. What would the countess know about unrequited love?” Olivia’s question hung in the air as Warren and Lady Anne approached.
Hand cupped over her mouth, Lady Guernsey shared in a whisper, “You have much to learn about courtship and marriage.”
“Mama, you make it rather difficult to read your lips when you do that,” Warren teased as he came to a stop next to Olivia.
Lady Anne linked an arm about Lady Guernsey’s. “Madame Lennox has assured me all of our gowns shall be delivered in time for the ball.” The matron only managed a nod before Lady Anne continued, “Did you know that Madame Lennox’s brother-in-law is none other than Lord Hadfield?”
“Is that so?” Of course, Lady Guernsey’s response was framed as a question. Both son and mother answered queries with one of their own, but in this instance, Olivia suspected the matron was merely leading the conversation in the direction she intended.
“Yes, Lord Hadfield’s younger brother married Madame Lennox’s older sister.”
“So, a blueblood married a dressmaker. Sounds like an interesting couple. We shall have to make it a point to gain an introduction.” Lady Guernsey and Lady Anne didn’t so much as glance down at Olivia during the entire conversation, despite that it was clearly meant for her ears.
“Time for us to set off,” Lady Anne declared before she bent and gave Olivia a hug.
“Wishing you a speedy recovery, for I’m looking forward to seeing you in your gown and on the dance floor with this one…
” She stuck her thumb in the direction of Warren.
“He’s come along, since he was my practice partner, haven’t you, Mr. Two Left Feet. ”
Still in shock at receiving such a display of affection, Olivia nodded and watched as Lady Anne escorted Lady Guernsey to the door. The matron glanced over her shoulder and gave her a wink just before they crossed the threshold into the hall.
Warren sank down onto his knee. “I’ve been invited for supper, but first I must accompany Anne and Mama back home. Will you be fine here or shall I take you up to your rooms to rest?”
Her gaze lowered to his lips. Blimey. Best not have him carry her, or she might kiss the man. She shook her head and fibbed, “I’d prefer to rest here.”
His brows knitted for a moment before he smiled as he rose to his feet. He bent and placed a chaste kiss atop her head. “I’ll return shortly.”
Olivia nodded and admired his broad shoulders and back as he exited. The tinkling of buttons reminded her she was not alone. Madame Lennox was busily refolding material and packing her travel case. Had she seen Warren kissing her? Heat flooded her cheeks, and she pressed her palms to her face.
“I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Madame Lennox crossed the room and seated herself in the chair next to Olivia.
“Are you really related to Lord Hadfield?”
“I am.” Madame Lennox smiled. “You know both Neale brothers married commoners. Lord Hadfield married Bronwyn, a tobacco seller’s daughter. Then my sister, Emma, who happened to be Bronwyn’s best friend, married Christopher, Lord Hadfield's younger brother.”
Olivia took a moment to process all Madame Lennox had shared. “So, I wouldn’t be the first non-blueblood to marry a lord.”
“Of course not. And ye won’t be the last.”
Blurting the first question that came to mind, Olivia asked, “Did your sister fall in love first?”
Madam Lennox’s hearty laugh filled the room. “Emma wanted nothing to do with Christopher. Thankfully, he wore her down, for he is the only man alive who would find her stubborn nature charming.”
“Are you married?”
“I am.”
“To a blueblood?” Olivia asked.
“Most definitely not.” Madam Lennox shook her head vigorously. “Although, I was engaged to a third son of a baron for a short spell.”
Olivia leaned forward and placed her hand upon Madam Lennox’s arm, “What happened?”
“I discovered him with another woman.”
She stared at the woman next to her, who held not a single trace of anger in her features nor her voice.
“Now that is a face I won’t forget anytime soon.” The dressmaker’s laughter was infectious, and Olivia found herself grinning.
“Were you not hurt by his actions?”
Instantly sobering, Madam Lennox calmly answered, “Not really. He never displayed his affection for me like Christopher did with Emma. Christopher would go to the end of the world to find Emma if she ran away like I had. No. I learned that not all men of the ton are worthy of the title gentleman.” Her lips curved into a smile.
“Warren, I mean Lord Guernsey, now he is a gentleman.”
“Do you know Warren well?” Olivia gave herself a mental shake. She was mimicking Warren’s perpetual habit of asking question after question.
“I do.” Shifting forward, Madam Lennox perched on the edge of her seat and leaned in closer.
“His tiresome search for you was what led me to meet my husband. At first, it was amusing to watch him hunt you down, knowing full well you were never far. However, as the years passed, I found his determination to find you both sad and inspiring. I tried to intervene, even though I had been forbidden by my elders, and that is when Bruce, my husband, came into my life.”
“Just so I understand… You know Warren well, but does he know you?” Egad! Again with the questions. She really must break the irritating habit, although Madame Lennox did not appear annoyed in the least.
“You are as smart as Ian claims. Which means I best leave before I say something I shouldn’t.” The dressmaker stood and shook out her skirts. “Don’t worry, I know you too, and your gown shall be designed for you and not according to those meddling ladies’ wishes.”
Ever since joining Ian at Lord Camden’s estate, she’d often heard whispers of spies and a secret network.
Unable to manage her own simple life, she had ignored the intriguing tales.
If Lady Charlotte was involved in matters of the Crown or espionage, that would explain a number of her rather peculiar habits, like frequenting the Velvet Hell.
Olivia would imagine tongues wagged at such places and would be an excellent source of information.
Arms full with material and her valise, Madame Lennox asked, “When Emma returns from the Americas, shall I have her pay you a visit?”
“I don’t expect that will be necessary,” Olivia answered but regretted her reply at the disappearance of Madame Lennox’s smile.
“Then I shall look forward to working on your wedding trousseau.” The dressmaker bobbed a quick curtsy and left.
Knowing Olivia was no more than a maid, then why in heaven had Madame Lennox curtsied as if in the presence of a lady? If she were to become the next Lady Guernsey, she’d have to become accustomed to such treatment. There were worse fates than that.
Olivia let her head fall back to rest upon the back of the settee.
Eyes closed, she began to recount her conversation with Madame Lennox.
Minutes or hours later, she was left with more questions than answers, yet, somehow, the knowledge that others had faced the same challenges put her heart at ease.