Lady Olivia's Undoing (4 page)

Olivia undid two buttons on her gloves as she
walked down the hall. She took a deep breath as her hand reached
for the door latch. Olivia smiled and opened the door. “Dearest,
you’re home at last.” Olivia approached Penny with her arms open
for a hug.

Penny stepped back. “Hello, Aunt.”

Olivia shot a glance to William. He walked
over to her.

“Hello, Lady O. How do you do?”

Olivia grabbed William and embraced him. “Oh
my dearest, I am so very sorry for your loss.” She kissed his cheek
and looked at Penny. “My dearest girl, you must know, my heart is
broken. I cannot bear …”

“Forgive me, Aunt,” Penny said, in a tone
Olivia had never heard before. “We are only here to tell you that
William and I will be staying at St. James Place whilst we are in
London. Quiggins informed us that Cousin Constance and her family
will be staying over the holiday and we do not wish to intrude.”
Penny tilted her head, jutting her nose in the air.

Olivia stared at her niece. “
What
? No.
I shall not hear of it. Who will take care of you?”

“We have Jenks, and Tribbs is excellent at
making potions for whatever ails us.” She smiled at William. “My
mother will come by for tea I’m sure. And you are welcome.” Penny
nodded to William. “I believe it is for the best, Aunt.” Penny
pressed a brief kiss to Olivia’s cheek, then walked to William at
the door.

Before Olivia could utter a word of protest,
they were gone. What had just happened? She replayed the short
conversation in her head. They were moving to St. James? That place
was dreadful. And even though Penny had redecorated, William’s town
home remained a bachelor quarters. Perhaps Penny had already
thought of the nursery at Caymore House. There was no baby’s room
at the house on St. James.

Oh, yes, she would come for tea. Tomorrow if
need be. Olivia ran to the door and pulled it open. Up the hall,
Quiggins clicked the latch on the front door.

“Did you speak to them again? Did they tell
you?” Olivia called as she raced up the hall. “How does she think
she’s going to manage in that ramshackle old house for the duration
of the winter. I do not believe one fireplace works properly in
there. They will freeze to death.”

John raised his brow. “You are not her
mother. You are her aunt. And she is a grown woman who wants to
live with her husband in relative peace as she finds her way back
into Society. Once her friends realize Penny is in town,
invitations will arrive. She will have to face them sooner or
later.”

Olivia hadn’t thought. Of course, all Penny’s
friends were in a state of motherhood these days. Penny’s baby was
to be number four in her circle. Olivia looked at John. “How do you
manage to know so much about the fragile human condition?” She
heaved a heavy sigh as tears threatened to fall. “Whatever shall I
do without you?”

John reached out to touch her hand and then
let it fall to his side. “You will be relieved to know that I hired
a butler. He will arrive on Friday.”

John nodded down the hall and Olivia walked
beside him.

“Who is he?” She stepped into the yellow
salon and motioned for him to close the door. When he did, she
stepped over to him, her wrists held out. “Would you mind? I cannot
unbutton them.”

John unfastened the last two buttons. “His
name is Manning. He is on loan to you from Lord Haverlane and Lady
Violet with their compliments.”

Olivia glanced at John. “Surely, they will
have some company over Christmastide.”

“They are leaving for Fairhaven on Thursday.
Manning’s only request was that he be allowed to see his mother on
Christmas morning. He would be back by twelve.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll be glad to have him at
any price. How unusual though. I thought Violet of all people would
want to see Penny.”

“Perhaps Lady Violet thinks her appearance
would overset Penny.”

Olivia nodded. Violet’s loose clothing left
no doubt about her state of gravidation. “Yes, perhaps you are
right. I hope Penny does not think ill of her.”

John shook his head. “I’m sure not. Lady
Violet is only thinking of Penny’s feelings. Penny will see that.
She only needs a little time.”

Olivia touched John’s cheek. “What shall I do
without you?”

He winked at her. “I’m sure you will find
something to keep you occupied.” He stepped back. “I have many
things to attend today and Andrew on my heel. I shall take my leave
of you now.” He bowed and exited the room.

Olivia turned to the windows that overlooked
the small side garden. Penny needed time alone, and if she wanted
to be with William in that decrepit old building, then so be it.
Olivia would stop by Olmstead House and speak to Honoria, Penny’s
mother. Honoria would know the real reason behind the move.

She glanced at her desk. The tray on top held
several items of correspondence. She should attend to those before
luncheon.

Olivia couldn’t bear to sit down to a meal
alone and sent a note round to her closest friend Joanna, the
Duchess of Cantin. Joanna would want to know about the baby, she
was William’s aunt.

Joanna arrived promptly at half past one.
When Olivia met her in the hall, she blurted, “Penny has lost the
baby.”

“Oh, no. Olivia, I am so sorry.” Joanna
embraced her. “Oh, how is Penny? Is she here?”

Olivia looped her arm through Joanna’s, and
headed down the hall. “No. She has decided to stay at St. James
Place.”

“Good heavens, why?”

“I think she must have realized, as I finally
did, there is no nursery there.”

Joanna nodded her head. “Poor thing. Did you
see her? How does she look?”

“Very well indeed.” Olivia led Joanna into
the small morning room. “But she is young, and resilient. Though it
is anyone’s guess how long she will mourn. She is angry and was
hardly civil to me. However, I do understand you always hurt the
ones you love the most as you know they will always forgive you.”
Olivia smiled. “Dearest, do forgive my prattling. I did not invite
you for tea and misery. I hope you do not mind, it is only the two
of us. I hate to waste the wood to heat the dining room.” Olivia
pulled out a chair for Joanna and then sat in the other.

Joanna waved her hand. “We would be eating in
the kitchen if Stephen had his way.” Joanna’s late husband Stephen
had passed from his mortal coil almost two years before.

“Do you remember the night he nearly set the
linens on fire?” Olivia asked.

She and Joanna shared another laugh, and then
Joanna sobered. “Who is going to take care of Penny?”

Olivia nodded. “That is exactly what I said,
but they have gone.” She cocked her head slightly. “I have been
welcomed to come to tea.”

Joanna touched her arm. “You know she does
not mean any of this.”

“Yes, I know. But to hear her speak, I almost
think she blames me for the loss. As if I somehow had a hand in
it.”

“That is absurd,” Joanna said. “Her heart is
only lashing out, dearest.”

“Yes.” Olivia sighed. “I know.”

“Have you spoken to Honoria?” Joanna
asked.

“No, not yet. Constance is arriving any day,
John is leaving for some foolishness brought about by the Foreign
Office, and I have been in such tumult over the state of Caymore
House, I have not had time. I shall make all due haste to speak
with her this afternoon.”

Olivia and Joanna spent nearly two hours
keeping each other company, but at three o’clock Joanna left for
another appointment.

After Joanna departed, Olivia thumbed through
her upcoming invitations and wrote menus for the next week. By the
time she had settled everything with Cook it neared four-thirty.
She may as well get the interview with the Foreign Secretary
over.

At Whitehall, Olivia was shown through a
myriad of halls, and then to a colorless, windowless room. The man
behind the desk barely looked up when she said, “I am Lady Caymore.
I believe the Secretary said he could spare me a few moments at
half past four.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” He walked over to
the private office and knocked. He waited and then knocked again.
The door opened.

“This had better be…” Richard Wellesley took
in Olivia standing by the chair. “Your Grace. How delightful to see
you. Please, step into my office.” He sidestepped her and spoke to
his secretary. The man left the office.

Wellesley ushered her into another small
room, but at least this one had a window. And a view of the Tower
of London. He offered her a chair. “To what do I owe the distinct
honor of having you here? Surely, this cannot be a social
call.”

Richard Wellesley, Marquess of Wellesley, had
been in India for the last two decades, crushing rebellions amidst
warring factions, and gaining control of the fledgling
Parliamentary government. Some speculated his appointment in 1809
as Foreign Secretary had been brought about by Prince George to
hide the shame of Viscount Castlereagh and George Canning’s duel
over the post. That had added more fuel to the burgeoning disgust
from the people about the state of the British government since
King George’s madness had returned. With Wellesley, it was hoped
the people would see a proven leader.

Olivia had met Richard Wellesley, and his
brother Arthur, when they were all so very young, when she was a
new bride and they were just foot soldiers in His Majesty’s Army.
General Arthur Wellesley was now in Portugal fighting the French.
However, Olivia had heard the rear guard had lost the siege at
Albuera in Spain and that Arthur was going to try again for Madrid.
Is that where John was being sent?

“Wellesley,” Olivia said. “I wonder why, at
the height of the holiday season you wish to take Quiggins away? He
informs me that he and Dunbury are off on some grand adventure to
Spain. What are you doing? What is so important now?” She tried to
keep her voice light, as a lady should.

“Your Grace, please. You must understand I am
not at liberty to speak of this to you. Their involvement is merely
a formality, strictly a diplomatic endeavor. Rest assured, they are
traveling with a battalion of men, and will be extricated swiftly
once their portion of the mission is complete. That is all I can
tell you.”

“Or all you
will
tell me.” Olivia
pouted. “Do you truly need to send Quiggins? He is not as young as
he once was.”

Wellesley looked straight into Olivia’s eyes.
“John Quiggins is imperative to this operation, Your Grace. He
must
go.”

“Then tell me
why
he is so important.”
Her tone held an edge of impatience.

Wellesley took a breath. “He is a Colonel in
His Majesty’s Army and a highly skilled field operative who can
speak fifteen languages.”

“Where are you sending him?”

“Your Grace, I am not at liberty to…”

“Where are you sending him?” Olivia
demanded.

“Arthur needs to take Badajoz for the road
into Madrid.”

Olivia sank into a chair. William and his
friend Davingdale had almost lost their lives there. “Badajoz has
already been tried unsuccessfully three times. How many more men
will be killed for an uncertain gain?” Olivia asked. “Surely, even
your brother can see there is no use in beating a dead horse. There
are several other roads into that blasted city. Can he not take one
of those? Without Quiggins?”

Wellesley leaned against his desk and crossed
his arms. “Your Grace, please. You cannot understand the
significance of this endeavor.”

“I beg your pardon.” Olivia rose and looked
Wellesley in the eye. “I understand women’s tears when they receive
the news their husbands are never coming home. I understand the
children who are orphaned. I understand the burden they all must
bear. Do
not
tell me I do not understand the significance of
this foolish endeavor.”

Wellesley cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I
promise I shall do my best to keep Quiggins away from any real
danger. Now, that is all I will say on the matter.”

“Mark my words,” Olivia said. “If something
happens to him, I shall be very displeased.”

Wellesley raised a brow. “Why this sudden
interest in Quiggins, Your Grace? You did not seem to mind when he
was off to France. Are you afraid you will lose your butler?”

If Olivia had been a man, she would have
punched him in the nose. “Quiggins has become an integral part of
my household. I have grown quite fond of the old thing.”

Wellesley smiled. “Nothing will happen. You
are worrying for no reason. Come.” He pushed himself off the desk.
“Let me walk you out.”

Olivia took his arm in the hall, and asked
about his wife and their children. She made small talk, all the
while brewing inside, wanting to scream.

Olivia pulled the knocker at Olmstead
House.

Bennett, the butler, opened the door. “Your
Grace.” He bowed as she walked through.

Charles Leighton, Fitzhugh’s nephew, met her
in the hall. “Olivia.”

“How are you, darling?” Olivia asked as she
brushed his cheek with a quick kiss, and then turned to Bennett
with her cape.

“What are you doing here?” Charles asked and
led her into the library.

“I thought to see Honoria if she’s about.”
Olivia stopped just beyond the desk.

“I’m sorry to say, Olivia, she’s with
Penny.”

“Oh.” Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of
course, Honoria would care for her daughter. Olivia tried to
convince herself that moving to St. James was best for Penny, but
her heart still ached that Penny had shut her out.

“Forgive me, Olivia,” Charles said. “Penny
has had a rough go of it.”

“No, there is nothing to forgive.” Olivia sat
on the edge of the chair. Never one to beat around the bush, Olivia
asked, “Charles, I wonder if you knew how much of an annuity
Fitzhugh left me?” She had been thinking about this since John had
given her the news about the baby.