Only Olivia

Chapter Twenty

Despite what his mother said, Ellis did have a duty to fulfill, lest the great line of Linville earls died with him. And he had accepted invites to a number of balls, sure to be filled to the brim with debutantes.

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People did not often stop Olivia as she went out on her errands. She often spent the entire afternoon without stopping once to chat with acquaintances. She rarely made calls about Mayfair and often only visited Hatchard's. On this balmy September day, she decided to shop for new fripperies-- gloves, muffs, and shawls-- in anticipation of the oncoming winter. She mulled over mink muffs, fur-lined kid leather gloves and wool stockings.

She did not often splurge on such items. But, everyone claimed this winter would be a particularly frigid one. Hence the need for fur in every part of her wardrobe. She stepped out of the milliner's and back into the hot sun.

Opening her parasol, she paused as a woman slowed to a stop outside the shop. "Oh, pardon me," she whispered and side-stepped.

The woman lowered her parasol. Her sunny smile blinded Olivia. "You must be Miss Fairfax," she cooed in a sultry voice.

Olivia looked the woman over from top to bottom. She was not very tall at all, the governess could look the woman in the eye. A pair of charming blue eyes peered back at her. She had colouring of a porcelain milkmaid, all rosy cheeks, ivory skin and pale blonde hair.

"You have the advantage of me..."

"Do forgive me, Miss Fairfax," she said, reaching out her hands to place upon Olivia's. "We have a mutual friend."

The governess removed her hands from the woman's. She had gripped a little too hard. "We do? Are you a friend of Lady Baynes?"

"No," she sang, angling her body towards Olivia. "Lord Dryden."

She felt her jaw drop open. The woman's words were so simple, so innocent. But, an intent glittered in those twinkling eyes. Ice filled her veins. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. The fears she pushed away came storming back.

Philip, indeed, found himself another. This woman's lips upturned into a triumphant smirk.

"Yes, I am a particular friend of Lord Dryden. My name is Kassandra Leitner."

"Austrian?" That explained why she looked like she had just hiked from the Alps. "Whyever are you in London?"

"You know why."

"Yes, I think I do, Miss Leitner."

"I will say this quickly," Miss Leitner began. Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Philip has always been mine."

A pair of young ladies eyed them askance, waiting patiently to enter the milliner. Olivia shuffled away from Miss Leitner. "Forgive me."

The pale lady sniffed, announcing to her friend in a loud voice. "Papa always said it was a shame when we ended slavery."

"If you will excuse me, Miss Leitner," she bit out. Olivia spun on her heel, escaping from the scene. For a moment, she forgot all about that vile Austrian woman. Her mind went to the off-handed comment of complete strangers. Upon her first introduction with Lady Linville, the dowager remarked upon her colouring. Olivia had long believed her golden-brown skin to be a result of the persistent summer sun. She had long held the belief her errant parents had been English, of the lower-class most likely.

She tugged on her shawl to cover more of her skin. Abysinnian, the dowager claimed. If Olivia dared to believe such a fanciful tale, then how did she get to Bath?

Her feet led her away from Bond Street and to the front door of the Linville townhouse at Berkeley Square. She raised her hand to the knocker. The door lurched open, revealing their butler.