The Dowager Countess of Linville had never laughed so much in her entire life. But her son had never been quite so amusing. She clutched at her stomach with one hand, the other resting on the table to hold her body upright.
"Oh, Ellis," she cut off, another bout overtaking her. "You must be jesting!"
Ellis, to his credit, stood before his mother with a straight face. "I am not, Mother, I have a mind to marry." He should have known just how his mother might react. Most of the ton would delve into unmitigated laughter at the prospect of the eligible Earl of Linville finally on the marriage market.
The serious edge to his tone killed all her amusement. "Who?" She wondered, face clearing of mirth.
He raised his shoulders, palms open-faced. "I do not know."
"So, you have thrown over all of your mistresses?"
"Yes."
Amelia straightened her posture, black eyes intent upon him. "You will subject yourself to the marriage market then? Throw yourself at the mercy of tittering debutantes and their scheming mothers?"
"I thought all mothers craved grandchildren."
"I know the confines of both my sex and my class, Ellis. We are expected breed and rush young relations into matrimony to birth more sons. I did my duty as best I could though the process was not one I relished." A shiver overrun her body. "Pregnancy is difficult. It is not sunshine and roses and despite our scientific age, there are many women who die in childbirth. I am loathe to encourage any young woman to that end." She levelled a warm look on her son. "I have dearly loved you. But motherhood is not for everyone."
"Yes, I have friends from school who lost their wives in such a fashion. Ones barely out of the schoolroom and married only nigh a year."
"That does not even countenance the orphans and unwanted babes left at churches or to die in the streets." Amelia approached her son and rested a hand on his arm. "Do not marry to please me. Marry to please yourself. I will not be around forever. Your wife will be. God willing."
He arched a brow. "You are a peculiar countess, Mother."
"It is droll to be like everyone else." The grandfather clock struck two and his mother adjusted her turban. "Do think on what I have said, but I have an appointment with my dear Salomon." She swept out, her scent floating in the air behind her.
The idea that some women may eschew motherhood had not once occurred to him. He, of course, went to great lengths to protect against pregnancy with his mistresses as bastards always tangled the affairs of nobility. He did not know that many women even had the conscious choice. He had seen many haggard mothers with broods of children, sometimes in double digits. They all dressed in rags and the husband continued to fill her with more children. This cycle even killed some women. There were those who took steps to educate women, but the practice was met with vehement anger. Childbearing was the sole duty of a wife.
If he was not going to marry to simply sire a child, then for what did one marry? Wealth. Property. Companionship in old age. Love? Ellis chuckled in the empty library.
Love. What a thought! Love did not do many favours for those of his acquaintance, save the Baynes. They seemed to be the paragon of a marriage based purely on love. But Cat's large dowry did not harm the proceedings.
He considered the current heir to his earldom, a sickly cousin with a battle-axe of a mother who acted as if she would never die. The late earl may already be rolling in his grave considering the thoughts of his son.
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.
◊
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.
"Good afternoon, Miss Fairfax," he greeted.
"Hello, Mr. Brookings. I am here to call upon Lady Linville, is she present?"
"She has just sat down to tea with a friend. Do come in, Miss Fairfax. She has instructed me to always accept you if you call."
She smiled in a way she hoped conveyed her delight. Brookings gestured for her to follow him down the familiar pathway to the sitting room. Lady Linville entered some seconds later, looking piqued.
"Olivia, what a wonderful surprise! Oh my, you look so white, what is the problem?"
The governess shook her head. "It is nothing...I was out and ran into someone. How do you do, Lady Linville?"
"I am well," the dowager replied with a hesitance most unlike her. She summoned a brief smile. "A dear friend of mine is in trouble and I am trying my best to untangle the knots." Amelia looked Miss Fairfax over—her clenched fists, her rigid back, the beads of sweat pooling on her neck and forehead. "I think we both need something a bit more spirited then tea. What do you say, Miss Fairfax? Shall you eschew convention with me?"
"I can think of nothing better." Olivia rose with the dowager, who led the way to her sideboard. She had spent a few afternoons in a similar fashion, enjoying Lady Linville's wild tales and fine wine.
After downing a glass, Olivia found words. "I ran into an Austrian woman."
Amelia shook her head. "No words, my dear Miss Fairfax. Now is not the time."
So, they drank in silence as the sun dipped below the horizon. Olivia watched the dowager's face, brow furrowed as she stared into her glass. She listened to the ticking of the clock, willing its rhythmic sound to soothe both their troubles.
Lord Linville returned home at twilight to a house lacking its usual exuberance. He detected no sign of either his mother or her frequent guests—Miss Fairfax, Lady Baynes, among others. Mr. Brookings admitted to him in a voice laced with only the slightest disapproval that the dowager and her guest had been drinking since the afternoon.
"Guest?"
"Miss Olivia Fairfax."
"Blimey," muttered the earl, shoving his hat and cane at Mr. Brookings. "Let me gaze upon the damage."
"They had dissolved into heaps of giggles last I went in to deliver a third bottle of wine." He explained with a decorous sniff.
"A third?" repeated Ellis, jaw dropping. "But it is not even five yet!" He smothered the grin that threated to upturn his lips. Olivia and Mama foxed before the sun even set? Ladies obviously needed clubs of their own.
"I know, my lord. However, Miss Fairfax arrived earlier quite upset and..." Here, the butler trailed up, casting the earl a meaningful glance.
He sighed. "I know how Mama is." Raking a hand through his hair, he added, "Do send up for some sustenance. I imagine they'll need it."
Ellis drew in a slow breath, bracing himself to the deafening noise of the sitting room. He strode the short distance to the sitting room. Leaning towards the door, he listened. There was not one sound of laughter. Instead, he heard...crying? Ellis fumbled with the doorknob, fingers sweaty and slipping.
What greeted him inside was a shock. Bottles collecting on the table. Olivia sprawled out on the floor, empty glass gripped in her hands, ugly sobs dropping from her mouth. Mama sat in an armchair, chin resting in her hand, observing the governess with a sympathetic look.
"Mama!" Ellis yelped, eyeing the sobbing Olivia. "What did you do to her?!" Big, sloppy tears ran down her red cheeks, one of many clues of her drunkenness.
The dowager sputtered, "How d-dare you! I have done nothing to her!" Amelia narrowed her eyes at her son. "You act as if I am a bad influence."
"Do not be cross with Lady Linville. She has been most kind to me today." Olivia insisted, dabbing at her cheeks with a damp handkerchief.
Ellis dug in his coat pocket for another, handing it off to her with a weary sigh. "Have you eaten, Miss Fairfax?"
"Back to formalities, are we, Ellis?" She asked in a watery voice, moments before blowing her nose into his embroidered initials.
He could not help but sigh again. "Have either of you eaten today?"
"We had some biscuits when we took tea," Amelia replied, lips curving into a grin that gave Ellis pause. Olivia tittered, waving around Ellis' handkerchief.
"We had wine in tea cups, you mean," she corrected.
"Mama!!"
"Do not look at me like that! Oh, calm yourself, dear boy! You are absolutely ruining the effects of the wine!"
The earl shot back a defiant gasp, but changed the subject. "Are you alright, Miss Fairfax?" He chose not to ask about her wails about the blighted Austrian accented with colourful words in French.
"I am right as rain," she assured him. Olivia shut her eyes and braced her hands on the carpet. "I shall try to stand now."
"May I assist you?"
"Absolutely."
With a few stumbles and missteps punctured by goading from the dowager, Ellis managed to maneuver Olivia upright. She gifted him a sloppy grin.
"Capital!" But her grip did not lessen on his arm. "Just give me a moment, please."
He cleared his throat and answered in a small voice, "Of course."
Lady Linville leaned back in the arm chair, folding her arms across her chest. "I do believe Olivia is in not fit state to return home." Dark eyes flitted to the sneer marring her son's face and she just smiled. "Are you expected at home?"
Olivia's reply came heavy with loneliness, "No one is expecting me at home." She rested her forehead against the earl's shoulder. "I accept your offer if it is not too much trouble, Lady Linville."
"How wonderful!" Amelia declared, hopping to her feet. She wobbled, her face tinging with a hint of green. "I forgot myself," she despaired. "I am not quite so young these days."
Ellis led Olivia to the settee. "I will send a note to Hannah." Mr. Brookings stepped through the open door with a tray. "Just in time, Brookings. They are in dire need."
Miss Fairfax wiped the last vestiges of her meltdown from her face. "It looks delectable. Thank you, Brookings."
"It is no matter, Miss Fairfax."
Ellis left with the butler after he delivered the tray, explaining to him about their sudden guest. He returned to the sitting room in less than ten minutes and the two women had eaten their way through most of the food.
The earl pinched the bridge of his nose. "You two are going to be sick."
"You worry too much," Amelia shot back, mouth full, the paragon of an elegant dowager.
Miss Fairfax grunted in agreement, still too genteel to speak with her mouth full. Ellis noticed Mama had not influenced her to that degree...yet.
Still, he had a difficult time hiding the warm smile that grew as he watched the dowager and the governess hunched over plates of sausages, bread and cheese, still drunk with wine. They looked the picture of some cautionary tale of the dangers of class mixing.
"What are you snickering about, my lord?" inquired Olivia archly, reaching to stab her fork into the last sausage.
"Just thinking what a pretty picture the pair of you make."
"Let us just ignore him, Olivia dear. He is probably laughing at our expense."
Olivia squared her shoulders, jutting her chin into the air. "I, for one, cannot think of a reason why."
"Oh yes, no reason at all," quipped Ellis. "Allow me to check on the guest room." His smile grew as he turned away from the two women. At first, he worried over Mama meeting Olivia, but they became fast friends. A thought came to him, as it often did when Olivia visited, that he absolutely could get used to this.
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I have made a lot of progress on this after many months of writer's block. I have edited earlier chapters as well, so I plan on updating old chapters and such soon.