Page 70 of Saving a Scoundrel
Lucius stared down into her green eyes, so like his own. They had been two peas in a pod, playing together and watching out for each other growing up. She always could see right to the heart of him. Charlotte had somehow shed her need to please their parents when she had chosen her path to happiness last year. “How did you do it? How did you shut off the voice?”
She shrugged. “I still struggle with it. I still worry about doing everything perfectly, worry if I am worthy of this life I’ve built with Daniel. But being loved by someone who sees the real you, flaws and all certainly helps to quiet the insecurities.”
Chapter Forty
“I’m so happyto see you!” Ellie gave Olivia a tight hug.
“And I you. You look beautiful. I’ve never seen you dressed so fashionably.”
Ellie pulled back and glanced down at the spring-green day dress she had on. It was one of many that she loved. The sleeves puffed to the elbow, and white lace trimmed the sleeve edges and the neckline. The matching bonnet had silk roses tucked artfully at the crown and a pretty pink ribbon tied under her chin.
“Lady Dearborn insisted on the new wardrobe, and I am certainly not going to let it go to waste even if my father does frown at me every morning when I walk into the breakfast room.”
Olivia laughed. “Don’t feel guilty. You look lovely. Now tell me all about what you did this spring. Did you get to dance until your feet ached?”
Ellie wrapped her arm around Olivia’s waist. Was it her imagination, or did Olivia feel thinner? She carefully looked over her friend. Olivia smiled, trying to look cheerful, but her bonnet and dress in black only highlighted her sallow complexion and the dark circles under her eyes. “There is plenty of time to talk about London. What is bothering you? Don’t bother lying to me. I can see that you are worried.”
Olivia sighed. “Here, let’s walk. The truth is that I have had a letter from my solicitor, and he has finally been able to locate Henry’s heir. Maxwell Drake is in Italy. Mr. Knightsbridge has sent him a letter to inform him of Henry’s death and the inheritance, but it may take months to get to him and months to hear back. Meanwhile, I am fretting about my place in the world. Henry has provided for me separate from the estate. Do I take my nest egg and start somewhere new? I have only ever lived at Belhaven Hall.”
Ellie sympathized with her friend’s position. Olivia grew up at Belhaven Hall; her father had been the land steward for Henry’s father. And then she had been mistress of Belhaven for the last five years. It was her home. “I’m sorry that this has caused you so much worry when you already are in mourning. Have you ever met Mr. Drake?”
Olivia’s expression tightened. She nodded. “Yes, he is a cousin of Henry’s. His father was a diplomat, so he often spent his breaks from school at Belhaven with Henry’s family.”
They walked along the dusty lane toward the field that held animal enclosures. The sound of sheep bleating punctuated the air. “I think you must try to put it out of your mind for now. It’s no use worrying until there is a reason to. Mr. Drake is living on the continent, correct? Perhaps then he will not be interested in Belhaven at all, and he will leave it to you to run. He can just enjoy the income and go sailing away.” Ellie patted her friend’s arm.
Olivia looked cheered. She nodded. “Yes, you are right. I will enjoy my time at Belhaven for now. And deal with Mr. Drake whenever he decides to show up.”
*
Two hours later,Lucius walked through town with Charlotte, Daniel, and Josie. The little girl gripped his hand on one side and her father’s hand on the other. Every few feet, he and Daniel swung her off her feet. Her childish giggle rang out each time. They were heading to the center of town, where the green was filled with people milling around food and craft vendors of all types. The smell of meat pasty vendors and sausage vendors permeated the air. They passed candlemakers, glass artisans, basket weavers, and then Josie spotted the puppet theater at the end of the row of booths.
“Can we go see the puppets?Please?”
Charlotte smiled at Josie. “Of course, darling. Lead the way.” She laughed as Josie raced away. “We’ll be at the puppets,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried after the girl.
“Go on with your family. I am going to look around for something delicious to eat,” Lucius said to Daniel. After his brother-in-law strolled away, Lucius strode through the booths heading for the booth Mr. Spencer set up each year to sell the jellies he made from fruits and veggies he grew in his garden.
He approached Spencer’s booth. Mr. Spencer was alone behind the display of small jars. “Good afternoon, Mr. Spencer.”
The vicar’s forehead wrinkled. “Good afternoon, Mr. Grisham. I did not realize you were in town.”
“I have something very important that requires my attention here in Marbury. Actually, several important things.” The vicar’s gaze narrowed, and Lucius swallowed hard. “Sir, I would like to request an hour of your time to discuss a matter of great importance.” He heard himself repeating his words, but that disapproving stare from the vicar made him feel like he was ten years old again and caught drinking from the baptismal font. “What I mean, sir, is that I wish to discuss your daughter’s future with me, I mean.” His usual grace with words had utterly deserted him.
Ellie’s father leaned back in his chair. He stared at him for a long moment. Then he sighed. “All right, Mr. Grisham, come see me tomorrow at eleven. Eleanor will be at Lady Rivenhall’s with her friends. You may come and state your case.”
Relief flooded through him. He hoped that by tomorrow he would have gained back his faculties for coherent speech. “Thank you, sir. Do you know where Ellie is? I was hoping to speak with her.”
“She and Lady Rivenhall walked down to the field where the animal stalls are. I believe they went to watch Mr. Evans wrangle the pigs.”
“The pigs?”
“Yes, Mr. Evans is a man of many talents.” A lady walked up to peruse the selection of jellies and the vicar turned to greet her with a wide smile. Lucius knew he had been dismissed. He turned down Finely Street and headed to the field just outside of town where the animal tents were set up each year.
Of course, the brawny Mr. Evans would be part of the pig wrangling contest. Lucius hadn’t believed it when Ellie had introduced the man the other day. Since when were curates broad-shouldered, handsome fellows? Weren’t they meant to be pale, thin, intellectual types, spending all their time in prayer? He kicked at a rock in the road with the toe of his boot and sent it spiraling down the dusty lane.
When he got to the field, it was easy to find the pigs because there was quite the crowd around a large fenced ring. Inside the ring were a half dozen pigs of various sizes. A man stood on the fence post yelling into the crowd. “A new record has been set, folks! Who will come up and join in the next round? Who thinks they can beat Mr. Evans’s record of three and half minutes?”
Lucius shook his head. He glanced through the crowd and spotted Ellie and Lady Rivenhall standing on the far side, speaking with a very muddy Mr. Evans. The man had no jacket on, just a pair of buckskins and his shirtsleeves. Ellie pulled a handkerchief from her neckline and reached up to wipe mud off Mr. Evans’s cheek. What the hell? He would kill Mr. Evans. No, he would take him by the shirt front and toss him back in with the pigs.
