by Abigail Agar
“Well, my lord, I am seeking a great number of preventions. At this time, I have been looking into cholera, typhoid and typhus,” he answered, rhythmically.
Nathaniel nodded, keeping his breath of relief unnoticeable by most of the men in the room. He had no desire for them all to read his thoughts as the doctor had. But hearing that the dreaded illness was, indeed, one of those being researched by the doctor, was quite a grace.
“Those sound like noble causes,” Nathaniel remarked.
“Indeed. I think we ought to share a toast to our esteemed friend, the one and only Doctor Fairweather!” announced Lord Kensington.
All the men raised their glasses and then drank heartily. Among them, it seemed that only Nathaniel was directly impacted by the knowledge of these efforts. He was the man who had been hoping for a time that would come when these illnesses were researched with interest and intellect. Doctor Fairweather seemed the perfect man for the job.
And with that, all the men went their separate ways. There was still much of the day left to be had and many of them had work to do. Typically, they enjoyed meeting in the evenings, but once each month, they would gather on a Friday as today and relax as they had done.
The club was a peaceful zone where they could be free of the concerns of the world. For many, it was a time to escape nagging wives, loud children, and the demands of the crown. But for Nathaniel, it was duty that bound him to this place. Duty and a sense of yearning to belong with these men.
“Much to do?” The Duke of Morningside asked, sidling up to Nathaniel.
“Oh, not a great deal. I must go into town and find a gift for my grandmother. Something charming for her birthday. I haven’t the foggiest idea what it is that I seek, but I am sure to find something.”
“Oh yes, I am sure you shall. She is a woman of good taste, but also of great gratitude,” the duke acknowledged.
“She is indeed.”
“Just be sure that if you need anything at all, you remember that I am ready and willing to assist you. I understand that you have had quite a lot of new responsibilities come to you in the last few months and, while your father did well to prepare you, it is quite different than actually taking them on,” the duke offered.
Nathaniel nodded, grateful for the offer. The duke, as the majority of the other men, had been a good friend to his father. Losing him had affected these men as well, who knew the late earl to be a kind, respectable man of good standing. It seemed that time would tell if Nathaniel could ever live up to the presence that his father had been among his friends.
In the meantime, Nathaniel would make every effort. But for now, his efforts lay elsewhere.
He put his hat upon his head and straightened his coattails. He had to look his best everywhere he went, as a representative of his family as well as the king. Leaving the club, he tried to consider what he might purchase for his grandmother. After all, she was a woman of great means. She had everything she might ever want or need.
But he would shop until he found something. Something that would be liked by an elderly dowager. Nathaniel would certainly have to rely on the shop assistants and that generally meant that he would be sold only the finest, most expensive items. But he did not mind so much on her behalf. After all, his grandmother had done a great deal for him.
Nathaniel exited the doors of the club and wandered into the streets of London, uncertain what he might find. The day was bright and clear and filled with a sense of promise. It almost felt as though he might find something not just for his grandmother, but also for himself.
Chapter 3
With her notebook tucked under her arm, Olivia allowed herself to gaze at the sights of the city around her. She hoped that inspiration might strike, despite that not being her primary purpose in the walk.
Going onto the streets of London and making her way towards the market was something she had always enjoyed. There was a freedom in the air, a peace about her. Olivia had always loved the city, even though it was a cruel place at times.
But it was her home and a constant source of inspiration when she allowed herself to be inspired. And that day she was feeling better than she had in a great long while, with the hope of many tales to come and the excitement of seeing her sisters so encouraging of her.
Olivia made her way into a confectioners first. It was a secret from her father, but a mission that Olivia was quite thrilled to undertake.
With just a few extra coins he had given her she was to purchase a small cake that the family could indulge in together that evening after dinner. A rare treat, to be sure, but one that she was entirely thankful for. Gemma would be ecstatic, and Louise would certainly not hesitate to show her gratitude for such an opportunity for indulgence.
Looking at the cakes, Olivia chose one that was small, one she might be able to afford, but it smelled heavenly.
“How much for that one?” she asked the shopkeeper.
Sensing the gaze of the young woman from Olivia’s head down to her aged shoes, it was clear that the shopkeeper didn’t expect her to get anything more than the small cake. Still, it was a relief that she had just over the amount necessary to purchase it.
When she left the bakery, Olivia sighed in confidence, not willing to let that shopkeeper, a woman who had already had to find work, break her down. After all, Olivia needed to search for a position, but she had not yet been brought to that point.
She did wonder, however, if working would afford her the luxuries of better garments. Not only for herself, but for her sisters as well. It was certain that she needed to begin a search for employment. Thinking about it, Olivia decided to spare a coin for the newsboy that she might go through the columns and find potential work.
From there she made her way to her primary destination. The sewing shop was a frequent place for Olivia to end up in. They could hardly afford new fabric and no one in their family was able to get anything new to wear.
But there were holes to mend and stitch and fix. There were buttons needing secured and, perhaps, if she was lucky, she might find a piece of ribbon that could be added to one of Gemma’s dresses.
“Olivia, my dear,” greeted Mrs. Hanson, the owner of the shop.
“Mrs. Hanson, how are you?”
“Very well, my dear. Now, what’ll it be today?”
Olivia looked around and wished she could take an abundance of items to help her sisters look like they belonged in society.
“I need a new needle, something a little smaller. And I need black, red, and white thread,” she told Mrs. Hanson.
“I can certainly get those for you. Will there be anything else?”
Olivia hesitated. “Might you have any…well-priced ribbon?”
It was a humiliating question to ask, one that reeked of charity. But Olivia knew Mrs. Hanson well enough that she felt it was all right enough to make such a request. After all, she was a frequent customer and, like many of Mrs. Hanson’s customers, she was far from wealthy.
“You have chosen the perfect day to come in, my dear. As it happens, I received a batch of ribbon today that was not the colour I desired. I am in a dispute with the factory because I was rather specific on this one.
“I have a client who demanded burgundy,” she continued conspiratorially. “They sent me a poppy red. Now they are telling me it was a custom colour just for me, that they added a hint of orange that they would not normally have done, and I have refused to pay them for it just as they have refused to accept it back. I am quite happy to give you a length at half the price.”
Olivia was astonished. This was indeed quite good fortune. In fact, it was unheard of.
Upon doing a few calculations, Olivia realised that she would be able to purchase enough to add to a dress for Gemma as well as one for Louise. It was ideal.
Mrs. Hanson measured and cut before giving Olivia her goods, which she put in her bag.
“Now, do take care that no one knows I gave you such a fine price. You are a very special customer
and I should not give such a discount to everyone,” Mrs. Hanson told her with a smile.
Olivia agreed and departed from the shop.
Truly, she felt inspired by this turn of good fortune. So inspired that she quickly made her way through the throngs of people and out of the way of the market centre to a small bench.
Pulling the notebook from where she had placed it in her bag, Olivia began to scribble notes for later.
She would write a fairytale about a length of ribbon found by a peasant that turned the peasant into a princess. The princess was so beautiful that princes and kings came from far off lands to try and charm her beauty.
But there was a great villain, a young woman born into royalty from another kingdom who learned the secret of the ribbon. So she took it from the princess and she was once more a peasant. But the prince of that land had already fallen in love with her and he married her anyway.
Yes, this was exactly the sort of story that her sisters would love. And when she sewed the ribbon to a dress for each of them, it might bring a little excitement into their own lives. It might bring a hint of magic to the difficulty of their situation.
At least, that was what Olivia hoped for. What would truly come to pass she couldn’t say. But she would make this effort. She would do something for her sisters, even if it was a small thing.
Olivia heard the tolling of the tower clock in the square and knew she still had two more shops to go to on her way home. She had spent more time enjoying her story than she ought to have and it was time for her to go.
She stood and grabbed her things, in a rush to get to the post office to drop a letter her father was sending. But just as Olivia turned the corner, she found herself colliding with a firm, tall object.
“Oof!” she exclaimed, bouncing backwards in the shock.
“Are you all right?” came a concerned voice.
Before she looked him in the eye, Olivia took in the shoes. Polished black leather. The shoes of a wealthy man. The trousers hemmed at the perfect length above them. Not too long or too short like most Londoners, wearing leftovers from other family members.
Her gaze trailed upwards, to the finely cut coattails and pearl buttons on his shirt. Yes, this was a man of standing.
But when her eyes reached his face, that was the moment that Olivia was truly caught off guard.
His eyes were a light grey and his hair the shade of sand peeking out from under the top hat he wore. Gentle freckles dotted his nose in a way that made him look youthful despite his rather masculine frame.
She had never seen such a man so handsome as this. Of all the men in the world for her to encounter in this way as a result of her clumsiness. But this man, standing before her was the last man she would wish to embarrass herself before.
“Miss?” he asked, prompting a response to his earlier question.
“Oh, yes. Do forgive me, my lord,” she answered, looking at the ground and giving a curtsey. She had no idea what sort of title this man held, but it was clear that he had one. She hoped that she had addressed him appropriately.
A gentle chuckle came from his beautiful lips. “There is nothing that needs to be forgiven. I simply fear that I might have hurt you. It is I who must apologise. I was not looking as I walked,” he remarked.
“Nor was I, my lord.”
“Well, that is a fine thing then. We must both be more careful in the future, Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for her answer.
“Digby, my lord. Olivia Digby,” she said, still keeping her eyes on the ground.
Olivia had never interacted with nobility before, but she was already quite surprised by the behaviour of this man. Men of society were rude and invested in their snobbery. But this man was kind and gentle, apologising to her as she had to him. This was a strange thing and she wished she could decipher his actions.
“It is very nice to meet you, Miss Digby. I am…” he paused for only the briefest of seconds. “Mr. Nathaniel Norton.”
Olivia looked up at him then, confusion twitching in her brow. But she quickly masked it. This man was clearly titled, and yet he had chosen to share with her his given name. Was this a game? What reason might he have for speaking so freely with her?
“I am very sorry to have caused you any delay, Mr. Norton,” she apologised yet again.
“You have done no such thing, Miss Digby. And it has been a delight to meet you. I thank you for not being angry with me for my clumsiness,” he said to her kindly.
He gave a slight bow and Olivia replied with a graceful curtsey. He departed and she felt foolish. A young woman of her age was not to be running around, writing fairytales and humiliating herself before noblemen. She was to be working, or finding a husband, or doing something of use.
As she made her way home, stopping at the final two places she needed to visit, Olivia continued to wonder about a great many things. Certainly there were her thoughts of work that consumed her. What could she do other than become a housekeeper?
Clever and intelligent though she was, Olivia had not the formal education required to become a governess. So even though that was her preferred position, it was not a possibility for her.
Indeed, she would have to seek a position as a housekeeper. Most likely she would find herself working at an inn or some other such, but if she were truly fortunate, she could find work in the home of a wealthy employer.
Perhaps even someone like Mr. Norton.
Olivia had been trying to keep her thoughts away from the man, but it was very difficult. After all, he was quite magnificent in every way.
He was handsome and kind, certainly not what she would have expected from someone in his station. He had been gracious with her, forgiving. Olivia had seen street urchins beaten by nobility for lesser offenses, and yet he chose instead to bestow her with the casual form of addressing him.
That was not the sort of thing that was ever to occur.
But Mr. Norton could easily consume the thoughts of any young woman. She didn’t know if it was merely his unexpected kindness or the way his eyes had held such depths that caught her so off guard.
And those freckles. On a woman, they were the sign of too much sun. But on a man, as rarely as she had seen them, they were exquisite.
She knew she would never see him again, but Nathaniel Norton would remain forever in Olivia’s mind.
Chapter 4
Leaning back in the chair for a moment, Nathaniel allowed himself an exhale of breath. The pen was weighty in his hand and it was difficult to write this letter to Miss Hawthorne.
Yes, Miss Hawthorne. The young woman he had been committed to from an early age. She would soon be eligible for the marriage that had been arranged by their parents all those years ago. She would have made a perfect match by all of society’s standards.
But Nathaniel didn’t love her. He couldn’t bring himself to see her as anything more than the woman he was expected to wed. Certainly, she was not what he would have sought for himself in a wife.
Guilt shrouded him. He knew that ending the engagement was a slap to his father’s memory. But to marry a woman he could not love? That would be dishonourable to Miss Hawthorne.
She was a beautiful woman with many attributes. And while none of them allured Nathaniel, he thought it unfair to prevent her from finding a husband who would appreciate who she was, the parts of her that would be easy for another man to care for.