by Megan Bryce
“I’m certain you will.”
“I would like to know why you changed your mind, though. You seemed quite put out with me when I originally asked.”
“You surprised me, Olivia. It was like having a dog come up and ask for its dinner. Wholly unsuspected.”
Olivia turned to stare at him. “Are you comparing me to a dog, sir? A talking dog? Surely it could not have been as unbelievable as that.”
Nathaniel grimaced. “That wasn’t what I meant. Of course I was not comparing you to a dog.”
“It sounded like you were.”
“I was not expecting a gently bred lady to proposition me. I was expecting you to talk about your stars, or since you wanted to be private, I was expecting you to try and compromise yourself.”
Olivia nodded. “I see. You expected a bark and instead found I could speak. Do the ladies often try and compromise themselves with you?”
“Not often, no.”
“You seem to have a low regard for my sex, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Or a very high regard for dogs.”
“I wonder, sir, why you are not married. It has left me quite baffled.”
He bent his head and laughed. His shoulders shook as he quietly gave in to the inevitable. Olivia tried very hard to keep her lips pursed.
“I apologize, Olivia. My charm has deserted me, it seems. If my mother knew I had just compared a lady to a dog, I’m sure she would disown me completely.”
“Which I’m sure you would deserve.”
“I would indeed. How may I make this up to you?”
Olivia patted his arm. “Let us simply forgive and forget. I believe the situation we find ourselves in will lend itself to the occasional social blunder.”
“Thank you, my dear. But perhaps a rest in this gazebo will show I am not completely without manners.”
“Thank you, Nathaniel. It is getting a bit warm. I’ve always thought gazebos so nice to cool down in.”
Nathaniel grinned, pulling her into his arms as soon as they entered. “I don’t think you’ll do much cooling down in this one.”
Her surprised look congratulated him as he slowly bent his head and touched his lips to hers. He gently flicked her upper lip with his tongue, expertly guiding it in at her gasp. His tongue flicked hers playfully.
Olivia grasped his lapels, breathing faster, daringly touching her tongue to his.
“Oh, Nathaniel. That is pleasant.”
He traced the back of her corset, sliding his fingers under her arms, tempting himself. She murmured something and stepped closer, crushing her chest against his. Nathaniel traced the rise of her breast and groaned.
Olivia’s maid called out and he pushed her away quickly. Her chest heaved as she tried to gulp down air.
She said, “So, this is the fascination with gazebos.”
“Yes, but we may be seen at any moment by someone other than your maid.”
“I think that is part of the fascination.”
He smiled as they exited and found her maid waiting, pointedly looking at the trees.
Nathaniel said, “Well, my dear. I believe you requested an escort to the opera. Will you join me?”
She wrinkled her nose, then squared her shoulders. “I did want the full experience and a night at the opera does seem de rigueur for courting couples. Thank you, Nathaniel, that will be…wonderful.”
Nathaniel had lost his mind. Or rather, he kept losing it whenever he went near Olivia Blakesley. He had meant to talk her out of getting seduced, not talk himself into it. But here he was, courting her, wooing her.
Taking her to the opera!
The last time he’d let his pants do the talking for him, he’d been eighteen and had come home with a black eye. If he continued with this mad scheme, he’d be coming home with a bullet in his gut from one of her brothers-in-law.
Madness. She was a gently-bred woman. An oddly-reared, stubborn, passionate, intelligent woman.
And he couldn’t help but feel that if he refused her, she would find some other man. Another man who might hurt her or her family.
He shook his head in disgust. He was grasping for straws here, any excuse that would let him do what he wanted.
Because he wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d wanted a woman in a very long time.
He had not felt so excited to be alive since his father had died. She shocked him, amused him, aroused him.
He wouldn’t hurt her, as some other men might. He would give her what she wanted; an experience to last a lifetime. No one would know, no one would be hurt. He could go ahead with his conscience clear.
And he would gag the voice in his head that was telling him that this would be the final nail in her spinster’s coffin.
Mary arrived later that evening to join them for dinner and stole up to Olivia’s bedroom to hear all the juicy details one couldn’t tell one’s mother. Since there were far too many juicy details one couldn’t tell one’s sister as well, Olivia glossed over her morning outing and went straight to the next planned encounter.
“You want to go to the opera?” Mary looked at her oddly. “Since when?”
“Since a handsome man asked me to attend with him.”
“Ah, of course. I should have expected that. Well, I’ll certainly join you, and Rufus, too. He loves the music.” Mary looked at Olivia’s pained face and laughed. “You did know there was singing involved, didn’t you?”
“I suspected. Is it awful?”
“It’s nothing like Prudence and her screeching, if that’s what you’re asking. You should ask Rufus to explain it before you go. I’ve actually started to enjoy it.”
“Poor Rufus, to be married into our unmusical family.”
“Mmm. Perhaps I should warn your Mr. Jenkins.”
“Perhaps I should bop you over the head with my telescope.”
Mary tsked at her. “So violent. Never fear, I won’t say a word to him about that. What will you be wearing? Mama says she almost got you to the dressmakers this week, but lost you to a bookseller on the way.”
“I told her before we went that I didn’t need any new dresses.”
Mary looked down at Olivia’s gray bombazine and raised an eyebrow. “Gray is not your color, Livvy. It makes you look deathly. I think you should take Mama up on the offer and get a nice spring yellow. You’d look lovely.”
Olivia made a face and gagged. “Yellow? Be serious, Mary. I am nearly eight and twenty. No spinster should wear bright yellow. It would just be sad.”
Mary looked at her crossly. “You are not a spinster, Olivia Blakesley. I hate when you say so.”
Olivia sighed. “I am. And what’s more I don’t mind. I don’t mind gray bombazine, either. I need never worry that I’ll stain it.”
“That’s because it’s ugly and no one would care if you burnt it. And I doubt Mr. Jenkins thinks you a spinster.”
“Mr. Jenkins is not exactly in the first flush of youth either.”
Mary laughed. “I don’t think you can say that about men, Livvy. He is more mature.”
Olivia agreed. He certainly was. And she got the distinct impression he liked her ugly dresses. He certainly talked encouragingly enough about getting her out of them.
She smiled as she followed Mary down to dinner. Even despite the looming threat of the opera, she could not wait until she could see Nathaniel again. He had already exceeded her greatest expectations.
She would just have to remember not to mention any more activities that she did not want to participate in. He was entirely too good a listener.
Megan BryceTo Catch A Spinster
Five
The opera house was filled to the rafters with perfumed ladies and foppish men. Even with her blind fashion eye, Olivia could tell that here was where the ton fawned themselves. Striped pantaloons, cherry red lips, and powdered wigs. The women were even worse. One woman’s hat looked as if it was about to fly away.
Mary looked at her face and laughed. “Regretting the bombazine no
w?”
“No. I was thinking it an improvement over most of the costumes here.”
Nathaniel bent to whisper in Olivia’s ear. “Have you never been to the opera, Olivia? I should have warned you.”
“And I should have expected something like this. I knew there was a reason I’d never come before.”
“Well, I hope the music is to your liking.”
She kept a purposefully hopeful expression on her face. “They can’t come just for the fashion, can they? I expect to be dazzled by beautiful singing and an emotional story.”
Nathaniel laughed. “Is that a quote from the Times? If not, I believe your interests lie in the wrong field. You should become a critic. Do you speak German, then?”
Olivia frowned at him. “German?”
“This opera is in German.”
“What, the singing? All of it?” She turned to Rufus. “You forgot to mention that.”
He folded his pamphlet, laughing at her. “I thought you would guess by the title.”
“I thought that was a gimmick. You told me it was beautiful and emotional; how was I to guess it was in German?”
Nathaniel pulled her away gently. “Come, my dear. Let’s find our seats, shall we?”
“Do you come much, Nathaniel?”
“I confess, no.”
Olivia followed him, secretly pleased that he did not regularly attend. And even more pleased that he had gone to the effort to take her. She smiled pleasantly at him. She would try to enjoy this experience knowing she wasn’t likely to be subjected to it again.
Despite her sister’s assurance, she could not imagine a beautiful melody, only torturous screeching. Thankfully, her mother had wisely chosen other accomplishments for her daughters to exhibit. One’s ears were blissfully left alone by painting.
The four of them sat and Olivia leaned toward Mary and whispered, “How long is this supposed to last?”
Mary spoke behind her fan. “Three hours.”
Olivia stared at her incredulously. “Of singing? Nothing but singing? In German?”
“There’s an intermission where you can walk around and look at everyone’s pretty dresses.”
Olivia glared at her. No wonder she had never come to the opera before. Music and fashion, her two most favorite subjects.
Less than half an hour after the curtain rose, she glanced at Rufus. He sat forward in his chair, listening in rapture to the music. She wished she could hear what he so obviously enjoyed, but she hadn’t a musical bone in her body. The only one of her sisters who could sing at all decently was Eugenia, and that was only through hours and hours of tortuous practice.
Give her the beautifully silent stars any day.
Olivia peeked at Nathaniel, half afraid he was in bliss himself. Though why she should care was beyond her. He wasn’t really courting her. She wouldn’t have to spend years accompanying him to the opera if he did enjoy it so.
Nonetheless, she let out a sigh of relief at his carefully neutral face.
He glanced at her and Olivia couldn’t help but feel that they shared a moment of complete understanding and togetherness. She felt a twinge of regret that it could not last, but then shook herself. She would not poison this experience. Even if this had been a true courtship, it would end anyhow. She had enough married sisters to know that the thrill would fade. She would simply enjoy it while it lasted.
She was startled when Nathaniel’s hand found hers in the darkness. His thumb began to draw lazy patterns on her glove and she suppressed a shiver. She glanced at him but found he was suddenly quite fascinated with the show.
All of a sudden she was finding it quite exciting as well.
The beating of her heart drowned out all other sound as he continued to fondle her suddenly sensitive fingers. Her breath came faster and her stomach flipped and flopped. She fanned herself vigorously; the room had become inexplicably warm. She noticed a slight smirk on Nathaniel’s face; the man needed a taste of his own medicine.
She began to fondle his fingers– stroking the long lengths, encircling the thickness. His breath hitched and she feared there was a little smirk on her face now. She glanced at him and met his eyes. They were bright and shining and he smiled a little at her. His own fingers once again sought to take control of the situation and she choked back her laugh as they fought for fondling dominance.
The longer she and Nathaniel courted the more she thought how well suited they were together. He was quite the most wonderful gentleman she’d ever gotten to know. They had the same interests, the same non-interests, and he made even the most head-pounding evening fly by. Every once in a while she thought it was a shame this was not a real courtship. Would they suit for real?
Of course, it wouldn’t be very fair to him if she started thinking and acting like this was a real courtship. They had a deal and marriage wasn’t part of it. She had propositioned him, so it wasn’t likely he still thought her a proper young lady fit for a gentleman.
Intermission came quickly enough. Nathaniel’s hand fiddling had kept her quite occupied, but she still begged Mary to leave early when they visited the lady’s withdrawing room. Hand fiddling, while quite exhilarating, could not silence the interminable screeching.
“No. You asked us to accompany you, and Rufus has been so excited to come. We can’t leave halfway through.”
“I don’t understand how he can be so passionate about it.”
“None of us can understand what you find so all-consuming about the stars, yet we let you get on with it.”
Olivia could think of quite a few instances where her family had not left her alone in peace to study her stars. Yet, she knew that Rufus felt quite passionate about music and she wouldn’t want to deny him the pleasure. No matter how much it made her want to yell.
Mary said, “Besides, aren’t you enjoying sitting so close to your Mr. Jenkins?”
“I am. But he doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself so much either.”
“At least you have that in common. You won’t have to attend with him in the future if neither of you enjoys it. Rufus says Mr. Jenkins prefers the country; you two can squirrel away to the countryside and be happy forevermore.”
“The stars are clearer in the country. Town is all about fashion and gossip. I dare say this will be my last season here.”
Mary grinned at her, happy. “I dare say it will be, too.”
Olivia shook her head. “Even if nothing comes of Mr. Jenkins. I am about ready for spinster-hood.”
Mary glared at her. “I will be ever so grateful when I no longer have to hear you call yourself a spinster. I am quite tired of it.”
They left the lady’s room and found themselves in quite a crush. They wound their way through to the gentlemen and Olivia could hear whispers and laughter. It was mostly gossip about fashion, but then she heard “…gray bombazine…” and realized it was she they were laughing about.
She smiled at such foolishness. She really did not understand what the fuss was about. She had dressed appropriately for the opera, if not fashionably.
“…Jenkins doing with her?”
“…do much better…”
“…joke? Not like him…”
And she stopped smiling. Would his reputation suffer because of his supposed interest in her? At least no one could believe that Nathaniel was really courting her. Why would they? He was a solid gentleman with a solid fortune, he could have any woman he wished. He wouldn’t choose to court a set-in-her-ways old maid. Oh, if they only knew the real reason he was here with her.
It was good he was such an honorable man. He would never tell anyone of their arrangement, that much she was sure of. When their arrangement came to an end, no one would think anything but that he had come to his senses and stopped pursuing such an unsuitable match.
She had benefited extraordinarily from his attention. She had experienced walking the green, flirtatious dancing, attending the opera, and been the object of a man’s studied attention. It was getting
hard for her to pretend it wasn’t for real, and it seemed it was getting hard for others to ignore his attention as well. She hadn’t meant to make anyone believe they had an attachment, least of all herself. She had simply wanted to know what it felt like to be wanted. Now she knew.
She also knew it was time to end the public courtship. She did not want his reputation to suffer from their association. She liked him far too well to cause him any harm.
At last the opera ended and they escaped. Nathaniel kept her close, ostensibly to guide her through the masses of people.
He said, “That was an experience I won’t be quick to forget.”
“Nor I. Thank you for suffering through it for me.”
“Of course, Olivia. I did enjoy parts of it, though I hope we won’t have to again for quite some time.”
She shook her head. “Once was more than enough for me. But thank you, Nathaniel. This has been a wonderful courtship.”
“Do you consider yourself wooed and won, then?”
She laughed, squeezing his arm.
“I do, indeed.” She paused, looking away. “But I wonder when the next part will come.”
“I admit I’ve been hesitating.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been hoping you would change your mind.”
She scowled at him. “I won’t.”
“And also because once a couple unites, it changes their relationship. Sweet kisses and passionate embraces are no longer enough, the act itself becomes all important. It is very hard to go back to what one was before… Are you sure you want to continue, Olivia?”
As they stepped outside, the cool air made her shiver. She took a deep breath.
“Yes. That was what we agreed to, Nathaniel. I want to know. I want to know why the act becomes so important. I want to know why passion grips men’s souls and makes women go all aflutter.” She looked up at him and whispered. “Please show me.”
He stared in silence at the line of carriages, then chuckled. “Will you be watching the stars tonight?”
Olivia glanced at the foggy sky, then smiled at him. “I expect not for long.”