Lady Olivia's Undoing

by Anne Gallagher

  “I will speak with William in all due course. And Penny has her family.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “You must get some sleep. Promise me you will try.”

  He walked to the secret panel and disappeared behind the wall.

  Once the door closed, Olivia lay on her pillows and tried to control the swirling thoughts clouding her usual clear thinking. John was leaving. Penny was suffering. The baby was dead. The Prince would have to be told about the heir. What would happen to her now?

  Ten years had passed since Fitzhugh’s death. For ten years Olivia had stalled the proceedings for the Caymore title to be returned to the Crown. For ten years she had lied about the solicitors searching for another heir. Convincing Prince George to give the title to William had bought her a little more time. That William would hold it in name only, in reserve for his heir, would allow her to live the life Fuzzy had wanted for her.

  But now the baby was dead. There was no heir. How long would it be before someone else came calling for the title? She would have to convince Penny to try to become pregnant again soon. The sooner the better. But how could she? Penny must be inconsolable. Olivia choked back a sob. John was right. The only thing she could do was love Penny as she always had done. The same way Penny helped her over Fitzhugh’s death. When Penny was ready, she and William would conceive another child, and the title would be secured.

  Olivia felt a cold chill slide over her. When Olivia had turned thirty, Fuzzy had a tryst with one of the upstairs maids. After she had the child, Fuzzy sent her off to America where the child would never know his father. The woman died shortly after arriving in Boston, and the boy was sent to boarding school. Fuzzy had always been generous and sent a monthly sum. When he graduated from university, he lived in a fine house, and had all the trappings of a well-lived life.

  As their childless marriage wore on, Fuzzy asked Olivia if she would raise him as her own. He would adopt the lad and make a provision in his estate. Olivia told him no. How would that make her look to the rest of Society – having his by-blow in the house? Fitzhugh never mentioned it again. And after all these years, she had worked too hard to let anyone take Caymore, and all that entailed, away from her. She would have to speak to the Prince.

  Olivia finally slept, just as the sun came up. Jennings, Olivia’s maid, did not come at her usual time of eight, and when Olivia woke at almost ten o’clock she pulled the bell ferociously.

  “Where have you been?” Olivia demanded when Jennings entered the room. “Why did you let me oversleep? I have many things to attend today, Jennings. What were you thinking?” Olivia opened various dresser drawers and pulled out stockings and undergarments.

  “Mr. Quiggins asked that you be allowed to rest as long as possible,” Olivia’s personal maid said quietly. Jennings opened the armoire and took out a pale blue morning gown. “Now, your tea and cake will be up directly. Should you like a bath? I think that would soothe your already overset nerves.”

  Olivia sat in her chair by the window, calmed by her faithful servant. Of course, John had already informed Jennings of the baby. However, Jennings would never let on. “Yes, Jennings. A bath would be most welcome.” She made a mental list of the cards she must send and appointments to make.

  “Very good, Your Grace.” Jennings walked into the water closet. Spigots turned and water splashed into the huge tub. Jennings returned to the bedroom just as a small knock sounded on the door. She answered it, took the tray from the girl, and gave her instructions. Jennings placed the tray on the table in front of Olivia.

  “Here now, sit and have a cup while the tub fills, Your Grace. I told Nella to have Cook cut up some cucumber for your eyes. If I do say so, I have never seen you look so dreadful of a morning.”

  Olivia stared at her companion of more than thirty years. “Do I look that hideous?”

  “Oh, yes. Worse than the morning after the Huntington party.”

  Olivia put her head in her hands. “Dear God, perhaps you should fill the tub with cucumber then.”

  “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you, Your Grace?”

  John was leaving and might never return. The baby was dead. Olivia felt tears creep into the corners of her eyes. “There was a letter come very early this morning. Penny’s baby was stillborn.”

  “Oh, no, Your Grace. I am so very sorry.”

  “Thank you, dearest. Yes, it is very sad. Penny and William are on their way home to Caymore.” She glanced at the clock. “I should think they will arrive by luncheon if the roads are clear.”

  “Well, then,” Jennings said. “Let us get you bathed and dressed. You need to be refreshed when Lady Penny arrives.”

  Chapter Three

  Downstairs in the yellow salon, Olivia fussed with the cards on the table, her thoughts centered on the conversation she would have with Prince George. He could not refuse to give Penny another chance to deliver a healthy heir. Olivia’s friendship with the King and Queen had waned since dear Fuzzy’s death, but she and the Prince had kept up a small friendship. He was always solicitous whenever he saw her. Olivia looked upon George as a wayward cousin of sorts. He may not be one of her favorite people, but he would do what was right for her family.

  John stepped into the room and closed the door. “What are you doing?”

  “Settling my appointments for the day.” Olivia looked at him and fresh tears erupted. He would be gone soon.

  “Olivia, please not again,” he whispered. He crossed the room and took her hand. “Please, dearest. I cannot bear to see you weep.”

  Olivia wiped a stray tear. “Forgive me, John, but there is nothing for it. I had no control over the baby, but I will not let you go willingly.”

  “I do not mean to go willingly, but I must go and there is nothing to be done about it.”

  “Yes, there is. I mean to speak to the Secretary this afternoon.”

  John’s eyes narrowed. “You cannot.”

  Olivia stared at him. His tone suggested there was more to his going than just an order from the Foreign Office. “What is it you are not telling me?”

  “Nothing. I have told you all that I know.”

  “Then why do you think he will not listen to me when I tell him I do not wish for you to go? He could send Greenleigh or any number of younger men.”

  John pivoted on his heel and walked to the door. His hand on the latch, he turned and faced her. “I do not wish for you to say anything to the Secretary, Olivia. I hate to leave you, more than you may ever know, but I am going, whether you sanction it or not and nothing you can do or say will stop me.” He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Olivia sank into her favorite chair. John, seemingly did not want to go to Spain, yet did not, would not refuse the mission. There must be more to this expedition than he let on. She would find out exactly what it was.

  A knock on the door prompted Olivia to call, “Yes?”

  A footman brought a letter on a silver salver.

  “Thank you, Gerald,” Olivia said. She looked at the script. Her cousin Constance. “Oh, she must be home from America,” Olivia mumbled as she broke the wax.

  She skimmed along the first two paragraphs… “Lovely time in America…dreadful voyage…miss London…renovations to Hargrave House…” And what was this? “I hate to impose, but with Hargrave House in such a state of disarray, is there any way you could put us up until Twelfth Night? Reginald refuses to spend the holidays in a hotel and I must agree. The girls are so looking forward to seeing Penny again, and I long for genteel company. The Americans were positively ghastly and I fear all the rosewater in the world cannot eradicate the vile taste in my mouth. Only your society will do, dear Olivia.”

  Just what Olivia needed on top of everything else – company. Oh, the girls were no bother, they were lovely, and would keep to their own schedules, and having been away from London for so long, they would do nothing more than mark time with their friends and shop. Perhaps they might even be good com
pany for Penny. Fresh faces and adventures to share. And Constance would not be a nuisance as long as she kept her histrionics at bay. Constance was a needy woman and desired a certain comfort level from those around her. When it was not forthcoming, she took to her bed for days.

  No, it was Reginald Olivia worried about. Olivia had never liked Reginald. Hard and unforgiving, even in his youth, she had rebuffed his advances. Surprisingly, he asked for her hand anyway and Olivia begged her father to refuse the match. Reginald married her cousin, Constance, instead. It was at their nuptials where she met Reginald’s uncle, Fitzhugh Leighton, the Duke of Caymore.

  Reginald accused Olivia of dallying with Fuzzy’s affections for his wealth, title, and position in Society. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Olivia’s uncle, the Duke of Marlborough, convinced her father to push her into the marriage. On the day of their nuptials, Fitzhugh Leighton was two-and-sixty. She, twenty.

  Unfortunately, right before she married Fuzzy, Reginald caught her in another man’s embrace – Henry Wade. And even though Reginald had never said a word about the encounter, Olivia felt as though he held that as a sordid secret between them.

  However, Olivia was no fool. As much as she had loved Henry back then, she had to abide by her family’s wishes, and Henry Wade, the second son of the Marquess of Dunbury, was certainly no match for a Churchill lady. Though her parents had reservations about the age difference between Fuzzy and her, they would definitely not welcome a match between Olivia and Henry. Fitzhugh Leighton was a powerful duke, kept company with the King, and cousin to the Duke of Devonshire. Henry had nothing.

  Olivia stared at the letter in her hand. She could tolerate Constance and the girls through the holidays, but she dreaded to think of Reginald in her house – creeping about.

  Olivia shuddered. She would dispense with Reginald when the time came. The most urgent matter consuming her belonged to the state of her house. Her former butler Summers could not be expected to wait on two families. The man was eighty years old. Olivia rose from the chair and pulled the bell. A footman opened the door.

  “Your Grace,” he said.

  “Andrew, good, I’m glad ‘tis you. I need to speak with you.” Olivia walked to the windows that overlooked the gardens. “As you may have been informed, Quiggins must away for a time and Summers is coming out of retirement. However, my cousin and her family will be arriving to stay through Twelfth Night. I am giving you full charge of their every care. I will speak to Quiggins, and once he is away, Summers will be your immediate supervisor.”

  Andrew nodded his head. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “For five shillings more a month.”

  Andrew smiled. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Andrew. You may go.” When he was at the door, Olivia said, “Do tell Quiggins to step inside.” There were so many things to do. John could not leave her. How was she to run her house? Undercover operative or not, John was an excellent butler.

  John stepped inside the room. “Your Grace?”

  Olivia hated that tone. He was angry with her. Well, she was angry with him for leaving her, leaving her with houseguests and company through Christmastide and not a decent butler in residence. How was she to manage?

  “Quiggins, I worry about the state of the manor once you’re gone to Spain. My cousin Constance and her family are arriving, and Summers is hardly capable of caring for such a large gathering, and although I have every faith Andrew will make a fine under-butler, he is still green. I thought to see if we could hire one on for a few months. And if not, through Twelfth Night, although, having one through January would be a blessing. What do you think? Could you enquire if there is a family of good standing away for the holiday and would like to furnish Caymore with a butler?”

  John nodded. “As you wish, Your Grace. Will there be anything else?”

  “Do not forget to inform the mews of William’s…”

  “They have already been informed, Your Grace.”

  “And the rooms. Fires need to be laid…”

  “That has already been taken care of, Your Grace.”

  “Well, Cook needs…”

  “I have already spoken to Cook. Upstairs is three, possibly five with the inclusion of Lord and Lady Olmstead. Downstairs is four-and-ten.”

  Olivia held out her hand to John in a moment of weakness. “What shall I say to Penny?” Under any other circumstances, she would never dare show affection to John, especially as a footman or parlour maid could walk in on them. But Olivia needed his strength. “I cannot imagine what she must be feeling. How am I to comfort her?”

  John took two steps into the room, but maintained his distance. “You will sit with her when she cries. You will listen to her ranting and hysteria. You will dry her eyes and hold her when she needs it.” John took another step forward. “Love her as you always have done.”

  “Yes, of course.” She gazed into his eyes. “I cannot bear it though. Penny looked so forward to being a mother. With Amanda and Richard’s baby a girl, Penny dreamed they would grow up together and perhaps marry someday.” Olivia smiled through her tears. “A young girl’s first wish for her child. Silly, I know, but I cannot help feeling sad about it as well. My own wish has died.” Olivia put her fingers to her eyes.

  John handed her his handkerchief. “Penny has been through a lot this past year. Who is to say the shock of her kidnapping did not have lasting ramifications? Or that William’s injuries from the war did not affect his seed in some manner? We cannot ever know why the baby died, but we must go on. We must, otherwise we will succumb to certain madness. It will be your job, Livvy to keep Penny from losing her will to endure.”

  “Yes, I know that. I just do not know if I will be able.” She handed him the damp handkerchief. How could she comfort Penny never having known what it was like to have a child growing inside of her?

  He took her fingers and brought them to his lips. “You will. You have the strength of ten men, my darling.” He took a step back. “I shall leave you now. I believe I may know of a butler we may hire.” He paused. “What are you about?”

  Olivia was always grateful their spats never lasted long. “I sent a footman with a note to Carlton House. I must inform the Prince about the baby and thought to do so in person. He will keep the Patent Committee from hounding my doorstep.”

  “Very well. I will try and return before William and Penny arrive.” Quiggins left the room. Olivia watched the door latch click into place.

  She had explained the gravity of the situation over the title to Quiggins several months before, although not about Fuzzy’s bastard son. She did not want that to change John’s view of her. And it might. How could she be involved with so much charity for orphans, but not raise her husband’s son? It was unthinkable. Her dear Fuzzy had never even met his own flesh and blood, and that was because of Olivia’s selfishness and jealousy. She had wanted her son to gain the title. Her son to have every luxury. But she had not been able to conceive. What would John think of her if he found she had kept a father from his only child?

  Olivia gazed at the portrait of Fitzhugh Leighton hanging above the fireplace. “I’m so sorry, Fuzzy,” she whispered. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  Chapter Four

  Olivia paced in the yellow salon. The clock chimed half past eleven. A knock on the door and then a footman appeared with a salver and three envelopes. Olivia walked over and picked them up. Foreign Secretary Richard Wellesley, Prince George, and Henry Wade, Marquess of Dunbury.

  “His Highness awaits a reply,” the footman said.

  “Thank you,” she said to the footman and walked to the escritoire. She broke the wax on the envelope from the Prince.

  Dearest Lady Olivia, how lovely to receive your note. I am away to Brighton this afternoon, but would welcome your company any time this morning. Ever Yours, G ~

  Olivia looked at the footman. “Tell His Highness to expect me directly.”

  The footman left the room. O
livia broke the wax on Richard Wellesley’s letter.

  Dear Lady Caymore. I would be delighted to meet with you, at your convenience. However, my schedule is full until half-past four o’clock this afternoon. Perhaps tomorrow morning would be acceptable. Wellesley.

  Olivia slid her finger under the wax on Henry’s note.

  I am ever at your disposal.

  Olivia smiled. She tucked both envelopes into her reticule. She would reply after she met with the Prince.

  In the carriage, on the way to Carlton House, Olivia rubbed her hands together. The day was cold and grey and looked as if it might snow. She gazed out at the street as the carriage slowed. Olivia caught sight of a man standing in front of the Bainbridge Hotel. She drew a sharp intake of breath. As the carriage clopped forward, she turned in her seat and stared at a man who bore a striking resemblance to a miniature portrait she kept in the salon. A picture of a much younger Fitzhugh Leighton. Olivia watched as long as she could and then sat back against the seat.

  She could only imagine it was all this sad news about Penny’s baby that brought Fuzzy’s likeness to surface. The heartbreak of not having any children of her own, Fuzzy’s indiscretion, and the baby’s death all formed a vicious irony that now led her to hallucinate. She rubbed a chill. Was this Fuzzy’s way of speaking to her from the grave? What was he trying to tell her? Was this apparition a reminder that her future remained uncertain? Olivia shrugged into her coat and pushed the thought of Fitzhugh aside.

  The carriage stopped and then shifted as the footmen descended. One opened the door, as the other set the step and then held out his hand to assist her from the equipage. Olivia stood in front of Carlton House. She took a breath and marched up the steps. The door opened silently and a liveried footman led her inside the grand entryway. A Privy Guard stepped up to her.

  “Lady Caymore, welcome to Carlton House.” He bowed. “His Highness is waiting.”

  Olivia nodded and followed the man to a private room. He opened the door and nodded. Olivia stepped into the room, where a young man sat behind a desk. He stood up.