TuesdayNights

by Linda Rae Sande

  Her breath caught as she considered what her life would be like as the wife of such a man. She would be a wife simply for show, candy on his arm at various social events and an occasional dance partner at balls; appearances were everything in the ton. Would he even try to get a child on her? A bit of panic took hold and a tooth caught her lower lip in an effort to stave off the trembling she was sure would start any moment.

  Aware of Olivia’s sudden discomfort and the reason why, Edward gave Michael a glance filled with annoyance. “As friends,” Edward added as quickly as he could. “We’ve known one another since our days at Eton.” Where we drank to excess and sowed our wild oats with fast women, he almost added in an effort to make himself crystal clear. He gave Michael a sideways glance that displayed a bit of derision.

  Olivia silently inhaled, not aware she’d been holding her breath. She smiled then, a wave of relief washing over her. Wasn’t it odd, she thought then, how I felt sad when I thought that my husband might be a molly? And Edward! Such a tall, handsome man. She originally thought him to be a dandy, given his extravagantly embroidered waistcoat and perfect hair.

  There was more than relief in the discovery that these two men were simply friends who shared a terrace. “And did you attend university together, too?” she asked, wanting to keep up her end of the conversation – and to avoid the awkward silence that might have descended just then. She hadn’t realized how her earlier conclusion had made her feel until she was able to get her breathing back under control.

  Michael gave her the plate of walnuts as Edward responded with a snort. Olivia noted Michael’s look of exasperation and gave him a smile. “We were roommates at Oxford, but otherwise, we hardly saw each other,” Michael explained as he took a seat next to her on the settee. Although he wasn’t sure how close to her he should sit, he was relieved when his thigh nearly touched hers and she didn’t readjust her position. And he was suddenly quite aware of the close fit of her bodice; the sight of the gentle swell of her breasts above the sweep of her neckline was more intoxicating than the brandy he’d already consumed. Rising moons, he remembered someone calling them. And he was suddenly remembering having held one in his right hand. His loins remembered, too, he realized as he felt them tighten.

  The mischievous grin on Edward’s face made Olivia glance at Michael. Rolling his eyes, more to hide the fact that he’d been staring at her bosom than to show his annoyance at Edward, Michael said, “Edward spent more time playing cards than he did attending classes. It was a wonder they saw fit to bestow a degree upon him.”

  Edward took umbrage at the comment and sat up straighter in the couch. “I believe you were the card player back then, old boy. I merely took more interest in off-campus pursuits.” As if he had just realized that what he’d said could be misconstrued by the lady, Edward leaned forward and added, “Like riding and fencing and ...”

  Edward was saved from having to continue the explanation when Jeffers entered the room and announced that dinner was served. The butler seemed pleasantly surprised at the sight of the Cunninghams sitting together on the settee as he nodded and left the room.

  Michael stood, and when he didn’t offer assistance to his wife, Edward stepped over and held out his hand. Not sure if she should take it, Olivia glanced in Michael’s direction. But his attention was on the sideboard where he deposited his empty glass, so she gave Edward a nod and smiled as she allowed him to help her to her feet. “Thank you, Mr. Seward,” she murmured.

  Realizing his mistake, Michael quickly joined her and offered his arm. “Are you going to dinner dressed like that?” he asked of his friend, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  Edward looked down at his attire. His near-white pantaloons were topped with a snowy white linen shirt and crisp cravat. The silver waistcoat, embroidered with metallic thread, was expensive but not ostentatious. And his tasseled Hessians were polished to a glossy shine. “I think I need a topcoat, if you must know,” be replied with a sigh. “At least you could have dressed for dinner. You smell like dust from your ride.”

  His face reddening in embarrassment, Michael pinched his lips together so that he would not say what first sprang to his mind. “You are right, of course.” Pausing at the library door, he allowed Olivia to precede him and then shrugged off his topcoat and unbuttoned his waistcoat in the hall as Edward led Olivia to the dining room. Jeffers was immediately by his side, taking the coats while a footman was dispatched to his rooms on the second floor to get a fresh topcoat and waistcoat. Jeffers had his full shirt sleeves brushed out and his boots shined just as the footman returned with the coats. “I cannot recall having redressed in the hall before,” Michael murmured as his butler buttoned the waistcoat.

  “I don’t recall there ever being a need to do so before today, sir,” Jeffers replied, giving his master a thorough look over before nodding that his appearance was acceptable. “I’ll draw a bath for you later, if you’d like.”

  “I’d like,” Michael agreed with a nod before heading for the dining room.

  When he entered the dining room, Edward thought he had somehow wandered into the wrong house. The room was certainly different than it had been at breakfast. The table was dressed, and complete place settings of chargers, silverware, and crystal were laid out in front of three chairs. The flames from a large candelabra lit the center of the table, their flickering light reflecting off the shiny surfaces and adding a dramatic flair to the table. Edward couldn’t remember a time during his tenure at the townhouse when dinner looked so formal.

  Despite the presence of a nearby footman, he pulled out a chair for Olivia. She thanked him as she sat down.

  “So, tell me, Mrs. Cunningham, however did you get a confirmed bachelor to the altar?” Edward whispered loudly before allowing a footman to assist him into a navy blue topcoat that seemed to have appeared from thin air. He took his seat, buttoning the coat as he did so.

  Olivia’s back stiffened. Confirmed bachelor? If that was really the case, then why did Michael have a special license? She regarded Edward for a moment before deciding how to reply. Truth, it seemed, would be best with the man. But adding a light touch to the explanation would be better than a bitter sounding tirade. “After an evening in Shipley, Mr. Cunningham returned to our family’s house Tuesday night ... three sheets to the wind, I believe the saying goes, ... and, in trying to find his way to his room,” Or, perhaps someone else’s, she thought, but didn’t say aloud, “He found mine instead.”

  Stunned at the unexpected frankness in her explanation, Edward lowered his head and allowed the anger at his friend to wash over him. He frowned, though, wondering how simply entering a woman’s room might be grounds for ruining her reputation. “I take it he did not just enter your room,” he half-asked, wondering if she would describe the scene the same way Michael had earlier that evening.

  Sighing, Olivia avoided the desire to rest her head in her hands, still trying to keep her response light-hearted. “Had I been awake and seen him enter, I assure you, I would have simply put on a dressing gown and escorted him to his room at the other end of the hall. However, he... undressed ... and proceeded to get into my bed. Which, of course, woke me.”

  Edward feigned surprise and gasped. “You ... screamed, I take it?”

  Olivia shrugged. “Not at first. But when he lay on my bed, called me ‘El’, and said ‘Please be mine’, I became a bit ... vocal,” she whispered, barely containing her sad and angry emotions at what had happened. She almost immediately regretted telling the story.

  Rolling his eyes, Edward could only imagine the poor woman’s plight. Does she already know of her sister’s relationship with Michael? he wondered. And if not, did she suspect that Michael might want her sister more than her? “Who found him with you?” he whispered hoarsely, not considering that the question was entirely inappropriate.

  Her face turning a bright pink, Olivia lowered her eyes. “My father. W
hich wouldn’t have been so bad, I suppose. We could have explained the situation, and I’m sure he would have understood. But ... several servants ...” She sighed audibly. “I was quite ruined without having done anything untoward,” she said quietly, not quite sure what else to say.

  Edward sat back hard against the chair and considered her tale. Not as salacious as how her older sister was ruined, Olivia’s ruination was still just as potentially scandalous. And Michael had apparently ruined Olivia at his sister’s suggestion.

  Intending to say something to assuage her, Edward found he couldn’t when Michael strode into the room, his waistcoat and topcoat replaced with formal dinner attire.

  “Please excuse the delay,” he said, not expecting anyone to reply.

  “Of course, Mr. Cunningham. Shall I call for the first course to be served?” Olivia wondered as she began her duties as hostess of the dinner.

  Michael and Edward exchanged a quick glance, surprised a girl from the country would know what to do in a formal dining room. “Please, do,” Michael answered with a nod, trying to keep the uncertainty from his voice as well as his reaction to just then noticing the formality of the dining room. He glanced about to take in the details, the differences in the room since he had taken luncheon there earlier. With all the candles lit and the table set, it looked like a completely different room.

  Olivia nodded and motioned to a nearby footman. It was as if a single wag of her finger controlled the entire household at that very moment. Waiters appeared with bowls of soup, a maid seemed to come from nowhere with carafes of two different wines, and coffee was poured into dainty china cups.

  “Mr. Seward, would you do us the honor of tasting the wine?” Olivia asked after she’d surveyed the table and determined that everything was in order.

  Michael gave his friend an amused glance, but Edward sat up straight and replied, “Of, course, my lady.” He swirled the white wine in the glass, examined the liquid in front of the light from the candelabra, sniffed it, and finally took a small sip. “Ah,” he said with a grin. “A thirteen Chardonnay, I believe. Very good,” he stated before taking a longer drink. “I was not aware we had this in the cellar,” he commented as he picked up a soup spoon and began his first course.

  Michael glanced at Olivia and cocked an eyebrow. When did she have time to order wine? he wondered. She met his gaze and gave him a small smile. “I brought a case from Sussex in my trunk,” she admitted with a nod, realizing right away that Michael knew it hadn’t come from his stock. “And your butler confirmed that you only have reds in your cellar.”

  Nodding, Michael sampled the wine and seemed pleased. “Thank you for your generosity. It was most kind of you,” he said humbly. The woman is full of surprises, he realized, and at the rate she was going, she would have complete control of the household within the next day. If she didn’t already.

  And is that really so bad? he found himself wondering. She was obviously competent, certainly more so than her elder sister would have been in the same situation.

  Olivia, who had just sampled her soup, held his gaze for a moment. “I believe my dowry was rather limited, so it seemed the least I could ...”

  “Your dowry was more than satisfactory,” Michael interrupted, his voice a bit too harsh. Especially given the circumstances. Indeed, Harold Waterford had been most generous when it came to settling on the dowry for his daughter. Michael’s share of their joint business ventures increased by over ten percent, its worth probably well over five thousand pounds a year, and a draft for one thousand pounds was in his hands before he left Sussex Friday.

  Edward noted the sharp retort and made a note to ask his friend about it later. Seeing a break in their conversation, he asked, “Mrs. Cunningham, have you ever visited our fair city before?”

  Olivia, still a bit startled by Michael’s proclamation and wanting to know more about her dowry, reluctantly turned her attention to Edward. “Several times, of course. My father comes here for business and occasionally brings the family to visit,” she answered, surveying the table to be sure all was in place.

  “Do you then have family in town?” Edward prodded, noticing Michael’s grimace.

  Smiling, Olivia nodded. “Indeed. Two aunts and uncles in Mayfair and some cousins in Cheapside. And my elder sister must live somewhere near here,” she finished, her attention on Michael as she mentioned her sister.

  Keeping his face as impassive as possible, Michael nodded.

  “Then you’ll have ladies with whom to go shopping,” Edward said brightly.

  The comment had Olivia realizing she could go shopping in The Strand and Oxford Street and New Bond Street. She could borrow books from a lending library. She could walk in all the fashionable squares. Olivia tried hard to keep her sudden excitement in check and replied, “I suppose so.” This really won’t be so bad, she considered. She was living in London. In a house in a fashionable square in the West End. I can do this.

  Putting down his soup spoon, Michael leaned forward. “I shall give you some pin money so you can do just that.” He paused a moment, remembering the invitation to the Harvey ball he’d read the day before. “By the way, do you have a ball gown?” he wondered. “The Season has barely begun, and we’ve already been invited to a ball.”

  Olivia didn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Has an announcement of our marriage already been printed in the paper?” she asked, swallowing hard. Her attention was diverted for a moment as she nodded to a waiter near the kitchen door.

  Edward and Michael exchanged glances. “No,” they both said in unison. Edward realized her confusion. “Michael and I both received invitations to the Harvey ball, you see, and as his wife, you, of course, are included in the invitation.”

  Knowing he would no longer have to fend off mothers with their would-be-bride daughters, Michael grinned as he found himself looking forward to the ball. No more would he have to endure the parade of biddable girls at every social event. No more would he have to dance with girls he had no intention of spending time with after the ball was over.

  He was a married man now. He was no longer on the Marriage Mart!

  Edward was another matter, though.

  “Poor Edward is still not betrothed, so he will be quite popular at this year’s balls,” Michael teased happily, his mood suddenly much better. A waiter swooped in and removed his soup bowl while another waiter placed a large plate of sliced beef, gravy and potatoes in front of him. The second set of wine glasses was filled with red wine and plates of sweetmeats and fruits appeared on the table. The same dance of plates occurred in front of Olivia and Edward. In just a few seconds, the room was empty of servants and a veritable feast was spread across the table.

  Stunned at both Michael’s teasing and at the quick change of courses, Edward regarded their hostess. “How ... How did you do that?” he wondered in awe. “They’ve never served us dinner like this before.”

  Olivia gave him a questioning glance, not quite sure what he meant. Michael cleared his throat and said, rather proudly, “You’ll find my wife is quite adept at running a household.”

  Blushing, Olivia gave her husband a small nod in response to his compliment. And how would he know that? she wondered, not sure if Michael really meant what he said. What has my father been saying about me?

  “I can see that. But, tell me, Mrs. Cunningham, what would you be doing right now if you weren’t married to this rake?” Edward asked, attempting to annoy Michael.

  Olivia stiffened, her face taking on a look of offense. “I’ll thank you not to refer to my husband in such terms, Mr. Seward.”

  It was Michael’s turn to be stunned by his wife’s defense of him. He stared open-mouthed at Olivia but then could barely contain his amusement, especially when he saw that Edward was doing his best to suppress a grin. “I apologize, my lady,” Edward managed to get out before pressing his lips together in an a
ttempt to stifle his laughter.

  Annoyed by the mutual amusement the two men seemed be enjoying due to her rebuke, Olivia leaned back in her chair. “In answer to your question, I would be living in an estate home in Wiltshire, Mr. Seward,” Olivia said lightly. After all those weeks of working out the particulars, she’d actually been looking forward to the move to Wiltshire and to beginning her position as a governess. It was only ten days ago when she’d received the good news she’d been hired. Ten days!

  So when Edward posed his simple question about where she would be if she wasn’t married to his best friend, she wanted desperately to be angry.

  She opted instead for forced lightness in her reply.

  “Estate home?” Michael repeated, his fork clattering on his plate. His expression changed suddenly, as if he’d just then remembered that she was to have been a governess for a ducal family. His sister’s family.

  “Wiltshire?” Edward questioned when he’d just managed to avoid spraying the table with a mouthful of wine.

  Olivia shrugged, remembering the butler’s reaction. “I was to be the governess for a duke and duchess’ children. I would have begun my position on the morrow,” she added as she returned her attention to the meat on her plate.

  Michael’s face took on a serious expression as he considered the way in which she delivered her news. He couldn’t mistake the disappointment in the tone of her voice. Was she bitter that she was married to him when she would have been a common servant in a duchy? Was she sorry she was married to him when the alternative was so beneath her? She probably didn’t even realize that by marrying him, she had greatly elevated her social status as well as her financial standing. He would probably have more lands and a title someday. Has her father even told her how lucrative our shared business ventures are and how much her family will gain in standing and wealth as a result?