Olivia cringed inwardly, remembering what she’d told Madame Suzanne and the seamstresses to say on her behalf when Lady Cunningham returned for her fitting.
The viscountess returned her attention to Olivia. “I must thank you for your kind words, especially since you hadn’t yet met me.”
“You are most welcome, my lady,” Olivia said with a nod, still not certain of the woman’s mood. Or perhaps, she is teasing me, she considered, although there wasn’t a hint of humor about the woman.
Lady Cunningham sighed, not quite sure what to make of her daughter-in-law. “It is rather hard for me to believe an assessment of ‘magnificent’ can be bestowed upon someone you have not known very long,” she commented, her head cocked in a manner suggesting she was challenging Olivia’s opinion of Michael.
“Violet,” Lord Cunningham spoke in a low tone, patting a hand over the one that was perched on his arm. “She knows her man,” he whispered. From his manner, it was apparent he knew far more about his daughter-in-law than did his wife.
“Mother,” Michael tried to interject, but Olivia squeezed his arm. Hard.
“Oh, I assure you I knew it when I first met him,” Olivia responded brightly, leaning toward the older couple so that she could be heard over the din. “How long has it been, Michael? Five years since you rescued me from that rake?” she remarked as she turned her attention to Michael. At his affirming nod, she returned her attention to his parents. “And he has continued to prove himself worthy of that description since our wedding last week,” she added, glancing up at Michael to find him staring at her with a mix of adoration and confusion.
Lady Cunningham blinked, obviously surprised by the news. “You waited five years for my son to ask for your hand?” she wondered, the question sounding as if she thought Olivia to be out of her right mind. “But what ... what if he hadn’t come through with an offer? You could have been left on the shelf!”
“Violet ...” Lord Cunningham spoke quietly, the warning in his voice going unheard by the younger couple. His wife immediately covered her mouth with a gloved hand, a blush rising to redden her cheeks.
Olivia felt her own cheeks color again and wondered if she was being tested by the viscountess. “I believe the wait was necessary as I rather doubt my father would have allowed me to marry any sooner,” she replied lightly, hoping the response didn’t sound like the white lie it might be. Her father had never said anything to her about when she could wed or when he expected her to get offers. And she’d spent the last year thinking she was nearly on the shelf. Arranging to be a governess was simply the means to make her own way in life and not be a burden to her parents.
How could she know Michael Cunningham had other plans?
Feeling a bit spiteful, she added, “But I assure you, had I been on the shelf, I would not have collected any dust. If I wasn’t married to your son, I would be your daughter’s governess.” Michael’s arm under her hand jerked a bit, making her wonder if he found her jibe amusing or an insult.
Dumbfounded by this bit of news, the viscountess stared at Olivia and then turned her attention onto her son and then to her husband, as if she needed confirmation. The viscount chuckled in reply, the expression and sound so much like Michael that Olivia could barely contain her amusement.
“’Tis true. I had to fight Elizabeth for her,” Michael stated, a teasing gleam in his eye.
A smile finally graced Lady Cunningham’s face. “And I’ll bet ten pounds she left a few marks on you, you scoundrel!” She turned her attention back to Olivia. “I never actually gamble, but it’s rather fun to pretend, don’t you think?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper, her lips curling up.
Olivia caught her own lower lip with a tooth and wondered at the sudden change in Lady Cunningham’s mood. Formidable, yes, but she was also a woman of good humor. “My money was on the duchess,” Olivia replied with a wink.
“As was mine,” Lord Cunningham intoned, his teasing grin still firmly in place.
The smiling viscountess turned her attention on her son. “Oh, Michael, why didn’t you tell me?” she scolded him, her manner suggesting she was just a bit peeved with him. She kept her voice low as to prevent nearby couples from overhearing her chastise her son.
Sighing, Michael shrugged. Why not, indeed? He could have staved off years of queries from his mother had he just made it known he had someone in mind to be his wife. Of course, that would have required he admit to himself that he felt affection for Olivia Waterford – something he’d only realized when Elizabeth made him aware of her own plans for Olivia. “I did not wish to raise your hopes when I wasn’t sure the lady would accept my offer,” he countered defensively.
Mark Cunningham pulled his wife a bit closer to him, a move that seemed to embarrass her just a bit. “You did well to keep your promise to your mother,” the viscount commented lightly. “Your good news simply adds to ours. Instead of another trip to Italy, your mother will be joining me at the estate house in Horsham,” he announced with a nod. “We plan to leave for the country house next week.”
Michael’s eyebrows shot up as he stared at his mother. “No more Continent?” he wondered, shocked at the news. What of Parliament?
Violet Cunningham was blushing, her head shaking a bit. “Not for a few years at least,” she agreed. “I am actually looking forward to spending more time in Horsham. I rather miss living on the river, and I think I like the country life much better than life in a filthy city.”
When Michael returned his attention to his father, the man leaned in and said, “She keeps thinking I have taken a mistress. Every time she comes to the house in Horsham, she seems to arrive when I am merely hosting one or another of my cousins.”
Michael’s eyebrows shot up as he remembered telling his mother about Colette when he escorted her to the ball in Crawley. “As I recall, cousin Colette was the one that started it,” he whispered.
“She and two of her sisters have since married and moved out, thank the gods. I was about to commit one or two of the seven deadly sins if they had not.” His father sobered a bit, though. “We have news of your brother,” he said with a sigh, casting a glance at Olivia as if he regretted including her in announcement. He wondered if she knew anything of the rake that was Michael’s brother.
Michael stiffened, not sure what to expect his father to say. “Indeed?”
Mark nodded. “Seems Marcus realized he will not last long here in London. His gambling debts have finally caught up with him. He has this very day boarded a ship bound for America,” Lord Cunningham stated, his manner suggesting he was in agreement with what his eldest son had done.
“Death threats can be very effective that way,” Lady Cunningham whispered sadly, her comment overheard by only Olivia, who merely nodded her understanding.
“He has formally relinquished his duty as first son,” Lord Cunningham continued. “Claims he wants nothing to do with managing the Cunningham lands. That means, of course, that you will inherit the viscountcy upon my death.”
Michael stood very still as Olivia placed a hand over the one she already held in the crook of his arm, her head leaning against his shoulder for a moment as she considered the viscount’s announcement. Michael took a deep breath and nodded, a bit surprised by his brother’s move.
Marcus would not be bankrupting the viscountcy after all, he realized.
And that meant that with decent estate management and the investments he already had in place, Michael would no longer have to develop business deals to pay his way in the world.
“I shall endeavor to do as well as you have, Father,” Michael stated with a solemn nod. “But I hardly expect I’ll be having to inherit your duties for another thirty years or so,” he added with a gleam in his eye.
Lord Cunningham grinned at his son’s comment. “Do not get too comfortable in that terrace you call home,” he said jovially. “I am con
sidering travel. I plan to take your mother on the Grand Tour of the Continent and leave you in charge of everything.”
Violet Cunningham gasped at her husband’s comment, obviously the first she’d heard of any travel plans. She wondered what moved Mark Cunningham to send word that he wished her to return to England from this latest trip sooner than she planned. When she arrived at the house in Mayfair two days ago, Mark was there to greet her, treating her as if she was his long-lost love.
Perhaps she was spending too much time away from England, Violet realized.
Having never not been in love with her husband, Violet Cunningham agreed to his suggestion that she stay with him – whether he was in London for Parliament or Horsham for estate matters.
The conversations of the crowd around them suddenly quieted and the four turned to follow the gazes of the other guests. At the top of the stairs stood a very tall and regal Edward Seward and, on his arm, a lithe, tall, dark-haired woman. Although not showing any nervousness, she seemed to avoid the gaze of the crowd by simply staring over their heads, giving her an air of superiority. “Anna!” Olivia breathed, loudly enough for both Michael and the Cunninghams to hear.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Michael whispered, his arm suddenly tensing under Olivia’s. He barely noticed his curse and did not apologize for it. “He really did go through with it.”
Olivia tore her gaze from the couple to give her husband a sideways glance, not for overhearing his curse but for what his statement implied. Michael knew Edward would seek out his love after what had happened Monday evening. Perhaps he, too, had encouraged Edward to follow his heart. And I told Edward where he could find her, she thought happily. “They will marry for love,” she murmured, not intending for Michael to hear.
“If they haven’t already.” He seemed to stiffen suddenly, leaving Olivia to wonder if she had somehow offended him with the remark.
“She is a regal beauty,” Lady Cunningham remarked as she closed her fan and held it against her cheek. “And very familiar. Is she the daughter of an earl perhaps?” she wondered, directing her query to Michael.
“She is not a daughter of a peer of the realm,” he replied quietly, “But as to who she is ...” He let the sentence trail off.
The announcer’s voice called out over the quieting ballroom, “The Honorable Edward Seward and his wife, the Honorable Mrs. Edward Seward.”
A collective gasp could be heard around the room. Murmurs of “Who is she?” and “When did he marry?” filtered to Olivia’s ears. She glanced at Michael and then noticed his mother’s attention on her.
“You seemed to recognize her, too,” Lady Cunningham accused, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “From where do we know her?” she asked, pinning Olivia with a gaze emphasized by a bob of the gold ostrich feather arcing from the top of her head.
“Violet,” Lord Cunningham’s low voice said in a warning tone. Lady Cunningham glanced at her husband and nodded her head as if to acknowledge that her query was improper.
Taking a deep breath, Olivia considered how to describe what she knew of the woman who had so completely stolen Edward Seward’s heart. “Anna was one of the seamstresses that helped to create your gown – and mine,” Olivia replied quietly. “She works ... used to work at Madame Suzanne’s modiste.”
Staring in shock, Lady Cunningham gave no reply but turned her attention back to the couple, now descending the staircase as if they were part of England’s royalty.
Olivia looked up at Michael and tilted her head in the direction of the staircase.
“Please forgive us,” Michael said to his parents as he placed a hand over the one that Olivia had on his arm. “I really must speak with Edward,” he said, and then he moved them in the direction of the staircase even before Olivia could curtsy to her in-laws.
“It was an honor to meet you. Can you come for dinner Sunday?” Olivia tried to say as she was swept along through the crush. The music had resumed and several couples were moving away from the staircase toward the dance floor.
The younger Cunninghams reached Edward and Anna as they took the last few steps. “Congratulations!” Olivia blurted to Anna before she could even acknowledge Edward. “You look divine!” Indeed, the seamstress looked the part of the wife of a spare heir. Her brunette hair was piled in loose curls on the top of her head with spiral tendrils on either side of her temples. Rubies adorned each ear and were spread in tiny beads on a gold chain across the base of her swan-like neck. Layers of pale pink chiffon floated beneath a fitted bodice of pink satin. Long white gloves could not hide her slender fingers nor their nervousness as Anna gripped Edward’s arm. At the sight of Olivia, Anna’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Cunningham!” she said, moving to take Olivia’s hand with her free one.
Michael’s brow quirked as he regarded Edward, and the new groom caught the look. “Did you take my advice?” Michael wondered as the women exchanged their greetings.
“I took Olivia’s as to the wedding and yours as to where to spend the past few days,” Edward replied, his head bobbing. “I love her, and I could care less what my family thinks,” he added, sotto voce. Stepping back a bit, he said in a louder voice, “Anna, I wish to present my very best friend, Michael Cunningham and his new wife, Olivia.”
Michael gave a leg to Anna’s curtsy. “Very pleased to finally meet you. I hope you found the accommodations suitable at the Clarendon Hotel?” he asked, directing his question to Edward.
The taller man smiled before replying, “Most accommodating. And very discreet. Anna and I exchanged vows Tuesday morning before a bishop, and this is the first the denizens of London know of our union.”
Anna’s face displayed a blush at her husband’s account of their quick marriage. “I fear Madame Suzanne would be most displeased with me leaving her employ except that Edward ordered an entire wardrobe for me as he was taking me away from the modiste,” she explained, mostly to Olivia. “I did not have the heart to tell him I already have beautiful gowns I made in the hopes that he would one day come for me.”
Olivia felt tears prick the edges of her eyes when she heard Anna’s words. “I am so very glad he found you,” she whispered to Anna.
The young woman’s eyes widened at Olivia’s comment. “I have you to thank for that,” she whispered back. “I do hope you have forgiven Edward his ... impropriety,” she added, leaning in so that her whisper could only be heard by Olivia. “The naughty boy told me what he did.”
Smiling demurely, Olivia nodded. “Of course. He was only trying to help.”
Anna leaned over so that her lips were very near to Olivia’s ear. “But it was entirely unnecessary! Mr. Cunningham made it very clear to my husband that he loves you dearly – that he always has, and that he had no intention of keeping a mistress – so Edward’s trick was very cruel to you,” Anna confided, her eyes taking on a worried look as she pulled away from Olivia. “I was quite incensed with him when he told me what he’d done.”
Olivia regarded Anna with a bit of surprise and wonder. So, Michael admitted his love for me to his best friend? Then, surely he must love me. “Do forgive him,” Olivia whispered, her lips quivering as she returned her attention to what Michael was saying.
“Have you decided where you’ll live?” Michael queried Edward, deciding he really didn’t want to know what the women were discussing.
The issue of where these newlyweds would live hadn’t come up Tuesday morning when Edward left to find his Anna. Edward had seemed so nervous about the prospect of marrying his beloved seamstress, Michael did not wish to burden the man with thoughts beyond getting married.
His father’s pronouncement about taking over the duties of the viscountcy meant Michael and Olivia would probably be moving to Horsham very soon.
Olivia exchanged glances with Anna and Edward before looking up at Michael. “Why not at the townhouse?” she wondered, afraid that perhaps Michael had
declared they could not share the home. “I would so like them to live with us. I would have another woman with whom to learn how to be the wife of an aristocrat!” She turned her gaze back to the beautiful seamstress, hoping to find her of a similar opinion.
“The arrangement is agreeable with me, of course,” Michael countered with a shrug, “But I believe it is up to Edward and Anna as to where they wish to live.”
Edward pulled his bride closer to his side. “All in good time, my friends. It will be at least a few months before Anna and I settle down,” he said with a cocked eyebrow. “I’m taking her with me to Italy and Greece for a very long honeymoon.”
Michael and Olivia exchanged quick glances, mischief apparent in both sets of eyes. “Then we shall have to make the most of the terrace while you are away,” Michael replied with a cocked eyebrow. “And when you are back, we’ll simply move to Horsham.”
Later that evening ...
Olivia hurried into the purple room, removing her gloves even before she’d closed the door behind her. Although she considered ringing for Sarah to help her out of her dress, petticoats, and corset, she resisted in the hopes that Michael would arrive before she was completely undressed.
Tease him, her sister had said.
Olivia took a deep breath and slowed her movements, remembering her ball gown would be Eloisa’s wedding dress. She carefully pulled it over her head and draped it on the only chair. Peeling off her petticoats, she suddenly felt liberated. She hoped Michael would arrive in the next moment or so. Her heart beating hard, she loosened the ties of the corset. Before long, she had wriggled out of it and was left in her chemise, stockings and slippers. Standing in front of the cheval mirror, she pulled off the chemise and regarded her nearly naked body. Her suddenly swollen breasts felt heavy, their tips hardening in anticipation. The stockings were tied with garters near the tops of her thighs, and she wondered if she should remove them completely. Instead, she pulled the rose buds from her hair along with the pins that held the braids and chignon in place. Her hair cascaded down past her shoulders as she shook it out, its red highlights catching the candlelight along with the jewels of the necklace. Putting one foot up on the bench at the end of the bed, she bent over a bit to untie a garter. The sound of a sharply inhaled breath reached her, and she froze.
TuesdayNights Page 37