Page 15 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
Olivia knew that the mansion was near. She kept her eyes on the landscape surrounding the wagon that carried herself and a dozen others. Embarrassed at how finely she was dressed for a woman unworthy of her own coach, Olivia kept her eyes down and away from those in the wagon with her.
She felt the stares of others who clearly wondered why a woman in such finery would be riding with them. Not only that, but if she was wealthy and noble enough to dress as royalty, ought she not to be with a chaperone of some sort?
But Olivia tried not to be overwhelmed by her unique position. None of them knew why she was dressed as she was or why she was without those other fineries. She was going to the Manning Estate. And when she left the wagon, they would all know. It would make sense, finally.
As the wagon crested the hill, Olivia took in the view of the house, a distance away. She would have to get out of the wagon soon and walk.
“Excuse me, please leave me at the path there,” she said, gesturing towards the small road that led through trees to the mansion.
Indeed, there were muffled sounds from some of the other passengers, noting where her destination lay. Olivia hopped off the wagon when it stopped and began walking forward, making her way to the estate.
Even from far away she saw that it was the most exquisite place she had ever laid eyes on. The pathway leading to the home was surrounded by the most incredible gardens, filled with flowers of every colour and smell that could please one’s senses.
Amidst the flowers, sculptures led Olivia to the steps that led to the house. She had heard that inside there were a great deal more works of art, paintings and sculptures alike. She hoped she might have the opportunity to glimpse them, if she was fortunate enough.
Olivia swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and gave a sturdy knock on the door. She was determined that she would not let her nerves but that she would exude confidence and strength at all times in front of the dowager.
“Good afternoon. Miss Digby, I presume?” greeted the butler who answered the door.
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Please come in,” he instructed. “Lady Kirby is is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Olivia followed him to the room where Eliza Kirby was waiting. When he opened the door, the room was revealed to be another outstanding work of art and Olivia could scarcely control her awe. Everything was beautiful, more beautiful than she might have imagined.
Sculptures and gold leaf and paintings and carvings adorned every nook. And seated upon a peach-coloured satin sofa, Eliza Kirby waited.
Olivia’s breath left her when she noted the pearls and rubies that adorned the dowager. Her plum-coloured gown was like nothing she had ever seen before. Even with her own ornamented dress, Olivia felt like a street urchin.
“Miss Digby, how lovely that you have arrived,” she greeted, remaining in her seat.
Olivia walked to her and greeted her in a proper manner.
“You look lovely. Please, take a seat,” the dowager said.
Olivia did as instructed, shocked by the warmth and kindness she was being shown. She had expected the dowager to be colder, more intense. But the smile on Lady Kirby’s face was a welcome surprise.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said.
A housekeeper entered the room with fresh tea and she poured it for the two women. Olivia knew that in her home, she could take as much sugar and milk as she liked. But here, in the presence of such a grand woman, she did not wish to appear gluttonous. Following in the behaviour of the dowager, she took only the slightest of sugar and a dash of milk.
They each stirred their tea in a ladylike fashion, quiet for a moment as Olivia waited for the dowager to speak. She began to wonder if she was forgetting something. Was she supposed to do anything? Was she behaving politely enough?
“Now, I imagine that you are probably quite curious as to why I have called you here,” the dowager said at last.
Olivia sighed in relief. “Indeed, my lady. I have been wondering, but imagined that you would tell me in your own time,” she replied.
“Yes, well. As it happens, I know a little about you and your family. Just a small amount, mind you. I do not claim to be one who knows you all as well as you know one another. But I think I might have a way to help your current circumstances,” she said, allowing the curiosity to linger.
Olivia was surprised yet again. She wondered if she might ever decipher the ways of this woman before her. “To help us? Forgive me, but I do not understand. In what way? And how is it that you know of us?” she asked. Olivia knew that questioning nobility was not the best idea, but she couldn’t simply sit by when so many questions raged through her mind.
“As for how I know of your family, that is not important just now. What is important is that I have a proposition for you, Miss Digby. It is one you will not have expected and one that I imagine will either excite you or frighten you,” she warned.
Olivia sat at the edge of her chair, waiting for the reveal. She had to know what it was that the dowager was thinking. The tension was too great to bear.
“As you are a young woman of an age at which you must either marry or secure employment, I should like it if you might consider marriage. To my grandson,” she finally said.
Olivia had imagined thousands of scenarios on her way to the dowager’s home. This had never been amongst them. How was it possible that she was being offered something like this? Was it true?
