Page 71 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
Immediately, Nathaniel regretted having mentioned it. He did not know how it might impact Mr. Digby to hear the truth. And it was important that Miss Digby learn it first. After all, she might help him decide what they should or shouldn’t say to her father on the matter.
“And you deserve one, sir,” he replied, swallowing hard against what it was he was going to say. It was not enough to simply tell about the present. The past would have to be shared.
“Then will you be the one to give it?” he asked.
“I…I fear, Mr. Digby, that my grandmother has kept it from me,” he lied.
He seemed as intent on learning more as Nathaniel had been. He knew it would not be an easy tale for Mr. Digby to hear, thus he chose the route of the lie, knowing that it was a disrespect that might refrain from hurting him any further.
“And whatever, Mr. Digby, is the reason behind all of this, no matter how it has affected us until now, the truth remains that I love your daughter. I wish for nothing but her happiness and to avoid the pain that has been felt by so many before,” he said.
Mr. Digby stayed quiet. Once more, Nathaniel could understand it and did not wish to push him. But a question lingered in his mind and he had to have an answer.
“And if you can understand now what it is that I propose, I must ask if you are, in fact, willing to give Miss Digby this letter that I have for her?”
Chapter 35
Olivia was led by the maid into the drawing room and told to wait. Time seemed to tick by slowly and she was growing rather frustrated by it. After all, she was not here to wait and be patient. She had gone to the dowager’s home to demand an answer.
So she sat, growing angrier by the moment until the maid returned with a cup of tea and she finally asked, “Is the dowager intending to avoid me forever?”
It had been a rude question and it was evident that the maid was taken aback. She wrapped her fingers together to steady her hands from shaking.
“She shall come presently, Miss. Please excuse the delay,” she replied in a nervous, breathy voice.
Olivia instantly felt ashamed and knew her cheeks were flooding with red. She was not typically so rude as that. “Forgive me, that was unkind. I did not mean to speak to you so harshly,” she apologised.
“It is nothing, Miss. I shall go and check if her ladyship is coming,” she said, exiting the room quickly.
Olivia berated herself. She was here to scold the wealthy, not the servants. What a terrible mistake she had made in losing her temper to a young woman who had done nothing at all to deserve it.
She began to wonder if there was something about money and wealth that caused a person to change. Had she been rude to the maid because, for a brief moment, it had seemed that one day she might be the lady of a house like this one? Had she been changed by the desire to marry a man she loved, but one who could also have provided for her in such a way that she had never been provided for?
It was difficult for her to determine. Perhaps she really had been changed. Perhaps her union with the Earl of Glauston had been detrimental to her character and she was no longer the young woman she had once been. Olivia wondered if her family had recognised it as she did.
Had she continued to treat her sisters well? She thought so, but her moodiness had certainly had an effect. And then, of course, there was the fact of her having repeatedly lied to her father, something she would never have done before all of this began. Yes, she had changed. And she was not proud of it. Olivia wanted to return to the young woman she had once been. Someone to be considered kind and worth spending time with.
Wealth had no bearing on character.
But within a few moments, the door opened once more and Lady Kirby entered, wearing one of her many grand dresses and looking like sheer perfection.
Olivia stood, proudly, in her drab dress. She allowed Lady Kirby to see that she was not a thing to be toyed with at all. A gentle curtsey was accompanied by the glare of her eyes that did not cast down as was the custom, but remained trained on the dowager’s pitying face the entire time.
“Miss Digby, you need not curtsey to me. Please be seated,” she remarked.
“Yes, Lady Kirby, whatever you wish. After all, it is always whatever you wish, is it not?” she challenged in a rude, unexpected way.
The words had come from her lips before Olivia had even realised it, but she was immensely proud of herself for having dared to speak to the dowager in that way. After all, there were not many who would have such brashness to do such a thing and she couldn’t help but be glad that she did.
The dowager’s face twitched at the disrespect, but she refrained from speaking against Olivia. Instead she simply lowered her head as if acquiescing to the insult.
“Miss Digby, I understand that you are rather angry and frustrated and truly, I cannot blame you for it. Therefore I must ask if you would be willing to share with me the extent of what it is that you feel and your reason is for coming,” she said.
Olivia felt her heart speed up, knowing this was her opportunity to release all the anger and rage that was within her. She wondered if she ought to let it all out, unleash it on the dowager, or keep that calm- and cool-headedness that was even more frightening.
In the end, Olivia knew herself to be incapable of that. Her emotions would always get the better of her in these situations. Yes, she could use wit and sarcasm well, but they did not make a difference for her in terms of tone. Her tone and her facial expressions could not be maintained in a decent light. No, certainly she would rather wound the dowager than be kind to her.
“Lady Kirby, you must know more than anyone why I am here. I deserve answers and you know it. I am to be told exactly why it is that you arranged for this union between myself and your grandson. What led you to do it?” she began.
