Page 26 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
Olivia looked away, too embarrassed to admit what had happened.
“Come now, please tell me. I am your sister, you know I’ll not judge you or tease you if you are truly upset. What happened? What did they do?” she pushed.
Olivia sighed, relenting to the fact that Louise was the one person she could be honest with.
“If you must know, it went nothing as I had anticipated. The dowager appeared at first meeting to be a kind woman, but I see now that she simply meant to use me for the advances of her horrid grandson. She cares nothing for the feelings or needs of others and was quite determined merely to make me his wife for his own sake,” she informed Louise, rolling her eyes in disdain.
“Whatever do you mean? How did she intend to use you? And, as much as I love you, why on earth would she choose someone like you for his bride? We have no title or wealth. How might you advance him?” Louise enquired.
“I asked myself the same question. The only answer I have been able to come up with is that he has already chased off any who are of his own status. Assuming me desperate enough to accept such treatment, the dowager surely must have assumed that I would marry him anyway,” she continued.
“Olivia, I am sorry that this happened. I truly thought this was going to be the fairytale ending you deserve. I never once imagined all of it might come to this. I mean, I suppose I did not know what to expect,” Louise said.
“Well, I ought to have known. Father did. I was a fool,” Olivia said once more.
“Stop calling yourself a fool. You are no such thing. You are a wise, wonderful woman with a great strength. Why do you consider yourself a fool?” she asked.
Olivia shook her head, feeling the tears well behind her eyes again. Wishing that she could hold herself together, but aware that she could not, she rushed from the room. Her dress swished with the pace and she felt Louise remain behind, for which she was grateful.
With heaves of disappointment, Olivia threw herself on the bed. She did not know whether to cry or grieve or berate herself. Nothing seemed to be the right option. Nothing seemed like it might take away the agony she was feeling.
It had been extraordinarily difficult for Olivia to have her sister see her like this. She wished she had brought clothing to change into before returning home, but that was quite impractical. What would she have done? Changed in the coach?
No, that would never have been an option, but being seen by her sister, being seen in such a way, was humiliating. More than that, she felt that it might only destroy her sister’s dreams of the fairytale just as it had her own. What if Louise and Gemma began to lose hope?
Or was that better for them? Was it better that they should not have to dream about impracticalities like this? Instead of giving them hope and then stripping it away, ought she not to be honest with them? Wasn’t it better for her to not give them a false hope?
Whatever the best option was, Olivia couldn’t think about it in that moment. She was far too distracted by her thoughts on what had actually occurred. She felt an overwhelming sadness and entirely hopeless. After all, how could she have let herself go in the first place, believing that there was a chance for love? How could she have trusted that the dowager had hopes for her?
She looked down at the dress that still covered her frame. A dress that was stunning in every way and hugged her form quite exquisitely. But it was a lie. And Olivia wanted to be rid of this lie.
She sat up in the bed and climbed off, going to the small wardrobe to find one of her typical dresses, something simple and comfortable. She grabbed a striped dress that she knew to be one of the more comfortable she owned.
With ferocity, Olivia ripped off the gown from the dowager and loosened the undergarments she had laced so tightly before. Once she could breathe properly, she slipped the grey dress on and then returned to the bed.
It was only then that Olivia allowed herself the deepest grief of it all. It was not merely the embarrassment. It was not only the struggle of having been treated so wretchedly. There was something far deeper that plagued her mind than any of these things.
It was the wounding from a man that a mere week ago she had found so captivating.
How had that freckled, sweet gentleman, the one who had so gently respected her and treated her with such kindness, how had he become this man? How was it that he had so easily fooled and tricked her? Was she so gullible? Was she so naive?
Or had she been swayed by something else? Perhaps in all of her writings and having just come back to it, she had hoped for this. Perhaps she had willed all of this to occur, that she might have an opportunity with a nobleman.
And it had all been squandered, wasted away and their initial encounter forgotten. Yes, perhaps this had been of her own choosing. After all, the Earl of Glauston had been the most beautiful creature she had ever met until she was finally before him as a potential wife.
It would not be a stretch to say that this was the thing that wounded her the most.
Nothing could be more treachery than to have believed these things of him. To have chosen to trust him based on a mere encounter. She ought never to trust her heart again.
A knock on the door alerted Olivia. How long had she lain there? The fading light outside the small window told her that it had been a good deal of time. She would have to make herself ready for dinner.
“Come in,” Olivia called.
Louise entered the room as if it were not her own. Olivia knew she was receiving a special respect afforded only to those who had been subjected to the cruelties of society.
In her hands, she held a tray of food and she brought it slowly over to the bed where she sat herself down, keeping the tray on her lap.
“I told Father that you were indisposed. He tried to enquire further but I insinuated that it was women’s troubles and he did not bother me further about it for answers. I believe you shall have the evening in privacy if that is what you would prefer,” Louise told her.
