Page 11 of The Duke's Stubborn Wallflower
“Very well.” Nigel glanced out of the window and saw ominous grey clouds forming. “Have them ready the coach. It looks like rain, and if I must do this detestable task, I would at the very least remain dry.”
“Very good, Your Grace.” Mr. Amos bowed. “I shall make the arrangements at once. I will look forward to hearing of your successful purchase.”
Nigel scowled but said nothing. As the door closed behind Mr. Amos, he turned back to the list of names the man had brought with him. He gave them a cursory glance but found that his eyes kept being drawn back to Olivia’s name.I really must apologise to her.
He glanced at the blank sheets of paper on his desk then back at the name on Mr. Amos’s list. He thought of his numerous attempts, little more than kindling, and then he thought of having to purchase a new hat.
For a moment, he was genuinely torn.Would I rather try to apologise for the umpteenth time or shop for a new hat?On the one hand, his attempts at such letters had proved to be quite the exercise in frustration. One the other hand, the purchasing of a hat was one of the most tedious and dull tasks known to man.
Could he not have broken a bottle of whiskey?Nigel detested all forms of shopping, save that which was required for the procurement of good drink or of a good horse. A hat, however, was neither of those things.
Nigel scowled at the remains of his old hat as though it personally had insulted him. “This is the thanks I get for trying to help a man make something of himself. A ruined hat, an irate steward and staff, and now, a dratted shopping trip.”
He would have to buy the hat, and then he would sit down and make a proper go of making amends to Olivia.A shopping trip and an apology letter. This day couldn’t possibly get worse.He comforted himself with this fact as he clambered into the carriage and made the journey into town.
Chapter Five
A New Start
Olivia stared around her room at Pembleton Manor. It was smaller than her chambers in Emberly Castle and smaller than the room she used at Emberly House. Yet, somehow, she found the size comforting.
There were a few paintings on the walls, a good-sized wardrobe, a very comfortable bed, a dressing table, and a small stool. Olivia particularly loved the quality of the light as it streamed through the large window, and she found the sounds of the city rather comforting. She smiled and then tried to force herself to return to the task at hand. She had been at Pembleton Manor for just under a week and had meant to write a letter to her mother. Yet every time she started the letter, she remembered Nigel Maxton in her bed, and the embarrassment that had followed.
A knock sounded at the door, preventing Olivia from falling too deeply into her memory. “Lady Olivia, do you have a moment?” a muffled voice called through the door.
“Just a moment!” Olivia called, shaking herself and moving to open the door.
She found Jane Pembleton, one of Rose’s younger sisters, standing before her.
Like Rose, Jane was very pretty with chestnut hair and doe-like eyes. She was shorter than Rose which made her considerably shorter than Olivia, though she never made Olivia feel uncomfortable about her height.
“I wanted to come and see how you were settling in.” Jane beamed at Olivia and then frowned as she looked around the room. “The room seems almost exactly as it did when you arrived.”
Olivia shrugged and closed the door. “I did not bring very much with me.”
“Why not?” Jane asked.
“I was planning on buying most of my wardrobe while I was here, and well…” Olivia blushed slightly before saying, “I sort of viewed this as something of a fresh start.”
“A fresh start?” Jane seemed confused.
Olivia nodded. “Yes. Sort of a way to put last season behind me. A clean slate as it were.”
Olivia paused before adding thoughtfully, “Though it is not only about that… It is… well, it is also about me.”
Jane canted her head. “I am not sure I follow.”
“I love my family dearly, but well, I’ve never really been apart from them,” Olivia began, pausing for thought.
“That is quite normal, is it not? I do not think I’ve spent much time away from my own family,” Jane interrupted.
“It’s different.” Olivia drummed her fingers on her lap as she tried to think of the right worlds. “You and your sisters, well, even before you were out, you visited, and you were encouraged to, well, do things. To be your own people.”
“I suppose,” Jane agreed.
“It is different. When father died… well, it was as if our whole word was sort of frozen. My family spent all our time together, and well, with such an age gap and my mother in the throes of grief… I spent rather a lot of time caring for my siblings. And spent all this time with my family, thinking about what they needed and wanted, and we were so isolated from the world…” Olivia trailed off.
Jane looked thoughtful. “You feel that such concentrated time with your family in isolation has perhaps made you lose something of who you are?”
