Page 124 of Oddity of the Ton
“Offering brandy to a woman, before dinner?” She smiled. “I’ll stick to tea. I need my wits now my class has trebled in size.”
“That’s why we’ve employed Miss Akroyd,” Monty said. “Now you’re a member of the family, there’s no need for you to teach anymore.”
“I still have a duty to the children—especially Joe.”
Monty glanced toward the children. The little boy was now scribbling again, absorbed in his work while the others laughed and chatted together.
“Must I change who I am to suit you?” Olivia asked.
Monty shook his head. “No, Olivia. I want you to be happy here as my sister—but the last thing I want is to have you change yourself to suit the expectations of others.”
She laughed. “Who are you—and what have you done with the Duke of Whitcombe?”
“I don’t follow you.”
“You don’t sound at all like the soulless aristocrat I always believed you to be. Where have you been hiding that kind soul? Or have you experienced an epiphany?”
An epiphany…
Yes, he’d been struck by a revelation that the world would be a better place were individuals to embrace their individuality rather than conform.
“Perhaps Iwillhave a brandy,” she said.
He poured a measure and handed it to her. They clinked glasses, and she took a sip.
“I suppose there’s no point in my asking where she is now,” Olivia said. “It was too much to hope she’d be here when I arrived. Will she ever return?”
He drained his glass and poured another measure. Why did the mention of his mother always bring about a thirst for brandy and the oblivion it gave?
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Olivia said.
“I’m not upset,” he replied, “merely frustrated that Mother refuses to acknowledge you. It’s not your fault that—”
“I didn’t mean the dowager, Montague. I meanther.”
Monty had no need to ask who Olivia meant byher.
“Though you were opposites in terms of countenance and rank, you seemed well suited,” she said. “Like the sharp sauce that was served at dinner last night. The beef, which you told me was the finest cut, was nevertheless bland in its refinement. Yetthe sauce complemented it perfectly, rendering it palatable—and even enjoyable.”
“Are you likening me to a fillet steak in need of enhancement to render my company bearable?”
“No,” she said quietly. “But you lack completion.”
At that moment he felt a hand tug his sleeve. He glanced down to Joe standing before him.
“Joe, sweetheart, what is it?” Olivia asked.
The boy flicked through the notebook until he came to a page with a drawing on it, and he held it up. On the page was a portrait of a sheep’s head, portrayed with extraordinary accuracy and attention to detail, such that the sheep’s eyes seemed to be alive and staring at Monty from the page.
“Joe drew that last month, didn’t you, Joe?” Olivia said.
The boy nodded, then offered the notebook to Monty.
“Is this a gift for me?” Monty asked. “Why, thank you, little master. I’m much—”
“N-no.”
At first, Monty thought he’d imagined it. Surely the boy hadn’tspoken?
