“Being married does not mean you must abandon all decorum,” he responded.
Olivia peered over the newssheet at him with a smug look. “Oh, I think it rather means I can do exactly that.”
Beside him, Miss Theodosia bit her lip to keep from smiling, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. Richard sighed, pressing his fingertips to his temple. He found he couldn’t wait until these two departed for the circulating library.
For a few blissful moments, the only sound in the breakfastroom was the soft rustling of paper as Olivia perused the newssheets, her tea momentarily forgotten. Then without warning, she let out a sharp gasp.
“How extraordinary,” she exclaimed. “It appears that Mr. Haverleigh’s trial is moving forward. He is to be tried for attempting to murder his sister, Lady Warwicke!”
Lowering the newssheets, Olivia met Miss Theodosia’s gaze and continued. “They claim he used an age-old poison that is so potent, it can kill with just four drops.”
“That is awful,” Miss Theodosia murmured.
Olivia gave a solemn nod, though a touch of mischief crept into her tone. “Yes, dreadful indeed. Still, one must admit, it is quite the scandal. Perhaps it will distract Society just long enough to forget I eloped to Gretna Green.”
She had barely finished speaking when a flash of white fur and fluttering silk ribbons streaked into the dining room like a miniature whirlwind. Miss Theodosia shrieked and scrambled backward in her chair, clutching at the table edge.
“What is that?” she cried.
Unperturbed, Olivia bent down with a delighted laugh and scooped up the tiny bundle of fur. “That is a Pomeranian puppy. His name is Finnegan. Isn’t he the dearest little thing you’ve ever seen?”
“I thought it was a rat,” Miss Theodosia admitted.
Richard chuckled. “Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister did try to keep a rat as a pet.”
“Hush,” Olivia murmured as she brought the puppy close to her cheek. “Don’t listen to them, Finnegan. You are nothing like a rat. You are perfection in a puffball.”
“I meant no offense,” Miss Theodosia said quickly, still eyeing the animal with uncertainty.
With a graceful shrug, Olivia placed Finnegan in her lap and reached for a slice of ham from the serving dish. “Nonetaken. But I should remind you that Her Majesty herself keeps Pomeranians. They are very fashionable.”
Richard’s brow furrowed. “That may be, but you are not the queen. And more importantly, you are not to feed your dog from the breakfast table.”
Olivia turned wide, innocent eyes upon her brother. “And where, pray tell, should I feed him?”
“In the kitchen, where his food dish is,” Richard replied.
“But that’s so far away,” Olivia protested. “And Finnegan is simply famished. Besides, he’s so very small. He eats hardly anything at all.”
“Olivia—” Richard began, his voice edged with warning.
“Richard is right,” their mother interjected. “You will not feed that dog at the table.”
Olivia sighed with theatrical resignation. “Very well,” she said, giving Finnegan a final nuzzle before placing him gently on the floor. The puppy gave a tiny sneeze, then scampered off, his little paws tapping a lively rhythm across the polished wood floor.
Miss Theodosia watched the dog warily before turning back towards her plate.
The long clock chimed in the corner and Olivia stood up. “Well,Minerva Press Circulating Libraryshould be open by now,” she announced. “Shall we be off, Dosia?”
“Yes, please do,” Richard muttered.
Unbothered, Olivia grinned and cast him a knowing glance. “You say that now, Brother, but you’ll miss us the moment we’re gone.”
“Highly unlikely, especially since I intend to go to the club the moment I finish breakfast,” he replied.
Olivia placed a hand to her heart in mock offense. “What a cold farewell. One would think you were eager to be rid of us.”
“I am,” he replied evenly, lifting his cup in a mock toast. “Now off you go—before I change my mind and accompany you, just to make the outing miserable.”
