They made their way down the corridor, and Olivia chattered happily as she opened the parlor door. Inside, sunlightstreamed through tall windows, catching on the delicate fabrics draped over the settees. Four gowns—muslin and lace, adorned with careful embroidery and fine netting—were displayed.
Theodosia moved closer, running her fingertips along the edge of a sleeve. “These are exquisite,” she murmured in genuine awe.
Olivia nodded, folding her arms with satisfaction. “She truly surpassed herself. And this is just the beginning. There is more to come, including your ball gown. Though I do believe she mentioned a delay in delivery.”
Theodosia’s gaze lingered on a pale blue gown with puffed sleeves and a scooped neckline. “This one might suit for a ball,” she suggested hopefully.
Olivia let out a laugh. “Hardly. That is an afternoon gown. Lovely, yes, but not nearly dramatic enough for the ballroom.”
“I have never worn anything so fine before,” Theodosia admitted, brushing a bit of lace between her fingers.
“You deserve every stitch,” Olivia said, then added with a grin, “especially since you’ve had to endure my brother’s charming moods.”
Theodosia’s cheeks warmed at the mention of him, and her thoughts flew back to the moment in the study—the way his eyes had searched hers, unguarded. “It isn’t all bad,” she said before she could think better of it.
Olivia narrowed her eyes, clearly intrigued. But before she could press the matter, the butler appeared in the doorway and announced, “Mr. Addington has requested a moment of your time, my lady. He is in the drawing room.”
“We shall be there shortly,” Olivia replied.
With a nod, the butler withdrew. As soon as he was gone, Olivia turned back with her brow arched. “Did something happen between you and Richard?”
Theodosia offered a swift, practiced smile. “No,” she lied.She wasn’t entirely certain what had happened—but something had.
Olivia gave her a long, knowing look. “Very well. I’ll let it go… for now. But you know I always manage to uncover the truth.”
Rather than reply, Theodosia inclined her head. “Should we not go to Mr. Addington? It would be impolite to keep him waiting.”
Olivia acquiesced with a sigh. “I am terribly curious to learn what brings him here.”
They walked to the drawing room together, and as they entered, Mr. Addington stood. His expression brightened instantly upon seeing Olivia.
“Olivia,” he said warmly, bowing.
She dropped into a graceful curtsy. “Evander.”
But when his gaze shifted to Theodosia, the warmth faded noticeably. “Miss Theodosia,” he offered, with far less enthusiasm.
“Mr. Addington,” she replied with a polite nod.
He barely waited for her words to fade before turning back to Olivia. “Might I speak with you privately?”
Olivia waved her hand in front of her. “You may speak freely. Dosia is my companion and utterly trustworthy.”
He hesitated but pressed on. “You seemed upset earlier at Gunter’s. I came to ensure you were well.”
“I am perfectly fine,” Olivia said, too swiftly.
“Perhaps—but is it the truth?”
Her posture stiffened. “Yes. And I’m glad your friend has found happiness with his new wife.”
Mr. Addington stepped closer, his voice gentling. “He is no longer my friend. Not after what he did to you. We both know he had affection for you.”
“Had,” Olivia repeated firmly. “The past tense is key.”
“Olivia—”
“I appreciate your concern, Evander, but Lord Harwood is in my past. That is where he shall remain.”
