Page 57 of Waiting for Love

“What do you mean?” Vanessa asked.

“Jasper has evidently hired himself a social secretary. Benjamin is bringing him to meet everyone. They should be here later tonight.”

Benjamin was returning. Tonight. Olivia held her breath a moment, then let it out slowly, glad that no one could hear the way her heart rate sped up.

Vanessa’s brow wrinkled fleetingly, with surprise or irritation or both. “A social secretary?”

Reg said, “I think it was Mother’s idea. Just for the Season.”

Mama’s idea? And Jasper had not conferred with Vanessa first? What an idiot.

Vanessa stood and smoothed the front of her gown, her face unreadable. “I’d best make Cook aware. And Mrs. Hardy. Benjamin’s apartments will need to be aired. And I suppose this…?”

“Mr. Boring.”

Vanessa’s eyebrow twitched upwards. “Mr. Boring will also need a room. If you will excuse me.”

Olivia knew she should be concerned that Mama must be worried, but there was no room in her heart for anything but joy. Benjamin would be back tonight. They would have a little more time together. A little was better than none.

Chapter Twenty

When the carriage rattled into the drive at Chaumbers, Benjamin almost shouted hurrah. Mr. Boring, whether from eagerness or nervousness, had not stopped talking for seven hours. He was a pleasant enough fellow, but if he did not learn to restrain himself…the Taverstons would likely have a bit of fun.

A memory slipped into his brain, and he snickered to himself.

Seven or eight years ago, he’d been Jasper’s guest at 8 Grosvenor Square. The old earl had a guest, too, a particularly garrulous elderly gentleman. The brothers complained amongst themselves, their jokes veering into mockery. No one wanted to sit beside him at supper and the countess grew frustrated with her sons’ ill grace—although, as Jasper pointed out, she didn’t assign herself the seat beside him either. And then, Olivia spoke up. “I’ll sit by him, Mama.”

That pleased the countess. At least Olivia had manners.

Olivia must have been ten or eleven. Too old for the nursery but too young to converse with adults. She had been relegated to the foot of the table where she behaved impeccably, meaning silently, so that she would not be banished. The countess must have seen it as the perfect solution, promoting Olivia toward the head of the table to sit by their guest. It was. But not the solution she’d envisioned.

Olivia talked the man’s ear off. Every topic he tried to introduce, she stole and ran with.

“Kensington Gardens is everywhere blooming.” Benjamin could still hear the man’s bombast.

“Yes, my lord. We were there just last week. Six days ago to be precise. The roses are particularly beautiful. I do so like roses. We have them in our garden here in London, but they never seem as brightly colorful as those at Chaumbers. I suppose it is all the soot in the air. Too many chimneys. Of course, the fires are necessary or how would we eat? We’d have to have cold meat for every meal. No, I don’t suppose even that. Cold meat does have to be cooked, doesn’t it?”

“Well, yes. Ha, ha. I suppose it does. One does like meat fresh from the country. The hams at Brownington are the best in England.”

“Oh, hams,” Olivia made a face. “I’m not fond of hams. They always taste of salt. Though I suppose that is better than tasting of pig. When one looks at a pig, one never thinks, ‘I’ll wager that tastes delicious.’ Nor cows though. Who could eat something with those gentle eyes.” She looked at her plate. Beef. “Well, let us not think of eyes. Isn’t it too bad we can’t eat flowers. Now they look delicious. Anything that smells so wonderful should be eaten. Except ladies.”

Crispin had snorted at that, covering his mouth with his napkin. But Olivia wasn’t finished.

“That was a joke, my lord. Cannibalism is a sin, don’t you agree? I learned from my governess that there were cannibals here in England back in the days of the Druids, but that doesn’t seem right to me. I’m not sure I believe half of what she tells me.”

Olivia launched into a series of lessons she had been given that were all just a little bit…off. The old man tried to interrupt more than once, but whatever he said just sent Olivia off on another tangent. It was a miracle the brothers managed to keep straight faces. The countess had looked mortified.

Benjamin wondered if Olivia had been punished for it. He did know that her brothers toasted her later in secret, because he’d been with them, laughing just as heartily.

He had always admired her. Always. But he hadn’t been waiting for her.

He stepped down from the carriage, Hannah cradled in his arms. His feet crunched the gravel as he carried her across the drive, then up the steps and into the house as carefully as if she were made of china. She had spent the first half of the journey bouncing with happiness and impatience and the second half sound asleep.

Peters met them. Seeing Hannah, his voice dropped to a near whisper. “Mr. Carroll, his lordship is in the study. He requests that you bring Mr. Boring to him. Miss Jamison and the child would be welcome in the ladies’ sitting room unless she feels it better to go to the south wing.”

Benjamin handed Hannah to Miss Jamison, who mouthed, “I had better put her to bed.”

The butler led Benjamin and Boring upstairs, which really wasn’t necessary. Benjamin would know the way blindfolded. Peters let them into the study. Jasper got to his feet.