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Chapter 18
Olivia walked into the foyer of the Langley House, trying to contain her delight. A week long house party was about to unfurl, full of endless possibilities. By her side, Emma looked equally delighted, and Mama was already looking more relaxed.
They were waiting for their hosts to emerge and greet them when the front door suddenly burst open again. A man strode into the foyer, his eyes snapping impatiently. He wore a white shirt, riding britches, and high black riding boots which were splattered with mud. He was so intent on his stride that he clearly had not even noticed them and walked straight into Olivia, causing her to stagger sideways.
“Oh!” he cried, looking puzzled and horrified. “I am so frightfully sorry! How clumsy of me!” He seemed to see her for the first time. His eyes widened. “Whoareyou? My parents do not usually invite such beautiful ladies to their house parties.”
Olivia blushed fiercely. He took her arm gently, assisting her. She looked at him properly for the first time. He was average height, but muscular, with broad shoulders. He had sandy-coloured hair and laughing hazel eyes. She guessed he was probably in his mid-twenties.
“I am being impossibly rude,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face. “Please let me introduce myself. Lord Bertram Langley at your service, my lady.” He bowed dramatically. “And you are?”
“Lady Olivia Oakley,” she said, her heart beating hard. “And this is my mother, Lady Oakley, and my dear friend Miss Emma Percy.”
“Ladies,” he said, bowing again.
At that moment, an older lady with silver hair done up in a high, elaborate coif and wearing a stiff tangerine coloured taffeta gown marched into the foyer. She smiled.
“I do apologise for the delay in greeting you,” she said. “My cook was having a conniption! Such tedious domestic worries!” She smiled warmly. “I am Lady Langley. Welcome to Langley Park. And I see you have already met my son, Bertram, who really knows better than to wear his mud splattered boots into the house.” She glanced at them pointedly.
“Sorry, Mama,” said the man, looking shamefaced. “I shall take them off immediately.”
Their hostess shepherded them down a long hallway. Olivia glanced back at the gentleman. He was not taking his boots off. Instead, he was watching her intently. Olivia felt her face grow warm again. This house party was growing more interesting by the minute.
***
When she had freshened up, Olivia wandered down the staircase to the parlour, which was where Lady Langley had told them to meet after a short rest. To her surprise, there was no one else in the room yet. Her mother and Emma were taking longer in their rooms than she had anticipated. She had no idea where the other house guests were. Perhaps they were the first to arrive.
Feeling a bit odd at finding herself alone in a stranger’s house, she walked around the room, looking at everything intently. It was furnished in an opulent way, with gilt-edged, maroon velvet sofas, mahogany dressers and a grand pianoforte in the corner of the room. Atop a polished armoire, there was a row of small oil portraits in silver frames.
She picked them up, one by one, studying them. She recognised a younger looking Lady Langley. Another was of a rather bull-faced man with a florid complexion, who was possibly the host, the Viscount Sedgewick. The last miniature was Lord Bertram Langley, the gentleman with the mud splattered boots who had almost bowled her over in the foyer. His sandy hair was brighter in the painting and his hazel eyes held a glint of amusement.
“Do you think it a good likeness?” The male voice was teasing.
Olivia swivelled around, almost dropping the small portrait. Hastily, she put it back in its place. The man in the picture was standing in front of her, a big grin on his face.
She took a deep breath. “You are a bit younger in it,” she said, her heart thumping. “Your hair is lighter.”
He laughed. “Indeed. I had just turned eighteen when that portrait was done.” He scratched his head. “It seems a lifetime ago. The years really do fly by, do they not?”
Olivia laughed. “I have noticed they go quicker the older I get,” she replied. “When I was a child they seemed to take forever.”
He stared at her curiously. “I was not exaggerating in the foyer. You truly are one of the most beautiful ladies I have ever seen.”
Olivia blushed to the roots of her hair. “You are too kind, Lord Bertram.”
“Please, call me Bertie,” he said, grinning widely. “All my friends do. And you are staying here for a whole week, are you not?”
“We are,” she said, breathless. “And I am Olivia.”
“Splendid,” he said, his hazel eyes glittering. “Do you like riding, Olivia? Because I live for it. My mother says she barely knows who I am as I am so rarely in the house. The stables are my true home.”
Olivia’s heart leapt. A kindred spirit, who adored riding as much as she did. Lord Bertram was looking more attractive by the minute. She was fervently glad now that they had accepted this invitation.
“I love to ride,” she said, smiling shyly. “My mother says the same thing about me.” She hesitated. “In fact, I often sneak out to ride alone.”
She did not dare tell him that it was even worse than that. How would he react if she said she rode the countryside in boy’s clothing, to escape detection? Some things she should keep to herself. At least until she knew him better.
He laughed with delight. “I can tell already that we are going to get along famously!” He lowered his voice. “My mother has planned a welcoming morning tea, but perhaps we could just slip out to the stables before everyone else descends? Are you game, Olivia?”
