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Chapter 27
Olivia sat in the drawing room with Emma. Her friend was embroidering and she was sketching. But every now and then, she felt Emma’s gaze upon her. Eventually, Olivia sighed, putting down her paper and pencil.
“Emma, what is it?” she asked. “You look like you are going to burst.”
Her friend had a high colour, now that Olivia looked at her properly. And her eyes were shining so bright that for a brief moment Olivia felt scared, thinking her friend was falling ill.
“Oh, Olivia, I promised not to say anything,” she said, biting her lip. “Not until we officially announce it. But I swear I cannot keep it to myself a minute longer. And especially not fromyou, my dearest friend.”
Olivia gaped at her. “What? What has happened?”
Emma laughed with joy. “I am betrothed,” she said, her eyes shining even brighter. “Harold proposed to me! And I said yes!”
“Harold?” Olivia was momentarily confused. “Do you mean Lord Turnbury?”
“Yes,” said Emma, rolling her eyes. “Who else? Of course, we are on first name terms now.”
“Oh, my Lord!” cried Olivia, leaping out of the chair, almost flinging herself at her friend. “But…this is wonderful news! I am so happy for you!”
They hugged fiercely. Olivia blinked back tears. This was her dearest friend in the world and she was getting married. The joy was indescribable.
“Tell me everything,” she demanded, pulling back to look at Emma. “I want every detail.”
Emma laughed again. “Well, I was not expecting it,” she said, shaking her head incredulously. “It happened at the Turnbridge’s garden party. He asked me to take a turn around the gardens and as soon as we were alone, he dropped to one knee. He gave me a ring, Olivia. I cannot wear it yet, until the announcement, but it is so beautiful I just want to die.”
Olivia thought quickly. “The Turnbridge’s garden party? But that was three days ago! How have you kept this secret from me all this time?”
Emma took her hand. “Harold wants to do everything properly. He rode to my home to seek Papa’s permission. My father gave it, but we are not officially announcing it until the end of the week.” She took a deep breath.
“I simply cannot believe it, Olivia. Harold is a nobleman, and I am just the daughter of a physician. I have no dowry to speak of. I am poor and obscure. He could have chosen anyone…but he choseme.” Her voice was filled with wonder.
“Of course, he chose you,” said Olivia, her voice breaking with emotion. “He chose you because you are the sweetest, most charming lady in the world. It does not matter what your background is. Not to a gentleman like him. Besides, the Turnburys are wealthy beyond measure. He has no need of your dowry, dearest. He is free to marry for love.”
“Hedoeslove me,” said Emma, in the same incredulous voice. “He declared it. He said I had made him the happiest man in the world.” She took another deep breath. “And I love him as well, Olivia. I think my heart is going to burst with it.”
Olivia was crying, now. “Oh, that is so beautiful! You found your love match! And what a catch he is, Emma. Charming, handsome, clever, and wealthy. You are going to have a very happy life indeed.” But then, her face dropped a little. “Oh, but his house is so far away. The Turnburys live in Somerset. Unless you are planning to live in London?”
“Even better,” said Emma, tears running down her face as well. “Harold says he is going to purchase a house in Kent. I will be living close to you, Olivia! We can still see each other often.”
Olivia hugged her friend tightly to hide her face. She did not know how to tell her that perhaps they would not be living so close. For if she married Bertie, they would be living at Langley Park, which was on the other side of London to Kent. She would not be living at Essington Manor anymore. She would not be close to her friend.
She took a deep breath. She would not mention it now. This was Emma’s special moment, and she wanted her friend to enjoy it. Besides, even though she was almost certain Bertie would propose any day now, she could not be entirely sure, could she?
But she was still determined to accept him if he did. Her mind might be a tumbled mess of confusion thanks to Captain Fletcher, but she would be an utter fool to turn down a man like Bertram Langley because of that confusion. Bertie was a catch, just like Harold Turnbury. And there was nothing of significance between her and Captain Fletcher anyway. It was not as if they were in love, even if the man did make her heart race with desire.
But you do not love Bertie, whispered a small voice in her head.You are not head over heels in love with him, like Emma is with her fiancé. And you always said you wanted a love match, Olivia.
Captain Fletcher does not love you. He does not want to marry you. Do not forget those compelling reasons that it is an impossibility, Olivia.
She sagged a little. Why did that thought inexplicably sadden her?
“You know, I think you shall be making an announcement of your own very soon,” said Emma, interrupting her reverie. “Lord Bertram is sure to propose any day now. We all know it.”
“Yes,” said Olivia, in an uncertain voice. “I think he might.”
Emma frowned. “The thought of that does not fill you with joy? I thought you were deliriously in love with him, Olivia. You certainly spend every moment you can with him. And you have often said that you will accept him.”
“I know,” said Olivia, in a mournful voice. “But now…I am not so certain, Emma.” She hesitated. “He does not make my heart sing. We have no passion for each other. He kisses me like a wet fish. I am very fond of him and think we could have a good life together, but there is nothing more to it than that.”
