The Fifth Kiss (26 page)

For a few days she mulled over the problem, but at last, after another dinner during which the only conversation had been the irritating exchanges between Eugenia and Hattie, she felt she could stand it no longer. She went to the library where Strickland had, every evening, been secluding himself and knocked at the door. Invited to enter, she found him packing a number of ledgers and papers into a carrying case. “What is this?” she asked in surprise. “Are you packing?”

“Yes,” he said, not pausing in his work. “I had intended to inform you before you retired for the night. I am leaving for London in the morning.”

Olivia felt her heart sink. “But … why? Has something happened?”

“No, nothing out of the way. I have some business to take care of that I've been putting off for too long. And I want to find a new tutor for Perry. And there are a few other matters which need attending.”

“But what about the children? Won't they be disturbed by your absence?”

“No, I don't think so. I spoke to them about it this afternoon, and they were quite complaisant, especially when I promised to bring back an armload of surprises for them. Amy was quite easily persuaded to part with me as soon as I promised to bring her a strand of red beads.”

Olivia had to smile. “She's developed quite a passion for beads of late. She loves to put three or four strands around her neck and admire herself in her glass. Beads will be the very thing for her. But was Perry equally agreeable?”

“Yes, he was. He says he'll surprise
me
when I return by showing me how much his riding has improved in my absence.”

“I hope you're not pushing him too hard in his riding, Miles. We don't want him jumping over fences before he's ready,” Olivia said, frowning.

“You needn't worry,” Strickland answered mildly. “I've warned Higgins to keep a close watch on him when he goes out.”

“Well, you seem to have taken care of everything,” Olivia muttered in some asperity, “and without consulting
me
at all.”

He looked up at her with eyebrows raised. “You sound as if you disapprove, my dear. But I don't understand you. Didn't you yourself, not two weeks ago, suggest that I return to London and use my influence to obtain the release of Leigh Hunt from imprisonment?”

“Yes, but you told me in no uncertain terms that you believed he
deserved
to be imprisoned for insulting the Regent in print.”

“I said, ma'am, that the
Regent
believed so. I, myself, believe that Prinny was mistaken to have taken the nonsense so seriously.”

“Then you
will
help him?” Olivia asked, gaping at Strickland with pleased surprise.

Strickland gave a quick, snorting laugh. “You flatter me, my dear, if you believe my influence with the Prince is so strong. I
shall
, however, speak to his highness if the opportunity arises. I may even pay a call on Hunt in the gaol. But beyond that, I can promise you nothing.”

Olivia felt a surge of pleasure. When she had first discussed the plight of the much-abused Hunt brothers, Strickland had been completely indifferent. “They have abused the freedom of the press” he'd said, “and I have little sympathy for them.” Had she managed to convince him to take a more moderate view of the matter? Could she have had an influence on him after all? “You promise a great deal, Miles. I'm very grateful.”

Strickland shrugged. “I'm not going to London for the sake of the Hunts, you know. And it is extremely unlikely that I can do
anything
for them. So your gratitude is completely misplaced.”

“I quite understand that you're not making such a trip entirely on their behalf, but—”

“I'm not making it
at all
on their behalf.”

Olivia met his eye challengingly. “I hope you are not making the trip because of
me
, Miles.”

“Now,
why
, my dear, should I do
that
?”

She looked down at the floor. “I remember, when Clara was alive, you always used to take to your heels the moment I arrived.”

He glanced at her quizzically and then turned to the table and began to fiddle with his papers. “You exaggerate, Olivia,” he said brusquely. “And even if I did so then, you surely cannot believe I would do so
now
. I hope you realize that I'm quite sensible of the fact that you are making a considerable personal sacrifice to stay here with the children, and I shall always be grateful to you for it, even if I seem remiss in expressing that gratitude. And I would not run off and leave you in sole charge of them if it were not necessary.”

“I see. Then it is not because of me that you're going?”

“No, of course not. What reason have I given you to suspect such a thing?”

“Well … you
are
angry with me, aren't you?”

He looked over his shoulder at her in surprise. “Not at all. Why should I be?”

She flushed. “I … I
slapped
you …”

He blinked for a moment in bewilderment and then burst out in a laugh. “Yes, you did, didn't you?” He rubbed the cheek in painful recollection. “It was, as my pugilist friend, Jeremy Jackson would say, ‘a right smart blow.' And one that I completely deserved.”

“No, no! I should never have—”

“You most certainly
should
have, my dear.” He came up to her in two long strides and lifted her chin with his hand. “I was unforgiveably rude, and no young woman of spirit could have been expected to ignore it. Don't ever apologize, girl, for the spark of fire you have within you. It sets you quite above the ordinary, you know.”

Olivia stared up at him in astonishment. He had never said such a thing to her before. Her heart seemed to swell inside her chest in pleasure. His eyes were fixed on hers with a compelling, if enigmatic gleam, and she wondered with a little thrill of alarm if he intended to kiss her as he'd done once before in this very room. A hot surge of blood rushed up to her face as she realized with shame that there would be nothing she'd like more than having him sweep her into his arms as he'd done before.

But he did no such thing. Instead, he seemed to react to her unmistakable blush with a shudder of self-reproof. He dropped his hand from her cheek and turned away abruptly. “Run along to bed now, my dear,” he said in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. “I'll never finish going through these papers if we stand here speaking nonsense.”

So the bubble inside her burst, her pulse regulated itself, and the joyful feeling in her chest dissipated like perfume sprayed in the wind. He was going away; that was the only reality that had come from all these words. And the fact of his going was more depressing to her spirit than she'd ever expected. “You
have
spoken a great deal of nonsense, Miles,” she said glumly as she went to the door, “but you haven't told me the real reason why you're going away.”

“You'll know in due time.” He kept his eyes on the papers he was stacking into a neat pile.

She paused in the doorway. “I wouldn't be at all surprised if your reason is to make a cowardly escape from the company of your aunt and my cousin. If that
is
your dastardly plan, my lord—if you are leaving me to cope with Hattie and Eugenia all by myself—I shall concoct a most devastating revenge. I shall find a way to coax them to live with you
forever after
, and then I shall run off and leave them to you!” And with that parting shot, she left him to his packing.

chapter eighteen

Olivia and Perry were perched atop the stone wall which divided the upper South slope from the lower South field, watching Amy trundle a toy wheelbarrow about on the winter-faded grass. The boy and his aunt were having one of their frequent “serious” talks. It was an unusually balmy day for early March, and Olivia had decided to permit the children to spend part of the afternoon in the open air, for they had just endured several weeks of cold and depressing rain. While Amy's goloshoes squelched through the soggy grass behind her little red barrow, Perry and Olivia swung their legs in the air and held their faces up to drink in the sun's faint warmth. “If I were truly Gorgana,” Olivia said, “I would devise an enchanted spell which would make every day just like today.”

“If
I
were Gorgana,” Perry argued, “I would make it
snow
every day. I
love
the snow.”

“Really?” Olivia asked, turning to study him. “Why?”

“Because it's such great fun. You can play in it, and make snowballs and build forts—”

“Like the fort you and your father built during the last snowfall?”

“Yes. That was the best snow fort I ever saw, wasn't it, Aunt Livie?”

“The best. Did you like building it?”

“Oh, yes, more than anything!”

“And did you like having your father help you with it?”

“Yes, I truly did.” The boy pouted suddenly. “I wish he was at home. When will he be home, Aunt Livie?”

“Soon, I think. And you'll show him how well you are riding, and you'll tell him all you've learned about the Plantagenets, too.”

“And even the Tudors,” Perry added proudly. “I hope he comes before I forget. Do you know, Aunt Livie, when I was a little boy, I was afraid of Papa?”

“Were you, dearest?”

“Yes. Very. He seemed to be so huge, you know. Like the giant on top of the beanstalk. And he always seemed so very angry, too.”

“Did he indeed?”

“I suppose he seemed so because I was smaller then. But it's all right now that I've grown.”

“I'm glad. It doesn't do to be afraid of
anyone
, Perry, love. There are no
real
giants, you know. Not on top of beanstalks or anywhere else.”

“I know.” Perry sighed philosophically. “There are no monsters, either. Or ghosts. Only in people's minds, like Sir Budgidore.”

“Do you mean to say that you
understand
that Sir Budgidore was only imaginary?”

“Oh, yes. I
always
understood that. It's just that I could see him, sort of. Almost real, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, love. Do you miss him now that he's gone?”

“Not very much. After we had that ceremony for him, I stopped thinking much about him. Do you suppose he's gone to the special place where Mama has gone and that they can
both
watch over us?”

Olivia put an arm around his shoulder and hugged him. “No one knows the answers to such questions, dearest. But it's lovely to think so.”

Perry's father had been absent almost six weeks when this conversation took place. It had been a time of considerable change for Perry. Olivia had been quite concerned for the boy. His tutor had gone first, and Olivia had noted that Perry had seemed to be very upset by Mr. Clapham's departure. She readily sympathized with the boy's feelings, but after a bit of thinking she began to understand what had been the real cause of the boy's distress. Perry, shaken by the events of the past year, had developed a tendency to cling to routine. He liked everything to stay the same. He clung to the familiar—to
people
he was accustomed to and to
schedules
he had come to expect. Change was threatening to him. Change meant loss.

Olivia, mulling over the matter, knew that Perry would not be able to live a life without change. No one could. Things and people changed all the time; there was no way to prevent it. Therefore Perry would have to learn to accept it. For that reason, Olivia tried to shake him from routine. Some days she would tutor him in his studies at the scheduled hours, but often she would surprise him by calling off the lessons completely. Sometimes she permitted him to sleep late, and sometimes she woke him early enough to watch the sunrise. Sometimes she and Elspeth and Amy spent the entire day with him, and sometimes she encouraged him to spend almost the entire day on his own, to devise his own ways of passing the time.

It was not until Elspeth left for London, however, that Olivia could determine how well her plan was working. For several weeks, Elspeth had been training the maid, Tilda, to take her place. Tilda was only nineteen, and she had not received the kind of education that Elspeth had, but she was warmhearted, cheerful and had had several years of schooling at a charity school in Leicestershire where she'd been raised. She could read remarkably well, and she wrote in a fine hand. If she could not give Amy lessons in music or drawing, it was not a great problem. Music and drawing masters could be hired later. And when Perry's new tutor would arrive, he could no doubt instruct Amy in those subjects in which Tilda was deficient. The primary trait which Olivia and Elspeth agreed was needed in the governess who would replace Elspeth was loving warmth, and that Tilda possessed in good measure.

Elspeth longed to return to London, but she would gladly have postponed the gratification of her desires indefinitely if the children needed her. Olivia, however, did not think that an indefinite postponement of Elspeth's departure would help the children to learn to face the vicissitudes of life. About two weeks after Strickland's departure (Olivia having noted that both Perry and Amy seemed reasonably content in
his
absence), Olivia convinced Elspeth that it was time for her to take her leave.

To Olivia's great relief, Perry bid the governess a fond goodbye without the slightest sign of inward distress. The boy had, in fact, taken a strong liking to Tilda because of her carefree manner and easy laughter and was thus able to say goodbye to Elspeth without pain. It was the placid, easy-going
Amy
who surprised Olivia. The child did something she had never done before—she threw herself down on the floor of the nursery and screamed, “I want my Elthpeth! I want my
Elthpeth
!” She kicked her chubby legs up and down and pounded her little fists on the carpet, wailing and weeping furiously.