TuesdayNights (23 page)

Olivia nodded and motioned to a nearby footman. It was as if a single wag of her finger controlled the entire household at that very moment. Waiters appeared with bowls of soup, a maid seemed to come from nowhere with carafes of two different wines, and coffee was poured into dainty china cups.

“Mr. Seward, would you do us the honor of tasting the wine?” Olivia asked after she’d surveyed the table and determined that everything was in order.

Michael gave his friend an amused glance, but Edward sat up straight and replied, “Of, course, my lady.” He swirled the white wine in the glass, examined the liquid in front of the light from the candelabra, sniffed it, and finally took a small sip. “Ah,” he said with a grin. “A thirteen Chardonnay, I believe. Very good,” he stated before taking a longer drink. “I was not aware we had this in the cellar,” he commented as he picked up a soup spoon and began his first course.

Michael glanced at Olivia and cocked an eyebrow. When did she have time to order wine? he wondered. She met his gaze and gave him a small smile. “I brought a case from Sussex in my trunk,” she admitted with a nod, realizing right away that Michael knew it hadn’t come from his stock. “And your butler confirmed that you only have reds in your cellar.”

Nodding, Michael sampled the wine and seemed pleased. “Thank you for your generosity. It was most kind of you,” he said humbly.
The woman is full of surprises
, he realized, and at the rate she was going, she would have complete control of the household within the next day. If she didn’t already.

And is that really so bad? he found himself wondering. She was obviously competent, certainly more so than her elder sister would have been in the same situation.

Olivia, who had just sampled her soup, held his gaze for a moment. “I believe my dowry was rather limited, so it seemed the least I could ...”

“Your dowry was more than satisfactory,” Michael interrupted, his voice a bit too harsh. Especially given the circumstances. Indeed, Harold Waterford had been most generous when it came to settling on the dowry for his daughter. Michael’s share of their joint business ventures increased by over ten percent, its worth probably well over five thousand pounds a year, and a draft for one thousand pounds was in his hands before he left Sussex Friday.

Edward noted the sharp retort and made a note to ask his friend about it later. Seeing a break in their conversation, he asked, “Mrs. Cunningham, have you ever visited our fair city before?”

Olivia, still a bit startled by Michael’s proclamation and wanting to know more about her dowry, reluctantly turned her attention to Edward. “Several times, of course. My father comes here for business and occasionally brings the family to visit,” she answered, surveying the table to be sure all was in place.

“Do you then have family in town?” Edward prodded, noticing Michael’s grimace.

Smiling, Olivia nodded. “Indeed. Two aunts and uncles in Mayfair and some cousins in Cheapside. And my elder sister must live somewhere near here,” she finished, her attention on Michael as she mentioned her sister.

Keeping his face as impassive as possible, Michael nodded.

“Then you’ll have ladies with whom to go shopping,” Edward said brightly.

The comment had Olivia realizing she could go shopping in The Strand and Oxford Street and New Bond Street. She could borrow books from a lending library. She could walk in all the fashionable squares. Olivia tried hard to keep her sudden excitement in check and replied, “I suppose so.” This really won’t be so bad, she considered. She was living in London. In a house in a fashionable square in the West End.
I can do this.

Putting down his soup spoon, Michael leaned forward. “I shall give you some pin money so you can do just that.” He paused a moment, remembering the invitation to the Harvey ball he’d read the day before. “By the way, do you have a ball gown?” he wondered. “The Season has barely begun, and we’ve already been invited to a ball.”

Olivia didn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Has an announcement of our marriage already been printed in the paper?” she asked, swallowing hard. Her attention was diverted for a moment as she nodded to a waiter near the kitchen door.

Edward and Michael exchanged glances. “No,” they both said in unison. Edward realized her confusion. “Michael and I both received invitations to the Harvey ball, you see, and as his wife, you, of course, are included in the invitation.”

Knowing he would no longer have to fend off mothers with their would-be-bride daughters, Michael grinned as he found himself looking forward to the ball. No more would he have to endure the parade of biddable girls at every social event. No more would he have to dance with girls he had no intention of spending time with after the ball was over.

He was a married man now. He was no longer on the Marriage Mart!

Edward was another matter, though.

“Poor Edward is still not betrothed, so he will be quite popular at this year’s balls,” Michael teased happily, his mood suddenly much better. A waiter swooped in and removed his soup bowl while another waiter placed a large plate of sliced beef, gravy and potatoes in front of him. The second set of wine glasses was filled with red wine and plates of sweetmeats and fruits appeared on the table. The same dance of plates occurred in front of Olivia and Edward. In just a few seconds, the room was empty of servants and a veritable feast was spread across the table.

Stunned at both Michael’s teasing and at the quick change of courses, Edward regarded their hostess. “How ... How did you do that?” he wondered in awe. “They’ve never served us dinner like this before.”

Olivia gave him a questioning glance, not quite sure what he meant. Michael cleared his throat and said, rather proudly, “You’ll find my wife is quite adept at running a household.”

Blushing, Olivia gave her husband a small nod in response to his compliment. And how would he know that? she wondered, not sure if Michael really meant what he said. What has my father been saying about me?

“I can see that. But, tell me, Mrs. Cunningham, what would you be doing right now if you weren’t married to this rake?” Edward asked, attempting to annoy Michael.

Olivia stiffened, her face taking on a look of offense. “I’ll thank you not to refer to my husband in such terms, Mr. Seward.”

It was Michael’s turn to be stunned by his wife’s defense of him. He stared open-mouthed at Olivia but then could barely contain his amusement, especially when he saw that Edward was doing his best to suppress a grin. “I apologize, my lady,” Edward managed to get out before pressing his lips together in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

Annoyed by the mutual amusement the two men seemed be enjoying due to her rebuke, Olivia leaned back in her chair. “In answer to your question, I would be living in an estate home in Wiltshire, Mr. Seward,” Olivia said lightly. After all those weeks of working out the particulars, she’d actually been looking forward to the move to Wiltshire and to beginning her position as a governess. It was only ten days ago when she’d received the good news she’d been hired. Ten days!

So when Edward posed his simple question about where she would be if she wasn’t married to his best friend, she wanted desperately to be angry.

She opted instead for forced lightness in her reply.

“Estate home?” Michael repeated, his fork clattering on his plate. His expression changed suddenly, as if he’d just then remembered that she was to have been a governess for a ducal family. His sister’s family.

“Wiltshire?” Edward questioned when he’d just managed to avoid spraying the table with a mouthful of wine.

Olivia shrugged, remembering the butler’s reaction. “I was to be the governess for a duke and duchess’ children. I would have begun my position on the morrow,” she added as she returned her attention to the meat on her plate.

Michael’s face took on a serious expression as he considered the way in which she delivered her news. He couldn’t mistake the disappointment in the tone of her voice. Was she bitter that she was married to him when she would have been a common servant in a duchy? Was she sorry she was married to him when the alternative was so beneath her? She probably didn’t even realize that by marrying him, she had greatly elevated her social status as well as her financial standing. He would probably have more lands and a title someday. Has her father even told her how lucrative our shared business ventures are and how much her family will gain in standing and wealth as a result?

Or did Waterford keep the terms of his business deals from his family?

Like he did everything else? Michael realized just then.

“You sound .. disappointed,” he said quietly, suddenly seeing her perspective but also wondering if she intended to offend him with her remarks. For, at that moment, he felt offended.

Olivia gave a shake of her head and dabbed the edge of her lips with her napkin. “Not at all, Mr. Cunningham. I am at a bit of a loss. You see, I spent the past two years preparing to fill a certain role, and I am simply not ... I am not prepared for the role of w... wife ... just yet.”

Edward eyed Michael, his manner a bit wary. He had witnessed the look of offense on Michael’s face and wondered why, when he was sure the man had been bedding this woman’s sister for over a year, he would think that he had done Olivia some kind of favor by marrying her. Especially when her ruined reputation had been entirely due to Michael’s apparent drunken behavior. “I rather think you’re doing a remarkable job given the circumstances,” Edward announced, sending a frown in Michael’s direction as he said so.

Olivia seemed surprised by Edward’s support. “Why, thank you, Mr. Seward. I shall endeavor to learn everything I must know to ...”

But Michael ignored his friend’s comment and his facial cues. “I do hope you realize you are in a far better situation?” Michael half-asked, not sure he wanted to learn her answer.

Surprised at being interrupted, Olivia realized Michael’s mood had suddenly turned sullen. She nodded. “Of course, I do,” she assured him, realizing the tone of her comment had been misconstrued. Or had it? Do I really want to be here? she wondered for at least the tenth time that day. “I just ... I have so much to learn,” she claimed, her eyes downcast.

“Such as?” Michael prompted, not entirely convinced she realized her good fortune. And what was left for her to learn? She had probably read every book in Waterford’s extensive library and been tutored in a variety of topics. She was an educated woman. But she’d been so quiet in the coach yesterday – not at all like her sister, who chattered on about everything and nothing to the point that he nearly ignored her. Why hadn’t Olivia brought up these concerns then?

Feeling a bit defiant, Olivia angled one shoulder down and sat back. Why is he angry with me? I am not the one who got us in this situation! Thinking he was challenging her for a list, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Having not lived here in London, I do not know whom to contact regarding the details for the reception that your mother or perhaps Mr. Seward should be hosting in honor of our recent nuptials. Should it be in Richmond Park or would it be more appropriate to have a tent erected in the back yard? Is there a back yard?”

“A small one, yes,” Edward answered absently.

Olivia continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I do not know the available musicians, caterers, or florists, nor where to get chairs, tables, linens and invitations. And what of the names for the guest list? Should it be an afternoon affair or perhaps an evening dinner followed by entertainment for the ladies and a smoking room for the gentlemen? What would be an acceptable gown for me to wear to a soirée and where would I buy it? How do I get there? Is it acceptable for me to go there unchaperoned? Or will I require a paid companion? What is the household budget? With whom do I make menus? Who pays the household bills?...”

“I see your point,” Michael interrupted, holding one hand up to stave off further examples. He swallowed hard. “And please ... accept my ... apology,” he stammered, surprised at her already long list of concerns. He’d had no idea what she thought she was up against. Had no idea how out of her element she felt with the sudden move to London, with her sudden marriage to him. “I ... We have a butler who sees to much of what we’ve required as a bachelor household. Forgive me for not remembering what a ... larger household requires.” What a marriage requires, he almost said.

Even though she didn’t know who to contact for all the things she mentioned, Michael had no doubt she would learn, and quickly. And what about a companion? Perhaps she could take a maid. Did she really require one if there was a footman and a groom with her when she was in his barouche or coach? “There is a carriage you may use when you wish to go shopping, of course. Just let Jeffers know, and he will see to a tiger and footman.”

Olivia nodded as she considered his apology and offer of the carriage. “Thank you.” After a pause, she added, “And how should I address you?”

Michael took a drink of wine and pondered the question. Eloisa always called him ‘Cunningham’, which was well and good for their situation. But what should Olivia call me? he wondered. He finally smiled. “You should call me ‘Michael’, of course,” he answered, deciding he didn’t care for the more formal name when she spoke it.

“And when we’re in public?” she prodded. “Should I refer to you as ‘The Honorable Michael Cunningham’? Or simply ‘Cunningham’?”

Michael stared at her for only a moment, trying to keep the look of surprise from his face. Now, who the hell told her I was the son of a viscount? he wondered, surprised at her question. Did her father tell her? “How long ... How long have you known?” he countered quietly, a look of guilt crossing his face. It might have been the first time in his life he was ashamed to be the son of an aristocrat.

Olivia drew her eyebrows together and wondered at his odd reaction. “Since yesterday afternoon. Jeffers mentioned it when I asked who else uses the bedchamber to which I have been assigned.”

His eyes downcast, Michael shrugged. “My father’s viscountcy is merely that. He is not the son of an earl.” He thought of the rest of her comment just then. The bedchamber to which she’d been assigned? Damn! Which room did Jeffers take her to?