Only Olivia

Chapter Three

Lord Dryden greeted her in Italian. His knowledge of the language was spotty, having not used it since his Grand Tour.  

Without hesitation, she replied in fluent Italian, devoid of any pesky English accent. Then she continued to talk, hazel eyes glancing up at him. It was all, well, Italian to him. He did not understand a word. He nodded along anyway. Her quiet voice spun a magic web of nonsense. It mattered not. Philip would have stood there all night listening to her speak.  

She appeared like a vision in a confection of yellow satin. The colour did wonders for her dusky complexion and lit up her hazel eyes. Her arms and neck were bare of any jewelry and her hair was dressed in a simply fashion with a few loose tendrils framing her face. He had approached her determinedly when she tossed a shy smile his way.  

He was wrecked. She was perfect. It had been, what, three days since he first happened upon her in the library. Cat had done all she could to throw them together. Olivia had managed to avoid all traps until tonight. 

Uh-oh. Her wide eyes narrowed and the corner of her lips drooped. She sipped from her glass of ratafia. 

"You do not understand a word I am saying," accused Olivia, slipping effortlessly back into his native tongue. 

"I-I most certainly...that is to say that...well..." he paused. Philip hung his head. "I stopped understanding after you returned my greeting," he admitted. 

"Whyever would you speak to me in Italian then?" 

"Cat mentioned to me your skills and I was curious. Many governesses list talents such as fluency and can barely introduce themselves in said language." Her eyes narrowed even more. Philip cleared his throat. "It appears I have been proven wrong. May I ask how you became fluent in so many languages without having left the country?" 

Olivia reached up a hand to smooth down her hair. In the daylight it was deep brown. The candlelight threaded golden strands into her locks. Not that she knew. But he would tell her one day.  

"Miss Clearwater has always been supportive in my studies. Around age five, I was speaking French fluently after perusing the textbooks and pestering the French teacher for help. Then she took me to a bookstore in Bath and allowed me to pick out books. Next was Italian. Then Greek and then Latin. That is how I learned all that I know. From books. I cannot attend schools like men, so I had to make do with what was offered to me." 

"I think you did well indeed. I cannot think of a single acquaintance of mine who could match you as a scholar."  

"I am sure you are mistaken," she demurred. There was a proud edge to her voice that acknowledged the truth of his words.  

"Do you always plan on being a governess?"  

"Someday I may get married," she considered. "If I find a man of my class."  

"Marriage is not everything," he commented. Olivia's eyes shot back up to his face. He quickly added, "I am married." She looked away, surveying the room. Lord and Lady Baynes were seated near the fire, conversing in quiet voices. Caroline and Lizzy had been put to bed before dinner. They bemoaned their lot in life all the way to their suite of rooms.  

"I take that it was not a love match." Her voice wavered as she spoke. Olivia was desperate to know the answer. This silly infatuation was only a few days old. Her heart wanted to reach out and possess all that he was. It must have been his smile. It had to be.  

"No," he said. But the smile was gone from his face. "I was summoned from my Grand Tour early because my father was dying. He still managed to blackmail me into marriage while fighting for his life. We were married within days. She stays in London. I prefer the country so I do not appear a cuckhold in society."