Page 26 of Anastasia and the Duke
As Hannah watched the card shrivel and burn to nothing, she tried valiantly to harden her heart against all the emotions which now filled that which had once been empty. For, though she felt pulled in all directions, there was only one path she could take.
The path which would lead her and Nan to a new life and take her away from Lady Lansdowne, Hawkfield, and the belief that there was some good within her.
Chapter Eight
Though Oliver had not been expecting a reply to the flowers he had sent to Miss Blackmore, he had been expecting that they might have ingratiated him well enough with the chit to warrant a conversation at least, the next time that they met.
Lucky for Oliver, he had engineered himself an invitation to Lady Darlington'smusicale, which he was informed Miss Blackmore would be attending, so that said conversation might happen sooner than she might expect.
Unluckily for Oliver, after sitting through two hours of Lady Darlington's tone-deaf daughters' attempts at making music--though to call it music was really a stretch of the imagination--he realised that Miss Blackmore was not in attendance.
As Lady Darlington announced an intermission--to many muted whispers of dismay that there was to be a second half--Oliver spotted Lady Lansdowne seated by a large potted ficus, very much alone.
He debated waiting a moment before approaching her, to give the illusion that he had some sort of restraint when it came to Miss Blackmore, but immediately conceded defeat to the motion. He had sat through two hours of torture; if he delayed any longer, he might have to sit through another two.
"Hawkfield," Lady Lansdowne called, rather loudly, as Oliver approached, "How lovely to see you. I'm afraid Miss Blackmore is not here."
For some unknown reason, Lady Lansdowne was speaking at the same volume a bellman might use to call out a Royal Proclamation to a crowd of hundreds. Oliver stifled a blush, as every eye in the room turned towards the pair, and seeing his look of chagrin, Lady Lansdowne gave a rueful chuckle.
"Excuse me," she whispered, in tones far more reasonable, "I always come prepared to one of Lady Darlington's recitals.
Oliver watched in fascination, as the countess discreetly removed two wool earplugs from her ears and hid them in her reticule.
"So, I am not the only one who fails to appreciate the nuanced playing of the Darlington girls," he observed, wryly.
"Nuanced?" Lady Lansdowne shuddered, "A stampeding herd of cattle would press the keys more subtly than they. Thank heavens they are in possession of such fine dowries; if the stars align, they might find some poor soldiers made deaf by cannon fire who can bear to listen to them."
As it was not gentlemanly for Oliver to agree with such a harsh--but true--assessment of the talent of the three ladies of the house, he simply hid a smile, and allowed Lady Lansdowne to continue.
"Now," she said, patting down her skirts, "I know you're far too polite to feign any ulterior motive for approaching me, but I am too advanced in years to tolerate such silly chivalry. Miss Blackmore is not here; you are free to make your escape. You do not even need to fetch me a glass of ratafia on your way, for my maid is already taking care of that task."
"Oh--I wasn't..." Oliver began to protest, but one shrewd look from Lady Lansdowne silenced him.
"Is she quite well?" Oliver asked, abandoning his yoke of pride to give in to his desire to learn more of Miss Blackmore.
"She took a chill earlier; the footman tells me she insisted on driving all the way to Cheapside with the top down on the Barouche."
Lady Lansdowne shuddered and Oliver guessed that, much like his own grandmother, she viewed a cold breeze as a greater enemy than Napoleon himself.
"Is she expected to make a quick recovery?" Oliver pressed, a sudden feeling of protectiveness stealing over him, "I can send my physician to check her over--he's the best of the best."
"Funny," Lady Lansdowne gave a smile, "My own physician claims that title too. Your concern is touching, Hawkfield, but Miss Blackmore was almost recovered by the time I left. In fact, she offered to accompany me, but I refused; the poor girl has suffered enough for one day."
"Ah-ha, yes," Oliver gave an awkward bark of laughter, which again drew the eyes of the mingling guests.
Lud, but he was making an ass of himself.
"The Viscount Sotheby is holding a rout tomorrow," Lady Lansdowne continued, taking pity on him, "We can be expected to attend."
"Yes, well,perhapsI shall see you both there," Oliver blustered, putting a heavy emphasis on the word perhaps in case Lady Lansdowne might be fooled into believing him ambivalent.
"I would bet money on it," came the astute reply.
Blushing now, Oliver bid the countess a hasty goodbye, hoping to slip out unnoticed before the second half was called.
Double doors led from the morning room to a parlour room, where liveried footmen darted this way and that, with trays of sparkling wine. Judging by the speed with which they replaced empty glasses with full ones, Oliver deduced that the guests were taking to alcohol to dull the impact of the Darlington girls' next attack on their eardrums.
"Hawkfield," Lady Darlington swept out of nowhere to capture his attention, "How good of you to come. Are you enjoying yourself?"
