Leah’s eyes misted. “We adore her. We cannot be without her.”
“We are thankful to you too,” Anna added quietly, “for protecting her.”
“None of you might ever know motherhood, but that is what a mother does,” Laura said, pausing. “No, that is not quite right. Having seen you all together, I believe that is what we, as women, do. We protect. We comfort. And though we are often called emotional or hysterical, I rather think that emotion is our power. It is what allows us to close our ranks around those in need, it is what allows us to show our might when it matters.”
Leah chuckled. “Lady Canrave, if I did not know any better, I would think you were starting to become a revolutionary.”
“Oh, I do not know about that.” Laura blushed. “I have never revolted against anything.”
Leah shrugged. “There is always time…”
Just then, the carriage finally reached the grand entrance of the castle—a set of double doors, twice the height of any person passing through, that stood at the top of wide, shallow stone steps decorated with sprays of white flowers. Climbing roses twisted in an arch across the vast doorway, blooming in pinks and whites and reds. The sight of them took Olivia back to the Westyork rose gardens.
One day,she told herself,I will see and smell roses, and I will not think of him.
“Shall we?” her mother asked, offering an arm as the footman opened the carriage door.
Olivia took her mother’s arm. “Yes, Mama, I think we shall.”
“There they are!” came an excited yelp, as the four passengers of the carriage stepped down onto the pearly white gravel.
Matilda and Phoebe appeared out of nowhere, throwing their arms around their friends, until all five girls and Olivia’s mother were crushed together in a fond embrace of joy and laughter. The rowdy behavior drew some sharp looks from other guests, but none of the women within that circle of affection cared a jot.
“My goodness, Olivia,” Phoebe said, stepping back and unleashing a low whistle that drew some more disapproving looks. “You might have saved some radiant beauty for the rest of us!”
Olivia blushed furiously. “It is an old gown.”
“It is ravishing!” Phoebe crowed.
“Well,” Matilda interjected, “thisisour dear Olivia’s defiant return to society. Of course, she must look the part of a phoenix, risen from the ashes of all the unworthy men she has burned with her wit and wisdom and beauty.”
Olivia thought her cheeks might burst into flames. “Just one man. Please, do not begin a new rumor about me being a scourge upon the whole of gentlemen-kind.”
“Strange, though, that the scandal sheets have painted you as some sort of righteous warrioress,” Matilda said, tilting her head. “Of course, that is what you have always been to us, but I cannot fathom why those wretched pages should suddenly begin to stand in support of wronged ladies.”
Leah puffed out a tight sigh that spoke of her own painful history. “Let us think of it as a victory for womankind. Perhaps, it is a sign of better things to come, and greater sympathy for the fairer sex.” She grinned. “Indeed, let us find ourselves a cup of punch and toast to that.”
With all the ladies in agreement, they made their way up the polished stone steps and swept through the grand entrance, handing over their invitations as they passed into the entrance hall. Merry music and a tide of chatter greeted them, as well as the softer babble of gossip, whispered into the ear of friends.
Olivia had known that her presence might cause something of a stir and braced herself for the harsh remarks. But before she could hear too much from those gathered in the entrance hall, her mother and her friends were ushering her down the long, cavernous hallway to where the music originated.
She passed by a few whispering women, but the words she heard were not unkind at all, unless she was mishearing.
“I wish I had possessed the courage to do the same,” someone said.
“Better to be unmarried than trapped with a traitor,” said another.
“A fine example for all young ladies,” a third declared.
Olivia bowed her head, wishing she could stick her fingers in her ears and not hear any of it at all, for though she appreciated their kinder words, they did not know what she knew. They did not know that Evan was not a rake at all, and despite what he had done, she could not fully suppress the desire to tell them that they were mistaken. Her poor, broken heart longed to defend him, even now.
Making their way into the refreshment room—an entire hall dedicated to drinks and delicacies, everything laid out upon seemingly endless tables—Olivia’s friends hurried toward the punch bowl, while Olivia hung back with her mother, wondering if she had ventured back into society too soon.
“Are you well?” Laura asked, peering at her daughter with a look of grave concern. “You have gone quite pale.”
Olivia forced a smile. “It is the lack of sunlight. I told you I look less like a sickly waif when I have allowed the sun to brown my skin, but you would not believe me.”
“If it is too soon,” her mother insisted, “we can return home. I shall summon the carriage at once.”
