To Whisper Her Name (48 page)

O
livia knocked gently on the bedroom door, knowing Aunt Elizabeth was expecting her.

“Come in.”

Obliging, Olivia pushed open the door and caught Elizabeth’s eye in the mirror.

“Oh, Livvy, how lovely.” From the dressing table, Aunt Elizabeth motioned her closer.

Olivia came alongside Susanna, who was putting the finishing touches on Elizabeth’s hair. Susanna gave an approving wink.

“Oh.” Elizabeth ran a hand across the full skirt of Olivia’s dress. “It’s even more beautiful on, dear. I can remember, so very well, your mother wearing this. You’re right, Rachel outdid herself this time.”

“Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth. And, yes, she did.”

“And those gloves. They’re lovely too.”

Olivia fingered the delicate black lace gloves that covered the scar, though only just. At her request, Rachel had picked them up in town for her. “You look lovely this evening, Aunt.”

“Thank you, Livvy. But between you and the girls, and the general’s handsome crop of yearlings …” Elizabeth laughed. “No one will be looking at me at dinner tonight or at the auction tomorrow. Thank goodness!”

Smiling, Olivia placed a hand on her aunt’s shoulder, trying her best to mask the sense of dread building inside her. The Hardings’ twenty-six guests for the pre-auction dinner would be arriving at any time — General Percival Meeks among them. She hadn’t seen him since the dinner last fall but they’d exchanged several letters in recent months. And she had to admit that, at least on paper, Percival Meeks
actually seemed to be a thoughtful, compassionate, well-read, and intelligent man. In truth, she might have liked him … if she didn’t have to marry him.

But what had a vice-grip on her hope was the fact that Ridley was only a few days away from leaving. She’d overheard him tell Jimmy in the stable two days ago that he’d stay a few days following the auction, no more than a week, and then he’d be gone. The boy had been shadowing his steps ever since.

The image of the handsome chestnut colt came to mind, the spitting image of Jack Malone. Dauntless, Ridley had named it. And the name fit. Both the colt and its owner.

Susanna stepped back. “There you go, Missus Harding. All done up right, ma’am.”

Elizabeth reached for Susanna’s hand. “Thank you, Susanna. I know you had plenty else to do downstairs without seeing to this mess.”

Susanna eyed her. “I been fixin’ your hair for parties since I’s twelve, ma’am. I ain’t ‘bout to stop now. But I do need to get myself on downstairs.” She looked at Elizabeth in the mirror. “You need any more help, ma’am? ‘Fore I go?” she asked, her voice taking on an unaccustomed tenderness.

“Not at all.” Elizabeth made a playful shooing gesture. “Now go see to your kitchen and that wonderful dinner you’re preparing.”

Susanna left, and Elizabeth dabbed a spot of perfume behind each ear. “You’re nervous, Livvy.”

Olivia held her aunt’s gaze, wishing she could talk to her more openly about what was going on inside of her. About Ridley. But Aunt Elizabeth was firmly entrenched in General Meeks’s camp. Understandably so. So Olivia simply nodded, then turned her attention out the window to where the wrecked carriage once sat, the fragments of chopped wood and bent metal long gone. But
nervous
didn’t adequately describe the falling-forward feeling inside that caused her stomach to ache even now.

“If it helps, Livvy, I don’t think General Meeks will propose tonight, dear. Tonight and tomorrow are about the auction. My husband confided in me that Percival will be in town for several days. He’s indicated he desires to spend more time with you before moving forward.”

Again, Olivia nodded, not comforted by the news. Because whether it be tonight or days from now, the question was coming. And though she knew the answer she wanted to give, the answer she should — no,
must
— give pressed hard.

Seeing Elizabeth struggling with her necklace, Olivia helped her with it, fitting the tiny clasp inside the hook. Then she noticed …

“Aunt.” She gently took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “You’re trembling.”

“It’s nothing, dear. I’ve been having these little
tremors
, the doctor calls them, for years. They come and go. But recently, they come. It’s not painful.” She smiled. “Only frustrating.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and General Harding entered the bedroom. Then stopped almost as quickly. “My goodness,” he whispered. “Don’t you two ladies look lovely. May I escort you both downstairs? The guests should be arriving any time.”

Olivia accepted the general’s left arm. Typically, she’d have been surprised by his compliment. But the closer the auction came, the more chipper he’d become. And it wasn’t hard to understand why. The auction — but far more, her marriage — would help Belle Meade recover from the war years and become solvent again.

She walked beside him and Aunt Elizabeth until the spiral staircase turned and narrowed. Then she slipped her arm free and nodded for them to continue on. She had paused for a moment, waiting for the train of Elizabeth’s dress to clear the stairs below when she looked down into the entrance hall and saw Ridley coming through the front door.

Dashing in his suit and tie, he glanced up, saw her, and the look on his face — one of undeniable pleasure and approval — made her heart race. She gripped the banister to her right but had scarcely negotiated the next stair when he was by her side.

He wove her arm through his. “I was hoping you would wear that.” His gaze moved over her with deliberate, and welcomed, leisure. “Intoxicating yet again, Mrs. Aberdeen.”

“Precisely what I was thinking,” she whispered, catching a whiff of bayberry and spice as they descended and loving how his eyes narrowed the slightest bit.

He was clean shaven. His hair, reaching just past his collar, had grown longer than he usually wore it. But it looked good on him and was reminiscent of when she’d first seen him — all wild and untamed — that day on the road. He would fit in well in the Colorado Territory. And yet … viewing herself through his eyes, she was the furthest thing from a woman fit for such a place.

This
was her world. Empty and foreign though it felt at the moment.

When they reached the landing, he turned. “Olivia, after the auction tomorrow night, do you think we could —”

“Yes.”

Playful warning lit his gaze. “Careful. You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

His comment elicited a smile. “You were going to ask me to take a walk, were you not?”

He studied her for a moment. “More or less.”

“Then, more or less, my answer is still yes.”

The clomp of horses’ hooves and the squeak of wheels announced the arrival of their guests, and she caught the general’s glance aimed in her direction. So, apparently, did Ridley.

“Duty calls?” he asked softly.

“I’m to stand with the Harding family and greet the guests. It’s part of the official end of my mourning.”

He merely nodded, his features revealing nothing. He started to go, then paused. “Thank you again, Olivia, for everything you’ve done to make this auction come together. Same thing for inventorying the stables. I couldn’t have accomplished what I have here without you.”

His gratitude felt painfully like the beginning of good-bye. And using a skill rusty from disuse but which polished up surprisingly quick, Olivia stuffed her emotions down deep.

“You’re so welcome, Ridley. It was my pleasure.” She forced a laugh, daring to voice an ever-thinning hope. “And as I’ve said before, if the auction goes well — as we all know it will — the general might offer you a job you simply won’t be able to refuse.”

He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, not a trace of a smile touching his. “Until tomorrow night.”

Over the next half hour, standing at the end of the receiving line with Mary, Olivia greeted the Hardings’ guests and swiftly realized the road to reentering society in Nashville would be a bumpy one. If it could be navigated at all.

“Welcome to Belle Meade,” she said softly as a couple passed her in the receiving line.

The gentleman barely glanced her way before turning. The woman angled her head slightly as though about to nod, then delivered a discreet but scathing glance that caused Olivia’s face to burn.
Olivia tried again with the next couple in line, and the next, but with similar results. After a while, she simply smiled, then quickly averted her gaze so as to avoid their contempt.

Then she saw him. General Percival Meeks. Coming up the walkway. At least … she thought it was him.

“General Meeks.” General Harding greeted him with a handshake. “What an honor to have you in our home again, sir.”

“The pleasure is all mine, General Harding. I assure you.”

Though no one would describe him as svelte, the man was a shadow of his former self. Since she’d last seen him, he’d reduced his girth by close to half. And he didn’t appear sickly either. Quite the contrary. The hairy laurel he’d sported was gone too. And she had to say, bald was a vast improvement.

As he visited with General Harding and Aunt Elizabeth, the man’s focus drifted down the line and connected with Olivia’s. He smiled and nodded kindly, then returned his attention to the conversation.

“Is that the man you’re going to marry?” Mary whispered beside her.

Olivia looked at her, wishing she could answer with a resounding no, but deciding it best to respond vaguely. “We’ll see,” she whispered, then looked back to see General Meeks working his way down the line.

When he reached her, he clasped her hands in a fatherly like fashion. “My charming correspondent. How wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Aberdeen.”

Olivia offered a curtsey. “General Meeks, nice to see you again, sir.” Only then did she notice a woman following behind him. Short, a little roundish about the middle, with kind eyes.

“May I introduce Mrs. Fairbanks,” he said. “My nurse. Mrs. Fairbanks … Mrs. Olivia Aberdeen.”

Olivia nodded, not quite believing he’d brought his nurse with him. Unless he wasn’t as well as he appeared. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fairbanks. Welcome to Belle Meade.”

Mrs. Fairbanks smiled and dipped her head. “Mrs. Aberdeen, a pleasure. General Meeks speaks so very highly of you, ma’am.” Then she lowered her eyes.

General Meeks stepped closer. “I’ll explain more privately, Mrs. Aberdeen. But suffice it to say the doctor gave me an ultimatum last fall, and I chose to make some changes in my daily regimen. He assigned Mrs. Fairbanks here to assist me with those.”

Olivia nodded. “Well, sir, if I might say, the regimen seems to agree with you.”

He beamed. “Thank you. And whatever you’ve been doing most definitely agrees with you.”

Once the last of the guests arrived and were greeted, a bell sounded from the main dining room. Everyone began moving in that direction, and as Olivia did likewise, making her way beside General Meeks, she saw women glancing behind her. Again and again. Finally, curious to see what drew their attention, she turned. And couldn’t blame them one bit for their ongoing stares. Ridley Cooper was well worth a second look. And a third.

“He’s so handsome,” Mary whispered.

At that moment, Ridley glanced their way. His gaze connected with Olivia’s, and he smiled. Mary gave her a discreet nudge, and Olivia saw the glint of mischief in the girl’s eyes.

Mindful that whatever opinions Mary formed would no doubt be passed along posthaste to Aunt Elizabeth, Olivia affected a serious tone. “Mr. Cooper and I are friends,” she whispered, hoping no one else was thinking what Mary was.

Mary quirked a doubtful brow.

Olivia quickly nodded. Then, thinking better of it — and thinking, too, about all that Ridley truly did mean to her — she added, “We’re very good friends. And Mr. Cooper leaves for the Colorado Territory in one week.”

Mary’s teasing smile dimmed a little, and she nodded. But still looked far from convinced.

Following plates of fresh fruit, the main course was served and dinner conversation flourished. With General Meeks on her right and Mary on her left, Olivia did more listening than talking, which suited her fine. Ridley was seated opposite the table from her, one seat over, and she caught him sneaking looks at her, almost as often as she sneaked looks at him.