style="font-size:15px;"> “I haven’t the faintest notion, Mary. I never even saw his face.”
“Livy,” interrupted her father in a familiar tone, the one that usually preceded a lecture. Rather than argue, she tilted her head and gave him a warm smile. “Your forbidding tone hints at more disapproval, dearest. What else have I done to displease you?”
“Work.” He spat the word out as if it were a curse. “How many times must I tell you that a well-born lady does not work. Why must you persist in this charade? I’d hoped that, after these first few weeks, you would have gotten it out of your system. It won’t do, I tell you. It won’t do.” He peered at her over the rim of his wine goblet. “Well? Have you no answer?”
Her sisters sat quietly, their heads swinging from father to daughter as if they were watching a tennis match.
Before she could respond, the duchess came to Olivia’s aid. “Livy has every right to pursue her own interests, my lord. If she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”
Olivia curbed a gurgle of laughter and fixed her eyes on her plate, knowing full well that her mother would win the day for her.
But the duke refused to give an inch. He glared at his daughter. “You’re wasting your time in an office full of common clerks and scribes. You can’t fool me, Olivia. I know the sort of work done in that office.”
“Have you been spying on me, Father?”
He ignored her question. “The fact is, your mother and I are concerned for your future. We want you to marry and raise a family of your own. Find a respectable purpose to your life. It isn’t as if you don’t have suitors, you know.”
“Your choices, Father. Not mine. Percy is sweet, but he’s a dead bore. And where, pray, did you dig up dear old Lord Wentworth? A contemporary of yours, is he? He ruined my shoes because he couldn’t see his feet over his enormous stomach. No, Father. Neither of your choices is acceptable to me. I may marry some day, but for now, I prefer to distinguish myself in my chosen career.”
“You are fit for nothing better than clerking. Do you call that a career?”
A mysterious smile stole across Olivia’s face. “You’d be surprised, Father. You’d be surprised.”
“Enough, you two,” said her mother as she rose from the table. “Come, girls. We’ll leave your father to his brandy and cigar and await him in the drawing room.” She glared at her husband and added, “Where I trust civility will reign. There will be no more of this distressful conversation.”
As was customary, Mary played the pianoforte while Georgiana turned the pages for her. Helena held a skein of silk spread taut between two hands while Olivia separated the colors for their mother. Her Grace occupied herself with her needlepoint, at the same time keeping a sharp eye on Jane. The child had an overactive sweet tooth and was much in need of supervision if she were not to grow from chubby to obese.
By the time His Grace joined the family in the drawing room, calm had been restored, just as the duchess had ordered. It stayed that way, for the duke knew enough to surrender to his wife’s rare, but ominous warnings. He settled into his favorite chair by the fire and engaged in a child’s card game of casino with Jane.
At eight, the children’s governess, Mrs. Trumball, came to escort Georgiana, Mary and Jane to bed. When the clock struck ten, Her Grace rose and said, “Time we were all in bed. Goodnight, children.”
Olivia’s abigail prepared her for bed, but Olivia had no thought of sleep. She dismissed Nancy as soon as she was able and hurried to her desk to read the letter Dunston had placed there. She broke the seal and read the official heading: OFFICE OF THE HOME SECRETARY. The letter itself was brief.
“You have been accepted into our new program.
Be prepared to leave for training in one week.
You will be notified as to time and date.”
It was signed by Viscount Sidmouth.
Olivia clutched the letter in both hands, her heart beating fast. Had she really succeeded in her quest? Yes! She tiptoed down the hall to her sister Helena’s chamber.
“Are you awake?”
“Of course I am, Livy. Do come in,” Helena’s abigail Amy was busy brushing her hair. When she waved her hand, the young woman put down the brush and disappeared.
“I was expecting you. You had that troubled frown all evening. It quite gives you away, you know. Not seemly for a would-be spy.” Her sister rose from her dressing table, moved to the divan and patted it. “Anything the matter?”
Olivia settled next to Helena and thrust the letter into her hand. “Read this.”
Helena took the letter from her. She looked up when she finished, and said, “Livy! You’ve been accepted! I’m so proud of you.”
“I wish I knew where the training academy was. I’ve never been able to find out, no matter how much I poked through the files.” Tiny rivers of tears rolled down Olivia’s cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Spies aren’t supposed to weep, Livy. Here. Wipe your tears.”
Olivia took her sister’s handkerchief and did as she was told. “I want so much to succeed, Helena.”
“You can’t mean you are afraid you might fail?”
“I’d be a fool not to face that possibility. But I’m determined to succeed. I don’t want to live a life of boredom, merely attending balls and routs and picnics and raising children and…”
Helena smiled. “You’ve made your point, my dear.”
“I want to travel the world. I want adventures.”
Helena clasped her sister’s hands in hers. “Then by all means, follow your dream, Livy.”
“Easier said than done.”
“You’ve been accepted. That’s an excellent start and you should be jumping for joy instead of wallowing in tears. What’s troubling you?”
“How am I to be ready in a week? And how shall I keep it from Mother and Father?”
Helena considered this. “You can’t keep it from them, Livy. I’d advise you to go and tell them at once.”
Olivia’s spirits sank. “Must I?”
“It would be too shabby of you if you didn’t tell them. Be brave and don’t allow Father to bully you.”
“You’re right, of course. I’ll go to them at once.” She kissed her sister on the cheek and padded down the stairs to her parents’ suite of rooms.
When she knocked on the door and entered, she glanced around the comfortable room. “Where’s Father? I had hoped to talk to you together.”
“He’s in the library, dear.”
“I need to speak to you both. It’s important, Mother.”
“Shall
