“I would,” answered Olivia. “Very much so.”
“Excellent! Then it’s settled.” She sliced off another bit of the tart. “I shall also host a small gathering afterward at our townhouse, to toast what I am sure will be a resounding success.”
“You have great confidence in me,” murmured John.
Cecilia considered the statement for the space of a heartbeat before replying coyly, “I trust you won’t disappoint me.”
“A breakneck chase, a night spent on the moonlit moors, a daring rescue.” Caro heaved a soulful sigh.
“Not to speak of a dashing hero,” added Anna dryly, “who coolly shoots the pistol out of one villain’s hand, then flattens the other with his fists.”
“How frightfully romantic,” exclaimed Caro.
“Ha! Don’t wax poetic over the perils,” chided Olivia. “We weren’t exactly waltzing through the wilds. Unrelenting worry over Prescott, bone-jarring fatigue, and gnawing hunger were our constant companions. Not to speak of the danger that the earl’s reputation might suffer if he were spotted with a lady.”
“And yours?” asked Anna.
Olivia gave a dismissive wave. “Mine didn’t matter. But Wrexham’s effectiveness in Parliament could have been damaged by scandal.” Suddenly aware of how selfish that sounded, she bit her lip. “I—I didn’t mean that the way it come out. I am aware that my actions have an impact on you and Caro. Be assured that I—that is, we—were exceedingly careful.”
“Caro and I aren’t worried about ourselves, Livvie,” replied Anna. “We are worried about you.”
Her youngest sister added a loud assent.
“You set off on a very perilous adventure and though the way was fraught with dangers, you came through it unscathed,” went on Anna. “I couldn’t have written a more riveting plot…er, would you mind if I borrow the dancing-in-the-moonlight scene?
“Feel free,” said Olivia, giving silent thanks that the sisterly passion for the written word was diverting attention from further probing into her own private feelings. Luckily, she hadn’t mentioned the fact that both she and the earl were bare-arsed at the time.
“However,” mused Anna, “I might embellish it with bit of exotic spice. Readers tend to need outrageously exaggerated emotion to hold their interest.” She pursed her mouth in thought. “Perhaps—”
“Oh, I have it! Your hero and heroine should be dancing naked in the silvery light of the full moon,” chimed in Caro. “I could compose a song that they could sing to the stars.”
“Because shimmying through the midnight shadows without a stitch of clothing on isn’t outrageous enough?” asked Olivia.
“Literary creations require a flair for Drama,” replied Caro loftily.
“Well, I would be quite happy to settle for a bit of mundane boredom in real life.”
“Oh, pffft, what fun is that?” muttered Caro.
A sharp tap, tap cut short the exchange. Anna set down her pen and pressed her fingertips together. “Much as this discussion of literary inspiration is fascinating, let us not take a side turn from the path of my original point.”
Olivia chuffed a martyred sigh.
“Which was?” queried Caro.
“The direction in which Olivia’s life is headed,” intoned Anna with a note of seriousness that did not bode well for what was coming.
“Actually, I’d rather not go down that road right now, if yo
u don’t mind,” she responded quickly.
“Ha! I knew you would respond with a clever quip. Of the three of us, you are the sharpest, both with your brain and with your tongue.”
“That’s not entirely true—”
“Yes, it is,” confirmed Caro.
“You are scathingly witty, and frightfully observant,” went on Anna. “And you use your intellect to remain detached from passion.”