The Proletarian of Mayfair

Chapter Thirteen

"It would take a miracle to pull me away from Olivia forever."The Secret Journal of B.T.

Olivia had been waiting for this morning the entire week. How was it that an hour could change the outlook of an entire day? She needed to be near him to remember how to live and breathe and be happy. She needed joy in her life after all the blows she had received from the ton. No matter where she went or how she dressed, they did not seem to care. He would offset all the nasty words they spewed. She knew it.

She also knew she was beyond words for what she felt every time her heart beat in time with his.

"Hello?" She heard as she crept down the stairs. Olivia was as silent as a mouse. She froze until she heard someone pad away from her. Getting caught was not allowed. It was not in the plan.

If she screwed this up, she could be shipped back home like a mis-typed pamphlet her mama and papa created for this stuck-up world. Or, even worse, tied to a man that was not Benjamin Twombley.

"Be sure to stay quieter next time," Anne whispered as she opened the servant's door to let her out. Olivia let out a breath of relief the moment the door clicked shut behind her. The pressure to pull off such a feat each and every time they wished to meet would surely get to her one day. She would be caught by someone if she did not figure out how to do it better. Or, they could stop doing it entirely (either by announcing their courting to the ton or breaking things off). That was a far simpler solution.

She traversed the near-empty streets (save for a hired hack or two and the occasional messenger) until she arrived in the park. The chirping of birds and ruffling of feathers were her only company.

The sun had not made an appearance, which did not come as a surprise to any Londoner already awake. Instead, dark and gloomy clouds filled the sky with an unsettling dread Olivia could not shake. The world seemed to believe that she did not need to be joyous all the time.

She would argue that joy is integral to life. Without it, why did anyone choose to live?

As she waited, she sat in the grass and enjoyed the cool weather that graced London that day.

"Is there a spot available for me here?" She turned to see the one man she had missed for the past weeks. "I do hope so when it is next to one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

Olivia blushed when she heard Ben's compliment. More than her face flushed, not that he could see much else on that cold day.

"I know it has been a long time, but I wanted to ensure you had a good time at my mother's ball. Your dress was stunning. I would love to see you in it again." He whispered the last sentence into her ear. His lips were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. The tips of his fingers brushed the nape of her neck before trailing down her spine. Gooseflesh dotted her skin from the tip of her head to the pads of her toes.

"The ball was wonderful. Sir Crane was especially nice," she said. Everything he did to ensure she felt at ease the entire time. "Your mother did a tremendous job with the ball. The decorations were spectacular and the food impeccable."

"Do you wish it was with me?" His voice raised nearly an octave as he asked the question. Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined what it would be like to dance the night away in his arms.

She took a moment to reply. Before she did, she stood up. "I always wish it was you," Olivia said and extended her hand out to him.