Chapter 4

"You educate a man; you educate a man. You educate a woman; you educate a generation." Brigham Young

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Chapter Four

Olivia sat quietly in the carriage and fiddled with the cuff of the men's shirt she was wearing. It really was quite a comfortable garment, despite being quite the wrong fit. The breeches, too, were quite practical. She supposed, though, that she would have to abide by some of society's rules. It would be back to dresses tomorrow.

What had she done today? Olivia had stolen some of her grandfather's older, smaller garments and has masqueraded as a man at the county election. She had been caught, as she had expected to be.

What had she achieved today? Olivia hoped her actions would start conversation. Elected MP's were just as answerable to their female constituents as they were to the men.

But not so deep down inside, Olivia knew that they all thought she was ridiculous. A silly, rich girl with nothing better to do than throw a tantrum and break the rules without fear of consequence. Rich parents ensured that girls like her would never face a court of law.

Olivia could not ever remember not feeling strongly for the oppressed or the disadvantaged. It was in her nature to help where she could. It was customary for rich families to take a basket of food now and again to poor families, but it never seemed like enough to Olivia.

Olivia grew up with parents who resented her for her sex. They later resented her for much more, but it had started with her gender. Before Olivia could understand land laws and titles, she often wondered what was so wrong with being a girl.

And so she had come across the book: Declaration of the Rights of Woman and of the Female Citizen. Not so much stumbled across as hunted for literature referencing the benefits of being a girl. Instead of finding benefits, Olivia truly came to understand that in this world, women were secondary, inferior to their male counterparts. It was a disadvantage to be female.

Perhaps it was Olivia's natural stubborn character, but she would not simply carry on in such a way. She endeavoured to help those around her. She used funds from her own dowry to fund a teacher's salary for the village children. She donated her father's books, albeit without his permission, to ensure that those people had equal opportunity as adults to provide for themselves and for their families.

As Olivia grew older, her dissatisfaction with what was expected of her grew. Her mother, Ruth, often detested Olivia's "charity" as she called it, and instead forced ladylike lessons on her repeatedly.

Olivia was proficient in the pianoforte, but how would that help anyone? Olivia wanted to see a society in which being a girl was not a disadvantage. She wanted to see woman as celebrated scholars and intellectuals, and God allowing, elected officials. She wanted to see a world in which every person, man or woman, could seek an education, no matter their social standing. She wanted to see people sitting in parliament based on their talents, morals and ideals, and not their social ambitions.

Olivia wanted to change the world. But clearly, she was so very far from doing so.

"Gaol, Olivia," hissed her aunt Lorna. "I wish I could say that this was the first, and last, time that I would be collecting you from a cell, Olivia, but we both know it is not true."

Olivia's parents, Ruth and John, had grown quickly sick of Olivia's "rebellious, ungodly ways". A clergyman for a father always meant Olivia was in for a sound lecture.

At sixteen, after distributing pamphlets promoting the establishment of a women's university in London, Olivia had been arrested for sedition. And, of course, all pamphlets were confiscated and destroyed. Olivia had gone one further and had attended a university lecture, dressed once again as a man. It had resulted in arrest, of course.

Her parents settled with the magistrate for surely some obscene amount. Not for Olivia's benefit, but to preserve their own social image. Ruth had had enough then. Olivia's belongings were tossed into a carriage and she was sent to Derbyshire to live with her maternal grandfather, Bernard Murray, and Ruth's younger half-sister, Lorna.

No matter how strong and stubborn Olivia was, that day, three and a half years ago, would remain as one of the worst days of her life. One did not simply move past being rejected by their parents. It was a heavy burden she still carried.

But coming to live with her grandfather and aunt had been positive. She had known a familial love at Murray Park, her grandfather's estate. Aunt Lorna was more of an older sister to Olivia, as she was only eight years her senior. Lorna attempted to guide Olivia, which was not always an easy task, and she consoled her in her failures, which were many.

Olivia could not understand why her mother had always hated Lorna. She was lovely, even-tempered, kind, and just about the most patient woman in the world.

Well, most of the time. Magistrate's offices were not always her favourite places to visit.

"I am sorry," murmured Olivia.

"Do not lie, dear. We both know you are not sorry," retorted Lorna.

"No, I suppose I am not," admitted Olivia.

Lorna sighed. "One of these days, Olivia, you are not going to walk away consequence-free. You are going to get into real trouble."

The way Olivia saw it, she had two paths she could take in her life. The first, her mother's preference, was the path of a doting, subservient wife and mother. She would marry well, of course; Ruth would see to that. Her husband would be the centre of her world. She would do all she could to raise his standing. She would live comfortably, and have more servants than necessary. Nannies would care for her children, and she would spend her days paying calls to other ladies who were living the same, dull life.

Olivia would suffocate. That life would poison her.

And so her only other option was the second path. She had to fight for the life she wanted. Olivia wanted to be educated and independent. She wanted to have an opinion on things other than parasols, and she wanted to have that opinion heard. If she married, which was highly unlikely, it would be for her own happiness, and to someone who supported her ambitions, and she would do the same in return.

If a man could love her exactly as she was, she could love him forever.

"I am not afraid of punishment, Aunt Lorna," replied Olivia. Prison was preferable to Path One.

"Perhaps we ought to take an excursion to a real prison and you can say that sentence again," mused Lorna. She sighed. "But I know there is not changing your mind. You are like your mother in that way."

Ruth and Olivia were so alike, and yet so different. Each could argue until they were blue in the face, fighting for polar opposite sides.

"Look at you!" Lorna seized one of Olivia's hand, which was grazed.

Olivia enjoyed the maternal concern, and she smiled slightly. "I was thrown out of the church. Landed on my hands."

Lorna rubbed her hand. "Oh, Olivia, what are we going to do with you?"

"Put up with me, I hope."

Lorna chuckled. "Did you know those gentlemen back at the magistrate's office? I heard you refer to the young man by his Christian name. You must be very familiar with him." Her tone was curious, and yet disapproving.

Olivia scoffed. "Oh, Aunt, please. I abhor the suggestion. You were the one who kissed a magistrate to grant my release."

Lorna's cheeks nearly went as red as her hair. "Any word of this to my father and I will have you sleeping with the pigs," she muttered.

"Dear Grandpapa would not hear it anyway," stirred Olivia. Her grandfather was quite nearly deaf. "But yes, you are right, I did know one of them. Two of them." Olivia thought back to that rather frightening day when she was eleven, on the green of her once Uncle George's house. She recalled seeing the magistrate there, too. "All of them, actually."

"How?" Lorna pried.

"Do you remember my Aunt Anne?" asked Olivia. "She was married to my Uncle George. She prefers to be called Faith, now, I think."

"Oh, yes, I remember Anne. I met her once, years ago, at her wedding breakfast. Then, of course, we all saw the papers."

Anne, or Faith's, return from the dead had been well publicised. It was at least a year before the newspapers were free from some mention of the story. It was quite fantastic. A woman returned from the dead with an illegitimate child. A duel. The death of her husband. A marriage to the victor.

"The man with the dark hair, the magistrate's friend, his name is Cassian Kensington," explained Olivia.

Realisation filled Lorna's face as her knowledge of the story filled in the blanks.

"The young man, Kit, is Mr Kensington's son," Olivia continued.

"Mr Kensington looks too young to have a son quite Kit's age," remarked Lorna.

"Kit is Mr Kensington's adopted son," clarified Olivia. "I first met him when I was eleven." Olivia had to look away so that her aunt would not see her blush. She remembered every single second of their first meeting. One did not forget something as pivotal as their first kiss.

Olivia had always had a lot of nerve, but she had still been nervous when she impulsively kissed Kit. She had thought he was very nice looking, with kind features, even if he was very tall and gangly looking. But she had liked him because he had listened, understood, and agreed with her mission at the time.

She had never met anyone who thought her ambition to change the world was not foolish.

Kit was quite changed in his features, now. He had grown into his limbs. He looked like a normal, albeit very tall, young man. His hair was blond, and had a lovely curl to it, and his green eyes were kind. Olivia thought him a very good looking man indeed.

Kit looked well. He looked healthy, and he was dressed very fine indeed. He looked like a gentleman, one who had risen in rank through education. Olivia had wished that for him.

But the way he followed his father troubled her. She had noticed it almost immediately. Kit followed Cassian in a way that did not seem normal to her. Not that she had much experience in obeying her parents, but the way Kit carried himself around his father seemed very odd to her.

Cautious, she had called him, and she had hit a nerve. Olivia very often put her foot in it and caused offense. She had not meant to hurt his feelings, and she felt very bad for it, but instead of apologising, she had only jeered him.

Olivia knew she was right, but she had not meant to hurt Kit. For the briefest of moments, Kit had been one of the only friends she had ever known.

Kit had wondered aloud to her what it would be like to believe in something so whole-heartedly that one would risk their freedom for it. Olivia believed in fighting for the disadvantaged, and promoting the rights of women, and Kit was right, she was willing to risk her freedom for it. Kit surely could not find his passion in complying with what his father wanted.

Olivia was certain Cassian would forbid Kit from ever seeing her again, which made Olivia certain that Kit would obey, but she did hope that she would have the opportunity to apologise. Not only would Cassian consider her a bad influence, but she was also an undesirable relation. She had only been eleven at the time, but she was well aware of hatred towards the Pendletons.

That had been Olivia's first taste of familial rejection. At least it was because of her surname, and not her character.

"Well, I suppose we are lucky you knew them. Mr Kelly was very lenient."

"I have you to thank for that, Aunt," teased Olivia. "I think Mr Kelly liked you."

"Do shut up, Olivia," hushed Lorna bashfully. "Oh, we are home, thank goodness for that."

Murray Park was a dignified country manor that sat situated on a leafy green. There was an abundance of trees on the estate, which made it quite secluded. It was the privacy her grandfather enjoyed.

Olivia and Lorna were greeted by a footman who opened the door for them and lowered the steps. Once inside, they climbed the grand staircase immediately, knowing at this time of evening, Sir Bernard Murray would be enjoying his pipe in his sitting room by the fire.

Sure enough, when they opened the door, Bernard was sitting in his chair, puffing away.

Bernard Murray was a kindly, old gentleman. Descended from Scottish nobility, Bernard was a baronet, and had made his fortune in farming, and lived comfortably, cared for by his favourite daughter, Lorna.

He had been married twice. First, to Olivia's maternal grandmother, Ruth's mother. From what Olivia understood, it had been a very unhappy union, and typhus had taken her before Ruth was out of the nursery. But when Ruth was sixteen, Bernard had married again, and had two further children. A son, Colin, who had married a few years ago and moved to Surrey with his family, and his beloved Lorna.

The marriage had been very happy, and when Mrs Jane Murray had died some five years ago, it about broke Bernard's heart. Lorna had promised never to leave him from then on, and was quite devoted to her father.

Lorna was seven and twenty, and Olivia knew that she would never marry while Bernard was still alive.

Lorna went over to her father, and kissed him on his balding head.

Bernard put down his pipe and beamed at his daughter. "Oh, you are returned, dear Lorna. I wondered where you had got to."

"I did tell you, Papa," replied Lorna, knowing Bernard would not have heard her.

Olivia joined Lorna at her side and smile at her grandfather. Bernard was a sweet looking, very old man. His blue eyes were kind, and had seen many, many years. His once red hair was now white, and his skin was crinkled. Olivia's favourites were the lines around his mouth, achieved through years of smiling.

"Ah, Olivia," he greeted cheerfully, before frowning and inspecting her attire through his spectacles on the end of his nose. "I will never understand the fashions these days."

Olivia gestured to her breeches playfully. "Oh, all the girls are wearing this in London, Grandpapa."

"Did you have a lovely day out, Olivia?" asked Bernard.

"Oh, yes, Grandpapa. I voted in the election, was arrested, and spent a few hours in a cell," Olivia chirped. Lorna rolled her eyes.

"Wonderful, wonderful," replied Bernard as he resumed puffing his pipe.

"Go and have something to eat, Olivia. I am not sure they fed you on your lovely day out." Lorna sat down in the chair opposite her father and picked up the book she had most likely discarded to go and collect Olivia.

Olivia kissed her grandfather and left the sitting room. In doing so, she nearly collided with their butler, Stoughton.

"Oh, pardon me, milady," he excused himself, standing back and straightening his posture. "There are two gentlemen visitors to see you, milady."

Olivia frowned. Two gentlemen? Oh! Perhaps it was Mr Kelly come to arrest her again. Perhaps she was in more trouble than she had originally thought. Oh, dear. It was so easy to dismiss consequences when they never happened. This was actually quite a daunting turn of events.

"Who?" she asked fearfully.

"A Mr Kensington and a Mr Smith, milady," replied Stoughton. "Shall I fetch Miss Murray to chaperone?"

Cassian! What could he want? And who was this Mr Smith? A solicitor? Another magistrate?

"No," she replied quickly. She did not want Lorna witnessing this. "Where are they?"

"I put them in the drawing room, milady."

"Thank you." She dismissed Stoughton and took a deep breath. Whatever this concerned, she knew she had to accept it. Fighting for what she believed in was worth any consequence.

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I hope you enjoyed the first insight into Olivia's head. I feel like she would be me if I was ever thrust back in time. She's me now anyway hahaha. One eyed. Thinks her way is the right way. Is impulsive and often puts her foot in it.

Please tell me you are all watching Outlander. The longest two weeks every waiting for the reunion episode!! IT WAS EVERYTHING!!! AND WHAT WAS EVEN MORE AWKWARD IS WATCHING IT WITH MY MUM OMGGG. But honestly that show is life.

I also finished binge watching Parks and Recreation. We don't get anything in Australia so I never saw it while it was on TV. If we have US shows they're on super late at night and we never see them. Prime time is all reality shows. We're watching The Block at the moment. Any Aussies watching? We're team Josh and Elyse. The Block, if you don't know, is a renovating show. Five couples get run down crap heap houses and turn them into multi-million dollar homes over twelve weeks, delivering a room for judging every week. At the end the houses are auctioned off and the couples get to keep whatever money the house goes for over reserve price. We love The Block!

I'm on the hunt for a new binge watch show....

Anyway, I'm off. New episode of Scorpion is loading. I'm not waiting for Australia to get around to televising it because we only JUST finished airing season 3. Can't deal.

I have real problems too. Not everything revolves around TV :P

Vote and comment!!