Papa’s eyes slid away as though pretending he hadn’t seen her comment.
She waved her hand toward his face. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
That got his attention.
“Anything.” He quickly made the signs. “Name your terms.”
“Go and talk to him,” she said in exasperation. “He’s only up the road in the castle. All you have to do is—”
“He’s here?” Papa’s eyes widened in shock. “Milbotham swore he would never come north of London.”
“Climb to the fifth story, take the first door on the left,” Elijah said. “With a panoramic view of the Harper stud farm.”
Olive shepherded her protesting father out of the dining room and over to the front door.
“Elijah and I are no longer the middlemen in your drama.” She handed her father his coat and hat. “Don’t come back until you’ve invited the marquess to our wedding on Sunday.”
“But—”
Olive shut the door behind her father before he could argue further, then turned to face Elijah.
They both burst out laughing at the same time.
“I can’t believe you knew how to use sign language and didn’t tell me,” she said with her hands.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe our fathers might have wanted to reconcile all these years, but needed someone else to manipulate them into doing it.”
“We had the greatest tutors,” she said with a sigh.
He pulled her into his embrace. “The best Christmas I ever had was the day that pair of ruthless blackguards manipulated me back into your life.”
“Me, too,” she admitted. She wrapped her arms about Elijah’s neck and smiled wickedly. “In fact... Christmastide is not yet over. Might you have another present you’d like to share with me?”
He swung her into his arms. “Every day with you is another Christmas. And I have the perfect way to celebrate our festive spirits.”
They didn’t leave her bedchamber for hours.
Epilogue
Twelfth Night
Eli leaned an elbow on the back of the Duke of Nottingvale’s pianoforte and couldn’t repress a grin. He might be at the duke’s party, dressed in the duke’s fashionable castoffs, but Eli was living his very best life.
His soon-to-be bride was among the eleven ladies dancing a merry tune on the lymewashed floor. Rather than hide her smiles behind her hand, Olive hadn’t stopped beaming from the moment they’d announced their upcoming nuptials.
Since he wasn’t dancing with her until the next set, Eli was free to interpret conversations to Olive’s father... but his services in this matter were unneeded. Mr. Harper was spending another evening arguing with Eli’s father in his suite at the castle.
Eli had been un-banished. His future inheritance was restored, and the accompanying allowance reinstated at a less miserly amount than before.
As a consequence, Eli intended to use his increased means to continue his research... from up here in Cressmouth.
The Harper farm would remain the Harper farm, even after he and Olive married. Eli’s plans involved making the best use of one of the many unused patches of land.
Come the spring, they would break ground on the brand-new Weston Physic Garden. He was busy drawing the plans now for what would become the finest healing garden outside of London.
In the meantime, Eli was the keeper of the castle conservatory. He had declined the solicitor’s offer of truly generous wages, and negotiated instead for the castle to sponsor fellowships to highly skilled chemists and apothecaries willing to dedicate a year of research to public health projects of Eli’s choosing.
With such critical partnerships in place, Eli would be able to help more people in far more ways than he’d ever dreamed.
The rousing music at the pianoforte transitioned into a smooth waltz. Eli hurried to his soon-to-be wife and swept her into the elegant rhythm.
“I’m marrying you in two days, eight hours, and twenty-three minutes,” he growled into her ear.
She grinned up at him. “Are you going to keep counting after the wedding?”
“Only to count my blessings,” Eli answered. “Beginning and ending with you.”
He couldn’t wait to put down roots together.
Finally, the moment all of Cressmouth has been waiting for: The Duke of Nottingvale’s annual Yuletide house party! This year, he’ll select a bride from one of the lucky guests…
Find out how Miss Finch steals Christmas in Forever Your Duke, the next romance in the 12 Dukes of Christmas series!
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Author’s Note
Although the Oxford English Dictionary indicates the first recorded use of “sign language” as 1824, and the verb “to sign” as 1854, I decided to use these terms for clarity, rather than risk being misunderstood with vague words like “gestured” or “indicated.”
Sign language has been recorded within Deaf communities in England since 1570, although the first school, “Braidwood's Academy for the Deaf and Dumb,” was not founded until 1760.
In the story, I’ve shortened this name slightly so as not to hurt or jar modern readers at the unfortunate terminology that was used at the time.
It’s important to note that reading lips is not easy, particularly for those who are born Deaf. It is often infeasible when there are more than two people in the conversation.
Interpreting also takes extraordinary effort. Because the two languages use different grammatical structures, it’s almost impossible to speak both at the same time without one or both languages suffering.
Even professional interpreters are rarely active participants in the primary conversation they are interpreting, which is why Olive must respond first in one language before repeating dialogue in the other.
I speak a different language at home (Spanish) than the one I use professionally (English).
Although my husband and I are fluent in both languages, we both have different interpretation styles when a situation forces us to act as translator to a mixed crowd.
I like to listen to the whole statement or story before recounting it, in order to keep as much flavor (tone, humor, inflection, timing, etc) to the original as possible.
Roy prefers to pause to translate every few words or after each sentence, in order to minimize the amount of time any one person is left out of the conversation.
There are no simple answers, and either way can be exhausting and frustrating. I empathize very much with all participants.
If you are ever in a situation where you do not speak the language, please be patient and understanding. It is often just as upsetting for the other party, who also desperately wishes it was easier to communicate.
And if you are the one doing the translating… Have an extra hug from me to you! :)
xoxo,