#olivia wainwright

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Anyone else got a déjà-vu?

A Woman of Substance s01e06 vs Gentleman Jack s02e04.

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The trailer for A Woman of Substance is out!

And there's our lovely Lydia Leonard, playing Olivia Wainwright. 💘

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Some interesting reading material before A Woman of Substance kicks off next week!

➠ Press pack HERE, including a full description of Olivia Wainwright, Lydia's character.

➠ A Q&A with the lovely Lydia Leonard about the series and her character HERE!

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World's End | Lunch break

Olivia wandered into the bar, a rundown, mostly empty establishment that was just about as dusty as the plains she'd just wandered in from. She pulled the handkerchief down from her face, shaking it out as she strode over to the nearest empty booth. Beside her there was a large, coal-black lannis, its twin tails twined behind it as it slunk alongside its master.

No one in the bar commented. It wasn't the kind of place where people commented on that kind of thing. And if they had, Olivia would've politely declined to leave the lannis outside. She'd had him since he was a cub; where she went, he went. She removed the stetson from her head, setting it gently on the table. Looking up, she noticed the waitress, ready and waiting for her order.

"Hell of a wind today, isn't it?" the waitress asked, smiling good-naturedly. The lannis lifted his head, sniffing at the stranger, causing her to back up a step. Olivia smiled and leaned forward, petting her companion behind his ears.

"It was. Don't worry. You've nothing to fear from Bagheera. Not unless you plan on trying to hurt me." She smiled, and the lannis, in apparent understanding, laid down on the floor next to the booth, purring softly. Still, Olivia didn't begrudge the waitress for not lowering her guard. It was rare to see a tame lannis. 

Bagheera rested his head on her boot; his tails curled and uncurled around each other. She could feel the deep rumbles of his breath tremoring against her foot.

"I'll have whatever the special i, and if I could get some ground beef for my lannis, I would greatly appreciate it.," Olivia said, putting on her best reassuring smile for the waitress's benefit. "And just water to drink will be perfect." The waitress took a moment to recover her composure before jotting the order down.

"One special with a water," she repeated back, more from habit than necessity. She retreated into the kitchen , passing under an arched doorway with a dusty chalkboard secured above it. It scrawling lines of chalk, the board read. "Special: BLT. Broccoli cheddar soup."

In the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't much of a special, but it sounded brilliant to Olivia, considering that she'd been out in the sun all day. There has been a time when she would've been much more selective, even snobbish.

She'd come from a wealthy family, a long line of government employees, most of them career politicians. Her young live had largely involved rubbing shoulders with the English elite. She'd even met the queen once, just after the young Marylise had taken the throne. Olivia could happily report that the monarch was every bit as elegant and graceful as people made her out to be.

Olivia herself had been on the fast track to a bright and shining future in politics when she'd realized that it was the very last thing on the planet that she wanted. She'd been in the middle of a meeting wherein the other MPs were discussing the cost figures for some project that would ultimately end up destroying the remains of an old building to make room for posh little condos that only the rich would've been able to afford.

It was a stupid proposal, she'd thought to herself, though she wasn't really concerned. It would never make it past the head senators. But that wasn't the point. She'd felt an irrevocable sense of melancholy for that old building. She knew that change was the way of the world, but when she thought about all of the historical sites that had been written over with gaudy, overpriced coffee shops, the pit of her stomach turned.

She'd gotten up from the table and walked out without so much as a word, gone home, packed a back, and headed out for something that she could only hope would be more fulfilling. Her family had made their disagreement with her choices more than clear. According to her uncle, The Honourable Judge Winston Wainwright, it was an utter disgrace to have a "grave robber" in the family.

Olivia hadn't taken that too personally. What she did was, after all, technically grave-robbing. But unlike many of the scavengers that sold their recovered wares off to ReInventors, Olivia procured a more selective range of items for a more niche clientele. Primarily, she went from ruin to ruin, collecting historical artifacts.

Generally, her findings went back to museums, or in some cases private collectors that she knew would appreciate the historical value of the items she recovered. She preferred the moniker of "treasure hunter" to anything else.

The waitress returned, balancing a tray with two plates, along with a glass of water, clinking with ice. Bagheera perked at the sound, still purring, tails swishing in anticipation. Olivia moved her hat to the side so that the waitress could set the food down.

"Thank you so much," she said, immediately taking the plate of ground beef. She didn't want the poor woman to feel obligated to help feed Bagheera. The waitress stepped back, curious. It was unusual to see a tamed lannis in the first place, even more so to watch one eat like it was nothing more than an oversized house cat.

"Bagheera, sit," Olivia said, her tone firm, but not harsh. The lannis sat on his hindquarters, tongue lapping hungrily over his muzzle. Olivia set the plate down, waiting a moment before smiling. "Go ahead. Just remember your manners." And with that, Bagheera leaned down, lapping at the plate of beef, calm as could be.

Olivia turned to her own food, stirring to soup to help it cool. It was perhaps a bit hot outside, but the moment that it hit her tongue, she decided not to worry. It was delicious, much better than she'd managed to make on her own. She was a wretched excuse for a cook, and it was mostly by the charity of others that she really got edible meals.

It was part of the reason that she always went to Kansas first after a dig. The Shark, ridiculous as she thought his nickname was, was the most fair dealer in artifacts, and though he could be blunt, he was always accurate when appraising items.

Besides that, he was a brilliant cook, and he seemed to have picked up on the fact that Olivia was not. So any time she showed up, he'd have a look at her findings and they'd discuss it over dinner. He was a good friend to have, and when she'd last contacted him, he'd mentioned that he had a new assistant Ollvia was curious to meet the person that had been bold enough to take on a job with Malcolm Kinnear, and the man himself had promised her crepes.

But she was still about a day out from the warehouse, so in the meantime she helped herself to her sandwich and soup, peeking down every so often at Bagheera as he worked on his own meal.