“Your father seems like a man of good taste. Whisky it is then.” He poured two glasses and handed one to Olivia. Their fingers touched when she took the glass, and a zing of awareness shot up her arm.
He must have felt it too, for his hand withdrew as if burned.
She looked into the glass, thinking, feeling his gaze on her. Unnerved by his stare, she dove right into the conversation.
“The modiste told me she would deliver two more gowns tomorrow. And another the day after. They only needed minor alterations.” As always, when she was nervous, she chattered. “Making a wardrobe from scratch would have taken much longer; these gowns are very elaborate. I don’t know how she managed, but it was fortunate your housekeeper was able to procure these gowns on such short notice.”
He looked away and seemed to consider for a moment before confessing. “They belonged to my wife.”
“Oh. I hadn’t realized...” What... that he was married? What should she say? She had been lusting after a married man! Why had it never occurred to her he could be married? And why was this revelation so incredibly unsettling?
His face hardened as he took another sip of whisky. “Realized what? The source of the gowns? No way you could have.”
“I mean... no. I suppose not. What I meant to say is that I hadn't realized you were married.” She looked around as if to find evidence of his wife, almost expecting her to come through the door and reclaim her gowns... and her husband.
“That is because I am not, Olivia. My wife passed away seven years ago. I am a widower.”
The relief she felt at knowing he was not married was only surpassed by her shame. How could she take joy from his pain? His wife had died, for goodness’s sake.
She sipped her whisky, letting it burn down her throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It was a long time ago.” Turning, he downed the rest of his whisky. “Excuse me, but I just remembered I have something to attend to. Will you join me for dinner tonight?”
“Of course.”
He left. It was obvious the talk about his wife had upset him. She wished she could go to him, hug him, somehow drive away the sadness she sensed in him. This powerful urge to comfort him was a little shocking. They were almost strangers.
He must have loved his wife very much to still feel that way after seven years. She looked down at the dress she wore. It had once belonged to his wife. Had seeing her in the dress reminded him of her? Did she look like her? The dress had needed only minor alterations, so she must have been of a similar build.
She wanted to know. Needed to know more about the woman. How did she look? What had she been like? What were her hobbies and passions? How had she inspired such undying devotion in her husband?
Because God help her, she wanted that kind of devotion for herself.
CHAPTER 20 - Afternoon delights
“EXCUSE ME. ARE YOUlooking for something?” Olivia opened the door to her bedchamber, wanting to rest for a little while before dinner, only to find a maid rummaging through her wardrobe.
