"That's your problem. You and Oliver both. Always thinking," he scoffed. "But love doesn't follow rules. It doesn't care for titles or timing or what the world thinks."
Alethea looked down at her wineglass. Her hand trembled slightly.
"I suppose," she said quietly, "that I never thought of it that way."
"You wouldn't," Theodore muttered, then sighed. "I'm sorry. That was unkind. I just… I feel as though no one understands what it's like."
"I'm trying."
At last, Alethea rose to her feet.
"It's late. I should go now," she said, hastily. "I only wished to hear you out."
Theodore slumped his shoulders. "I am not sure of how useful that is, but I appreciate the gesture anyway, I suppose."
Alethea did not give him a reply, and was already darting out of the room. Her cheeks were still heating up from the realization that what Theodore had described was not too different from how she felt about Oliver.
It was love.The thought only frustrated her, for she hadn't the faintest idea what to do about it.
CHAPTER 15
"Time for bed now."
Alethea had recently begun to implement a nightly ritual with Clara and Eleanor, determined to bring a bit of order to their lives. By half past eight, she had guided them through washing up and changing into their nightgowns.
Alethea sat between their small beds, reading aloud from a worn copy ofThe Tales of King Arthur. Clara fought to keep her eyes open, while Eleanor listened, more awake.
"Sir Lancelot rode through the dark woods, the path lit only by the shimmer of distant stars…" Alethea read gently. Her own eyelids felt heavy in empathy as she watched Clara's head nod and loll to the side.
By the time Sir Lancelot had rescued the maiden, both girls were fast asleep. Carefully, tucked the blankets up to the Clara's chin.She rose and lifted the candlestick to cast one last loving look at her young sisters-in-law.
A swell of tenderness filled her chest. In just a few weeks, these girls had come to mean so much to her.
She tiptoed to the door and slipped into the corridor, closing the nursery door with the faintest click. Turning, she nearly started to find Oliver standing just outside, leaning against the wall.
"They're asleep already?" he straightened at the sight of her, an expression of pleasant surprise on his face.
"Soundly," Alethea nodded, matching his hushed tone.
Oliver glanced at the closed door incredulously.
"It's not yet nine. I'm astonished. They usually concoct endless reasons to delay bedtime," he shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You've worked a miracle."
"No miracle, I assure you," Alethea felt a warm flush of pride and shyness at his praise. "I have been trying to implement a routine of sorts for them."
"You seem to be doing an excellent job at that, then," he gave a soft chuckle.
She thanked him gently under her breath. In earnest, she had not expected to be discovered by him like this. Nor was this something she was doing to impress him. Still, she could not deny that it warmed her heart a little to be acknowledged like this.
"In all seriousness, Alethea… thank you," he continued on. "Not just for this, but all of the things that I have been noticing that you do for the girls. Clara and Eleanor adore you. I suspect they'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked."
Her heart fluttered again. When it came to compliments, Oliver really did not hold himself back.
"They are very sweet girls," she managed softly. "It's a pleasure to spend time with them."
Oliver stepped closer, and her heart thundered inside of her chest.
"I confess, I expected some growing pains," he said. "They have never taken easily to new people in the household. But with you, it's as if you've always been here."
