"I'm glad. I've never had younger siblings to care for but Clara and Eleanor make it easy." She hesitated, then added earnestly, "I care for them very much."
"I can tell," Oliver murmured. His gaze held hers. "You've been nothing short of wonderful with them. With everyone, really."
The praise was almost too much. Alethea dropped her eyes, a tremor of happiness and embarrassment running through her.
"You overstate my contribution," she whispered.
"You understate yours," he corrected her. "You've brought a light to this house that we didn't know we were missing."
Alethea's breath caught. Did he truly mean that?
She quickly dipped her head, trying to hide the delighted smile that threatened to break out across her face.
"If you really think that," she said, holding onto the candlestick in her hands, which were already now shaking despite her best efforts to keep them steady, "then I am truly well honored by this praise."
Oliver reached out and gently took the candlestick from her, his fingers briefly brushing against hers.
"Allow me," he said. He set the candle on a side table, the better to free her hands.
Before Alethea could muster a reply, an awkward silence fell. She realized with a start that they were standing quite close now, face to face. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She could just make out the soft curve of Oliver's smile.
"I mean it, Alethea," he said gently. "Thank you. For caring for my sisters… and for everything you have done since arriving. I am…" he broke off, as though choosing his words carefully. "I am very grateful."
She swallowed, suddenly aware of how the warmth of his body seemed to radiate across the small space between them.
"They are my family now too," she managed in a hushed tone. "Of course I would care for them."
For a heartbeat, it looked as if Oliver wanted to say something more. His hand half-lifted, as if he might touch her cheek. Alethea's heart skipped in anticipation. But then he seemed to think better of it and merely inclined his head.
"All the same… you have my thanks."
Alethea opened her mouth to respond but no sound came out. She took a half-step backward to compose herself, forgetting that the small table was directly behind her. Her heel bumped the leg of the table; she wobbled, balance slipping.
A soft gasp escaped her as she began to pitch backward. In an instant, Oliver's arm shot out. He caught her around the waist, pulling her against him before she could fall.
Alethea found herself pressed to his chest, her hands braced against his shirt. The world tilted for a dizzying moment asshe realized how solid he was beneath her palms. Oliver's face hovered inches from hers.
"Easy now," he murmured in a hoarse voice.
"I… I'm sorry," she stammered, mortified. But she could not will herself to move away. "How clumsy of me."
His arm remained around her, holding her steady.
"Think nothing of it," he said softly.
They stood like that a beat too long, neither quite ready to break away. His gaze fluttered to her lips, and for a moment Alethea felt as though her entire world stood still.
Was he about to…?
A sudden metallic plink broke their moment. The candle fell to the floor, along with its metal holder. Both of them jolted at the sound.
Oliver cleared his throat and gently released her. At once, Alethea missed the warmth of his hold. She stepped back, smoothing her skirts with trembling hands.
"Thank you," she whispered, acutely aware of the blush heating her cheeks.
"I.. well, of course."
They both moved at the same time, each bending to retrieve the candlestick. Their foreheads nearly knocked together.
