Deep in her heart, Olivia knew that if she loved Luke Smith, none of these considerations would matter. It wouldn’t matter if her husband worked from sunup to sundown digging beneath the earth to extract gold for another, much richer man.
It wouldn’t matter that he returned home covered in dirt and smelling of days’ old perspiration. None of that would matter if she loved him.
But she didn’t love him.
And so, apparently, all of that mattered.
She hadn’t many choices. She could remain a spinster and keep her home––as long as her father didn’t see fit to banish her again––or marry beneath herself but live in her husband’s home and gain a family in the bargain.
“Do you think Louella will be happy living at Ashton Acres?” Eliza’s question broke into Olivia’s thoughts.
“Oh, yes. Mostly because she simply dotes on the marquess.” Although the wedding had been an arranged one, Louella had admitted that she thought she might come to love her husband. Lord Stanton had exhibited similar inclinations. Anyone with half a brain could see it whenever his eyes landed on her.
Olivia was happy for her sister.
Shewas.
Which somewhat diminished the prospect of marrying Mr. Smith.
Even though she already knew the answer, she could not help asking, “If you were in my place, what would you do, Eliza?”
Eliza raised the cup and took a sip before answering. “Nothing is ever simple, is it? I am lucky to live at the vicarage with Thomas; I am not so ungrateful as to resent my position in life. But I am dependent upon him completely. And sometimes, I think that perhaps my brother would look for an agreeable lady to marry if he were not responsible for me.”
Olivia had wondered about this. Eliza’s brother was only a few years older than she, and although a horrible gossip, as a vicar, garnered respect within the community and pulled in a steady income. These attributes alone could easily attract a wife.
“Have you never wished to marry?” Although she and Eliza had been friends for over two years, they hadn’t ever discussed matters that involved affairs of the heart. Olivia had wanted to inquire but the opportunity never arose.
Not that Eliza seemed as though she was hiding anything about herself, more as though she’d erased her past; as though she’d given up on any dreams she’d ever had for the future.
“I received an offer when I was eighteen. Matthew Wilson. Oh, Olivia, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Matthew was everything I’d ever dreamed of in a husband. His parents owned a nearby inn where he worked. The two of us would assist his family initially and one day, it would be passed on to Matthew.”
Eliza bit her lip and stared out the window. Obviously, this story ended badly. If not, Eliza wouldn’t be living with her brother now.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
People consisted of so much more than their appearance or their position in life. The quiet ones seemed to hide the most. Like very deep waters, the surface rarely moved despite turmoil far beneath.
“I’m more ashamed than anything else. I try not to think about the reckless fool I was.” The older woman sighed. “I was working in the tavern and a very fine gentleman came passing through. Lord Henry Fairchild, second son of a baron. It goes without saying that he always appeared impeccable, in his tailored clothing and dressed by his valet. A more well-read person I doubt I’ve ever come across. Oh, but he was handsome, and I believed also quite wealthy. He told me all about his estate outside of London, and I pictured myself living there with him. You can only imagine how foolish I was to bask in his attention. Eventually, Matthew realized what was happening and broke our engagement.”
Oh, dear! “And this other gentleman?”
“Was only trifling with me. I went to Henry after Matthew broke things off and he…” Eliza swallowed hard. “He was horrified. He as much as admitted to me that I could only ever be a dalliance.
“So, you see, Olivia, if I had it to do all over again, I imagine I’d be happy to be Matthew’s wife. I’d not look any higher. If I hadn’t imagined myself too good for him, I’d have a home of my own and likely several children.”
“You think I should accept Luke Smith?”
Eliza shrugged. “A bird in the hand is worth more than two in the bush.”
Olivia had always hated that saying. But she nodded slowly and set baby Harvey’s milk aside. Glancing down at the child in her arms, she decided she’d take Eliza’s words to heart. A gentle reminder of the realities of her life. Best to make a difference where she could. And she was certain she could make a difference in this small home.
This poor child was so very precious and vulnerable. And all alone in this world.
“Mavis Smith lived a short life,” Eliza reminded her. “But I do believe it was a happy one. Luke Smith isn’t a drunkard, and I never once heard he raised a hand to her.”
Yes, Mrs. Smith may have lived a happy life, but it certainly had not been an easy one. And it had been short. She’d not even reached the age Olivia was now, although she’d appeared much older.
Olivia winced at the thought.
