He dropped a hand on her arm. “It’s necessary that you don’t work yourself too hard. I realize you weren’t born for this sort of life.”
Olivia froze for an instant. Despite her concerns, it seemed he was well aware that she must have once had very different expectations. The tone of his voice had been respectful, gentle, and… caring.
“I’m sturdy enough.” But it was he who lifted the large kettle of boiling water and poured it into the basin for washing. And he did not stop with that.
Taking one of the clean linens, he dried dishes and placed them on the shelf after she washed and rinsed.
“Lord Kingsley promised he’d have the mine opened up tomorrow. And he ensured we’d all be paid a full week’s wages despite the stoppage,” he volunteered.
Olivia didn’t want to hear about the mine. She hated the mine.
She hated it.
“He’s a fair employer,” was all she could manage.
“Not all bosses are the same. And I don’t mind admitting that I’m not looking forward to his departure. Stanton will be in charge then. No guarantee he won’t be the same as his father.” And then he seemed to remember her connection. “My apologies, ma’am. I forgot your sister married the marquess.”
“If what my sister has to say on the matter carries any weight, he’ll be equally as fair as the earl.”
“That’s good to hear,” he commented casually, and then went on to tell her about a plan he had to add another room to his small home. His gruff voice sounded matter of fact as he spoke of his livelihood, his day-to-day concerns, his plans for the future.
The thought struck her that Mr. Smith was attempting to make conversation––showing her how things might be if she were to take him up on his offer.
The gesture, oddly enough, was nearly as comforting as it was unsettling.
Not once had Gabriel ever mentioned his plans for when Stanton returned. He spoke a little of his family, but the only time he’d mentioned settling down had been when she’d asked him about a valet.
Mr. Smith wanted to show Olivia a life he could provide for her. He wanted to assure her of his intentions.
Gabriel’s pursuit had all been defined as nothing more than friendship. He’d never once given her any indication that he wished to make her any promises for the future.
Not that she’d expected any, but if she were to be truly honest with herself; she had hoped.
Foolishness! Of course, he would not!
She’d nearly given herself to him when they’d gone swimming.
Olivia’s fingertips brushed Mr. Smith’s much larger, weather-roughened hands, as he took a plate from her. She wondered that she didn’t feel that spark of life, that breathtaking connection she felt whenever she was with Gabriel.
Luke Smith will never break my heart.
“You’ve been away when I returned home every day this past week. I wondered if perhaps I’d done or said something to offend you?” He’d stopped wiping at the plate in his hands and addressed her somberly.
“Of course not, Mr. Smith.” Had she hurt him? Gabriel had said he didn’t believe Luke Smith’s heart was involved in his suit. Had he merely been applying his own feelings to poor Mr. Smith? “You’ve been nothing but kind.” Lifting her lashes, she forced herself to smile.
He blinked. Flicked his gaze from her left eye to her right and then back to her left, then turned away as though intent upon drying the plate again.
This wasn’t the first time somebody had averted their eyes away from her. It was a natural response for many. They didn’t know which eye to look into.
The only person other than Louella who hadn’t shied away from looking into her eyes had been—
Stop it, Olivia Redfield! He’s no more! He’s not for you! Friends indeed! There could be no such thing between us. Not after—
“I’ve been meaning to ask you a question. If you’ll remember, I spoke with your father a while back.”
She bit her lip and nodded. The moment had finally come. She could live her life pining for Gabriel Fellowes, a gentleman who would offer her charm and pleasure and steal her away from the hardships of everyday life.
And then abandon her.
