Or she could take the step of marrying Luke Smith: a man of strong character, one who was willing to speak of the future, commit himself to her for a lifetime—a man who needed her desperately.
Gabriel Fellowes could provide immediate pleasure, but in doing so, would leave her a lifetime of pain. Was it possible he already had?
“Anyhow, If you’ll—“
“Yes, I’ll marry you. That is, if you still want to.” Gabriel could berate her for being all kinds of a fool, and yet he’d failed to understand the reality of her position in life.
Much as Louella had.
This time, it was Mr. Smith’s turn to nearly drop a dish. “Uh. Yes. That’s exactly what I was meaning to ask you.” And then he glanced toward the opposite side of the room, toward Harvey in his handmade cradle. The other three boys had slipped outside and were likely rolling in dirt or mud or something worse that would require pulling out the laundry tub later.
“I’m not a good bargain for you, Miss Redfield, I’m well aware. But I want you to know I’ll do all I can to take good care of you.” He stared at her intently with brilliant green eyes. “And I’d like to kiss you, but with Mavis having been buried not but a month ago, I don’t think it would be proper.”
Olivia dropped her gaze, feeling more than a little awkward. She merely reached out and grasped the back of his hand. “I understand.”
“May I have your permission, then, to ask Vicar Cline to announce the banns this Sunday? By the time he’s gone through all those, it ought to be fine, don’t you think?” And then he grinned at her.
Olivia’s smile froze upon her face. “Um. Yes.”
Dear God, what had she done?
* * *
Eliza arrived lessthan an hour later, and Mr. Smith excused himself to take care of some chores outside. Although Olivia normally would have shared all her news, as well as her misgivings with her friend, she couldn’t bring herself to say the actual words out loud.
If Olivia had shared the news of her engagement, of course, Eliza would have been proud of her, told her she was making a sensible decision. Although she’d not expressed her censure again at Olivia’s unseemly adventures with Lord Kingsley, her normally friendly companion had withheld her approval in subtle ways.
Mrs. Markham would be thrilled to hear of Olivia’s decision to marry Mr. Smith as well.
Olivia winced inwardly as she imagined her sister’s response.
Louella was going to lash her up one side and down the other with blistering recriminations.
By deciding to marry Mr. Smith, Olivia would never again be expected to attend any balls or teas, or pretend to fit in with other lofty individuals. She would spend all of her energy caring for sweet baby Harvey and perhaps learn to eventually draw a smile from Luke Junior.
She would be appreciated. She would belong.
She’d made the right decision. These children would have a mother. Her father would no longer be required to provide for her needs. She’d cease to be his curse.
And Louella could go forth in her new marriage without the constraint of worrying over her older sister.
Olivia untied her apron, hung it on the hook, and then swept her gaze around the front room of the small cottage again. This would be her home.
She’d no longer be able to keep Mary with her and would have to help her longtime companion find employment elsewhere.
Olivia attempted to inhale deeply but could only draw in a small amount of air.
Her mother might be willing to move Mary back to the main residence.
A small corner of the room sat empty. Perhaps Olivia could make room for her library there. She’d need to cull it considerably though.
When would she read? After all the children had gone to bed? After she’d completed all the chores that would be required of her? She might be too tired by then, and her husband would expect her to fulfill other marital expectations.
Her blood turned to ice and sweat broke out on her brow.
She shuddered, feeling as though something heavy was now sitting upon her chest.
She could not go back on her answer. She’d already given him her word.
