Rather than resumeworking with Eliza at the Smith home, Olivia and Mary both threw themselves into baking and preparing meals and then delivering them to the families of the deceased. Olivia recognized the frantic activity on Mary’s part as necessary to her grieving. Mary had, in fact, lost her brother in the cave-in.
Other emotions, such as guilt and regret, clouded Olivia’s grief. When she visited Luke Smith’s now orphaned children, she found herself grieving more that she could not become their mother than she grieved the fact that she would not become Mr. Smith’s wife.
And deep down, when being completely honest with herself, she experienced a tiny grain of relief at not having to marry Luke Smith. What kind of person was she? She’d happily have married him if she could only bring back the children’s father.
She’d have cursed herself if only she knew how.
Olivia took small solace in Louella’s return, but their relationship had changed as well, just as Olivia suspected it would. Stanton was now the duke, he was Crawford, and Olivia’s baby sister was the duchess now.
Not that Louella had embraced her new status as of yet. Olivia’s younger sister had glared daggers at her when Olivia dared refer to her as ‘Her Grace.’ The title was a daunting one, and Louella hadn’t been prepared to take on so much responsibility so soon.
With each day that passed, the people of Misty Brooke endured yet another funeral. Although Louella attended them alongside her husband, Olivia adhered to tradition and left the ceremonies to the men of the village.
It was after attending the sixth of these funerals that Louella finally managed to make time to come and visit Olivia alone.
It seemed like they’d not chatted privately for ages.
But instead of inviting her sister into the parlor as she’d always done in the past, Olivia led her back to the kitchen, sat her down at the long worktable, and returned to the dough she’d been kneading before Louella arrived.
“Where is Mary?” Louella glanced around, looking quite beautiful if not a little paler than usual in one of the new gowns Stanton had purchased for her during the short time they’d been allowed together in London.
“Mary has gone to the Cromwells’ to deliver a basket.”
Of course, Louella knew of the Cromwells’ loss. Mr. Kenneth Cromwell’s funeral had been the one held that very day.
“I knew they shouldn’t reopen it.” Louella hated the mine nearly as much as Olivia did. “If I hadn’t married Cameron, it wouldn’t have been included in my dowry, Crawford would not have had the opportunity to send men down into the hole, and all those men would be alive today.”
Olivia punched at the dough but then looked up at Louella. “They would have opened it anyway, Lou.”
“But, Livvy—”
“In the end, from what I have gathered, Crawford ordered operations despite the engineers calling a halt to it. Greed had no limits with that man. You were given no choice in the matter, Lou. You and I both know that.”
Louella moaned and dropped her face into her hands. The pretty ribbons tied around her sister’s wrists did not go unnoticed by Olivia. She had hoped that after the wedding, Louella would stop wearing them but…
“It would be easier to accept that if only I hadn’t been given such a wonderful opportunity for happiness. Oh, Olivia, everything was so wonderful in London. I wish we’d never had to come back!”
Olivia raised her brows.
“I wish you could have simply come to London to stay with me and we never had to set foot on Ashton Acres or Thistle Park again.”
Olivia smiled sadly. “Is your husband grieving the loss of his father deeply, then?”
Louella plucked at one of the ribbons on her wrist. “On one hand, he hated Crawford, but on another level, one I doubt he has any control of, I believe he feels the loss greatly. He hasn’t been the same since receiving word. Oh, Olivia! Marriage is not a simple matter at all!”
They’d seemed so very happy on their wedding day. “Is there anything I can do to help?” She knew there would not be. Marriage was a private matter between a husband and wife.
Louella forced a smile and nodded. “Tell me everything else of interest that has occurred while I was away.”
She could never tell Olivia about Gabriel Fellowes, about that night, about how broken-hearted she felt each morning when she awoke knowing he would never be a part of her life again.
“Luke Smith asked me to marry him before he was killed.”
Louella’s eyebrows shot all the way up into her hairline. “Thank heavens you refused!”
“But I didn’t, Lou. I accepted the night before the mine collapsed. And a few days before that, I’d visited the mine.” She hated to voice her fears but… “Do you think it’s possible the curse has any merit? What if I hadn’t accepted him? I went inside of the mine, for just a few minutes, and then I had a dream that it was collapsing.”
Olivia bit her lip in order to stop all the words she’d been torturing herself with for the past week from spilling over.
