Olivia nearly choked at the thought.
But if he died, none of it mattered. And even if he lived…
None of it mattered.
The mood in the manor was subdued. No one laughed. Dinner was a most somber affair. Lady Kingsley had thanked Crawford profusely and begged him to stay on. The doctor had arrived later, leeches in hand, and Crawford had sent the man packing.
Nathanial had talked Olivia into going on a few short nature walks with him, but she’d never strayed far from the house. And even though she knew him to be harmless, she’d asked Mary to come along on each occasion.
The terror she’d felt from Lockley crept up on her at the strangest of times. She avoided the hike to the folly, although it had been her favorite before.
Lockley was dead.
Lady Priscilla had taken to her chamber. She’d not come down for any meals, nor had she sat in the parlor in the afternoons, reading or knitting or crocheting with Lady Kingsley, Mrs. Beasley, Louella, Miss Shipley, and herself.
The girl considered her brother’s injury her fault.
Which was what had brought Olivia to the outside of Lady Priscilla’s chamber that afternoon. She hoped the girl would let her in. She hoped she could relieve some of her guilt. For Lady Priscilla’s sake but also for Gabriel.
He loved his sister.
He’d practically given his life for her. And again, Olivia stifled a sob. He could not die!
But she had to do something.
Olivia rapped four times on the young woman’s door.
Lady Kingsley had studied her curiously when she had discovered Olivia sitting at Gabriel’s side after the bullet was removed. Louella had come with Gabriel’s mother and then escorted Olivia back to her own chamber.
The nurses in the daytime had not allowed her to enter again.
It wasn’t proper for a young woman to be in a gentleman’s bedchamber. Even Miss Shipley was only allowed to visit a few times with her aunt by her side.
Who was Olivia, anyhow? Just another one of their guests, a distant acquaintance from his time at Misty Brooke.
Olivia knocked at the door again, harder this time.
“Go away.”
“Please?” Olivia was relieved, at least, to hear the girl’s voice. “I’m not leaving until you let me in.”
She heard footsteps and then the door opened just a few inches. “I appreciate your concern, Miss Redfield, but—”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Olivia insisted before the door could be closed again. “I know you believe it to be your fault but there was something else. I think you’re blaming yourself and—” Olivia gulped. “Your brother ordered the baron off after discovering Lockley attacked me.”
Lady Priscilla stared at her hard, glanced down the hallway each way, and then opened the door so Olivia could come inside.
“Why would he attack you?” Lady Priscilla asked in a somewhat accusing tone. But the girl looked haunted.
Olivia shook her head and shrugged. “He was a bad person. Why did he kidnap you?”
The young woman sighed and gestured for Olivia to sit down on a high-backed chair before lowering herself onto its twin.
“He proposed. Said we could run away to Gretna Green together. But I refused. I told him he needed to ask my brother. And I was having second thoughts about him. There was something… And when I refused.” She turned her head away from Olivia, but Olivia could still make out her tears.
“He was a man who did not enjoy being denied anything,” Olivia supplied.
Lady Priscilla nodded and then wiped at her face. “No, he did not. I was fool enough to allow him to take certain… liberties with me last week. Liberties that gave him cause to expect that I would allow… I never should have. Oh, Olivia. May I call you Olivia?” Olivia nodded. “If only I’d acted properly, as I ought to have, then Kingsley wouldn’t have been shot.”
