“They will be respecting a reply shortly, Your Grace,” Albert informed Ronan, much to his chagrin. “Any day now.”
“I am well aware,” Ronan snapped.
“I will remind you that you requested this, Your Grace,” Albert pressed. “You asked that I extend your interest so that?—”
“I know what I said! I was the one who said it.” Ronan glared at the butler; the anger directed not so much at the elderly servant but himself. “I just need another day to decide, is all. It is not so big a deal as you are making it.”
“As you say, Your Grace.” Albert affected a short bow. “I will pen the response now, just in case. Be sure to let me know when you wish it sent.”
Ronan sighed. “My thanks. I will be sure to do just that.”
Albert was quick to scurry from the office, leaving Ronan alone. Although Ronan often preferred such things, he found for the first time in as long as he could remember that he did not enjoy the feeling of isolation.
What he needed was advice…no, what I need is to man up and do as I know I must. As loath as I am to admit it.
The situation which vexed him was one that Ronan was expecting, had been considering for some time, but was still not sure how he should approach it. Nothing too exciting, in truth, merely an invitation to a charity garden party next week which he’d promised to attend.
It was a promise he’d made at the beginning of the Season, when he realized that he would need to spend the coming months showing his face about the ton so he would not be forgotten. So far, he had attended just the singular event, and the result of that lone venture spoke for itself.
He knew that delaying his decision would make no difference, and that he had no choice but to attend. But that was only half the problem.
When Ronan married Thalia, a part of him had wondered if that would be enough to soften the rumors which swirled about him, allowing him to vanish back into the shadows which he very much preferred.
Frustratingly, this was not the case, and he wondered too if the marriage had made things worse. Now, when people spoke ofhim, it concerned the circumstances of his marriage, the belief that he tricked his wife somehow, that she was being held against her will, that it was a most unpleasant union from which she needed saving.
Funny how often rumors can touch so close to the truth…
Thus, Ronan would be attending the garden party. Worse still, he had to do so with Thalia. And worse than that! He would need to ask her to join him, something he was sure she would agree to, even if such a thought terrified him beyond belief.
This marriage was changing, and most strangely, it wasn’t nearly so bad as Ronan wanted to believe.
He had noticed especially this last week, his desire to speak with Thalia and her daughter, to be seen by them, to even join them when every instinct inside himself warned against it.
He found that he liked the way he felt when he did. That a simple smile from his wife, the way Olivia looked upon him as if he was the center of the world, reminded him how it felt to be accepted by others.
But watching the two from afar was vastly different to inviting Thalia to a garden party. How would she interpret the invitation? What would she expect from it? It was all too much, beyond Ronan’s world, and so he stalled as he always did…
“Knock, knock.” From across the office a soft voice spoke, pulling Ronan from his internal worries.
He looked up to find Olivia standing in the doorway, somehow both nervous and eager at the same time. “Oh… Olivia,” he said.
“What are you doing?” she asked. As she did, she set one foot into the office, then quickly pulled it back.
He smiled at the hesitation. And his curiosity got the better of him when he saw clutched in her right hand a piece of paper that looked to have been drawn on and colored.
“I might ask you the same thing,” he said. “Exploring, are we?”
Her eyes flashed mischief. “No…”
“I think you are lying to me.”
“I am not!” she cried out, then caught her tongue and her eyes went wide. “Don’t tell Mommy. She… she… I am not meant to be…”
He laughed to ease her nerves. “What have you got there?” He indicated the piece of paper. “Is that for me?”
“Maybe…” Her smile was wicked.
“Can I see?”
