She exhaled sharply through her nose. “We both knew what this marriage would be, and Adrian has kept his end of the bargain. He is…” She pushed her lips together as she tried to find the right wording. “He looks after me and Harriet, as he is genuinely concerned for our well-being. What more could I possibly ask for?”
Her father said nothing, watching her knowingly in a way she recognized. To avoid his eyes, she kept her focus on Harriet, praying he would not press her further.
If there was one thing that Ophelia did not like doing, it was lying to her father, and she knew that if he pushed her on it, thenshe would be forced to double down on her half-truths as if she were happy and content with them.
Perhaps I am happy… or content rather. But is that enough? And is it wrong to want more?
A week ago, Ophelia might have dared to dream that her marriage was growing beyond what was promised. Despite everything she thought she knew about her husband, he appeared as if he wanted such growth to happen. He was attentive. He was kind and present. He was willing to be a part of her life, and Harriet’s in ways that she had never imagined were possible for someone like him.
Still, she thought about their night together at the ball. Often, she remembered when they came home to Harriet, who was ill, and how determined he was to help. And always, she pictured that moment when he had gifted her the brooch, those tense few seconds after, and what might have happened if either one had been brave enough to try…
That was days ago now, and since then, she had not seen Adrian once. He was avoiding her, she knew, and in her mind there could be only one reason.
“Can I ask you something, Ophelia?” her father started, his voice strained with worry.
“Of course, Father.” She looked up to find his brow furrowed as he watched her nursing Harriet. “Are you happy?”
“Am I…” She laughed awkwardly. “What does that mean?”
“I think it is a rather simple question.”
“Do I not look happy?” she said in defense, again, not wanting to lie to her father.
He exhaled, and his shoulders slumped. “Since you were a little girl, I have known how you wanted to fall in love and marry.”
“I –”
“Things changed for you,” he said over her. “And the less said on why that is, the better. When you went to work for Lady Delacourt, I…” His chin quivered. “I cannot tell you how sad that made me, knowing that you might never have what you always dreamed of.”
“Father…” She sniffed as tears began to well in her eyes.
“But when you turned up suddenly with His Grace, well.” He chuckled just a little bit. “Perhaps he was not the man I imagined you would marry, but I saw you two together, and I thought that…” He shrugged and sighed. “I thought there might be a chance again. That if things went well, a little luck here and there, that you and he just might…” He sniffed and wiped his nose. “So, I ask again, are you happy?”
“Am I happy…” She looked away again, determinedly holding back her tears. “I… I want to be. I think I can be.”
“Ophelia…” Her father sighed. “I am so sorry that this has happened to you.”
“No.” She looked up and made sure that he saw her. He saw that the next words she spoke were the truth. “Do not feel sorry for me, Father. And do not think that this is some tragedy that I have found myself in.”
“What else can I possibly think?”
Last week, Ophelia had dared to see Adrian in a different light. And it wasn’t that she searched for that difference, but that he showed it to her. There was more to him than he wanted to believe, just as there was more to this marriage than the obvious.
For now, things had gone backwards. Maybe they would stay that way. But her marriage to Adrian was for life, and if Ophelia believed… if she gave Adrian time… who knew what might happen?
It was a dream, yes, but it was one worth holding onto.
“For now, Adrian and I are content,” she said. “But content does not mean miserable. He is good to Harriet and me, and I know he will continue to be so. That does not have to be a bad thing, Father. Nor does it mean that there is no room to grow.”
“I really hope you are right, Ophelia,” he said softly, his smile just as much. “It would make an old man like me so happy if it were.”
As it would make me…
“Now, come.” She stood up, Harriet still in her arms. “Let us take a walk, yes? It is too nice a day to sit about and mope. The sun shines, and while it does, I have every reason to smile. As should you.”
With Harriet in one arm, she helped her father stand. Then she held his hand, and together they walked through the garden. It was a quaint scene, the laughter she and her father shared, the memories they visited. And that Ophelia was able to enjoy it was reason enough to smile… to be happy.
But then Ophelia looked to the sky, where she saw dark clouds gathering. A storm was coming, set to ruin this perfect day, and while she hoped they might pass, with how things had been going lately, she doubted that they would
