She felt light. Breathless. So embarrassed she wanted to melt straight into the bed sheets. But if she couldn’t share her true feelings with her older sister, then she couldn’t be honest with anyone.
“Oh, Olivia. I want you to experience that singular piece of heaven,” Serena said. “I truly do.”
Olivia looked at her, waiting for the “but.”
“But I’m so worried about you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Long ago, Serena had fallen in love with Jonathan one summer and had spent some of the most joyful, erotically charged days of her life with him. But then he’d spurned her and for seven years she’d struggled to overcome her shattered heart.
Serena and Jonathan’s journey to happiness had been very long and fraught with difficulty. But Olivia knew her sister’s story was one of the rare ones. It would be more common for a lady in Serena’s position to spend her life mourning that lost love. Was that what Olivia would do after Max left her?
Olivia reached out from under the covers for her sister’s hand. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice firm. “It probably won’t even happen.”
“If it does, promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will.” She hesitated. “There is a difference between what is happening with me and Max and what happened with you and Jonathan so long ago, you know.”
“What’s that?”
“You expected him to marry you. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, or so you thought at the time. But I have no such misconceptions, Serena. I know Max cannot marry the likes of me. I know that whatever happens between us will only be temporary.”
“Are you
sure,
Liv?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Don’t allow him to…” Serena hesitated.
Olivia frowned. “Don’t allow him to what?”
“… get you with child,” Serena finished.
“How can I prevent it?” Olivia chewed on her lower lip. “Do you know? Perhaps we should ask Jessica. She seemed to know of something—”
“Ask him not to finish when he’s inside you.”
“Oh.” Taking a deep breath, Olivia nodded. “I will do that, then. If it… comes to that.”
“Promise me you will.”
“I promise.”
“Good.” Serena squeezed her hand, much like Max had done a few minutes earlier. “I just pray that when it’s over and he returns to London, he won’t take your heart with him.”
“Don’t worry, Serena. My heart is firmly encased right here.” And she pressed her palm against her chest. “Trust me. It’s not going anywhere.”
A week after Olivia had resumed her daily routine, she sat in the drawing room surrounded by family and feeling very content, despite the fact that she and Max hadn’t had a moment alone since she’d left her bed. The weather had been awful, and though it had stopped raining for a time in the middle of the day today, clouds now threatened the afternoon light. Olivia turned away from the window.
“Another day without my walk,” she grumbled.
“Good,” Phoebe said. “I don’t like it when you walk. Maybe if you stopped walking altogether, you’ll stop having those awful fevers.”
Olivia sighed, but her mood was too light to argue with her sister. Instead she traded a silent look with Max before going to Phoebe and holding her arms out for Margie, who reached for her with her two chubby fists. Olivia gathered the baby into her arms and walked past the men, who’d set up the card table and were playing a game of whist.
Olivia took Margie to the sofa and sat beside Jessica. She bounced Margie gently on her knees while the baby gave her a big gummy grin and grasped on to her fingers. “You sweet thing. Such a big, big girl I think you weigh almost two stone now, don’t you?”
“For goodness’ sakes!” Phoebe exclaimed. “She’s not
that
big!”
“She’s a big, healthy, adorable baby, and you should be very proud,” Serena murmured from her chair near the hearth, where she was working on embroidering a baby bonnet—for her own baby, Olivia knew. Although, as far as she knew, Jonathan still didn’t know Serena’s news. Why on earth had Serena kept such important, wonderful news from her husband for so long?
“
I
am proud.” Sebastian, Phoebe’s husband, looked up from his cards. “She’s the most beautiful baby that was ever born, I guarantee it. And she’s the perfect size, too.”
Serena had often said how much it surprised her what a doting husband and father Sebastian had become. He’d once had a reputation of being difficult and temperamental, but it was widely agreed that Phoebe had soothed his fighter’s spirit.
“I’m proud, too.” Phoebe’s expression softened as she gazed at the pretty dark-haired baby on Olivia’s knee.
“Good,” Jonathan’s mother, the dowager countess said, looking up from her book and over her spectacles at Phoebe. “One should always be proud of one’s children.” She smiled fondly at Jonathan. “As I am.”
Jonathan doggedly ignored her, but the tips of his ears turned pink, and Olivia smiled. Jonathan had hardly spoken to his mother for several years, but his marriage to Serena had mended everything that had once been sour between them.
“Speaking of familial love,” the dowager continued, “I’ve just received a letter from my own mother.”
“Oh, have you?” Serena asked. “How is she?”
The older woman chuckled. “She claims she is dying and summons me to London.”
Jonathan didn’t look up from the cards. “She says
that every year. She isn’t dying. That woman is tough as leather—I’m sure she’ll outlast us all.”
“Nevertheless,” the dowager said, “I think I shall go in the new year.”
“Oh, we’ll miss you,” Serena said. “How long will you stay?”
“A month, possibly two.”
Jonathan shook his head. “My grandmother is so odd. She always chooses to winter in London. Why not go in the spring, when it is more welcoming? And when all her friends are there?”
“She prefers it that way.” The dowager sniffed. “She can do as she pleases without running into Lady X or Lord Y and being forced to make pleasant conversation.”
“Well, I know firsthand how much she dislikes being pleasant.”
Serena shot Jonathan an admonishing look. “I should like to meet her sometime.”
“Oh, you will, my dear,” the dowager said. “I intend to bring her home with me.”
Jonathan snorted. “I wish you worlds of luck in that endeavor, madam. You’ll need it.”
The dowager gave Jonathan a serene smile. “I’ll do my best.”
Jessica leaned over and kissed Margie on the cheek, and then she rose. “Well, rain or shine, I’m off to Beatrice’s.”
“Are you sure?” Olivia looked toward the window at the ominous clouds gathering in the sky. “I really do think it’s going to rain.”
“Take a carriage,” Jonathan offered, glancing up from his cards.
“Oh, thank you, Jonathan. I think I will, if you don’t mind,” Jessica said. “Honestly, I don’t mind getting wet and I can carry an umbrella, but I’d rather not ruin my dress with mud.” She swiped her hands down her light pink lawn.
Jonathan rose to summon a footman. “I know you’d walk through mud for your bosom friend, but I think it’s best you take the carriage.”
“But what I don’t understand is why Lady Fenwicke hasn’t visited us since Lord Fenwicke left Brockton Hall,” Serena said.
“Oh…” Jessica hesitated. “Well, she prefers to stay at her house.”
“But why?” Serena pressed.
Jessica chewed on her lower lip. “Well, I promised not to say.”
Everyone stared at Jessica. Even the three seated gentlemen all looked up from their cards.
Olivia smiled. “You’re a good friend, then, Jessica. An honest one. I’d like to have a friend like you.”
Jessica turned to her. “Oh you do, Liv. I’m not only your sister, you know.”
“I know.”
“But why would she want you to keep a secret?” Phoebe asked. “Is she in trouble?”
Jessica looked at Phoebe, fidgeted, and then just shrugged. “I truly cannot say. Please don’t force me to, Phoebe.”
Jonathan closed the door behind the footman and returned to his chair at the card table. “The carriage will be out front in a few moments.”
“Thank you, Jonathan. I’ll run up to fetch my things,
and I’ll wait at the front for it. I want to be home in time for dinner. I do want to taste the oxtail soup Cook and Beatrice have planned for us all this evening.”
“Of course,” Serena said. “Have a nice time, Jess.”
Jessica left, and Phoebe frowned after her. “I’m worried about that girl.”
“Jessica?” Olivia asked.
“No. Lady Fenwicke.”
“Me, too.” Olivia pulled Margie close, stroking her fine, dark hair. In return, Margie grabbed a fistful of Olivia’s hair and shoved it into her mouth.
“Do you like the taste of my hair, Margie?” Olivia murmured.
“She finds it delicious, I’m sure.” Phoebe groaned. “That girl will eat anything.”
“She tried doing away with my toes last night.” Sebastian cast a doting smile in Margie’s direction. “Didn’t you, love?”
Hearing her papa’s voice, Margie turned her head. She pulled the hair out of her mouth and reached out a chubby fist for her father. “Pa-pa!”
Sebastian’s dark eyes widened. He turned to the other men. “Did you hear that? She called me papa!”
As the other gentlemen slapped Sebastian on the back for the obviously superior intelligence of his progeny, Phoebe jumped up from her chair and came rushing over. “Oh, Margie, did you say papa? Say it again, darling!”
Margie had found Olivia’s hair again, though, and was yanking on it.
“Ooh! That hurts.” Olivia pried the chubby fingers from her hair.
A whimper sounded from the opposite side of the
room. It took Olivia a second to realize it hadn’t come from Margie. She and Phoebe looked across at Serena, who’d risen from her chair.
“Oh.” Serena’s voice was half cry, half moan. “Oh dear.”
The front of her skirt was covered with blood. She swayed, and there was a loud crash as Jonathan jumped up, overturning the card table, and rushed to her. He caught her in his arms just as she crumpled in a faint.
Jonathan carried Serena up to their bedchamber while Max and Captain Langley rushed to the village to fetch the doctor. Two hours later, the doctor had just left Serena’s bedchamber, confirming that she was losing the baby. He was now downstairs telling Jonathan the bad news.
Serena lay in bed, her skin so pale it looked almost blue. She had lost a great deal of blood, and though the doctor said she was out of immediate danger, he advised her to stay in bed for a day or two. Phoebe and Jessica sat at the edge of the bed across from Olivia.
“Oh, Serena.” Phoebe swiped away a tear with her handkerchief. “Does it hurt very much?”
“It hurts a little,” Serena said.
“I’m so sorry,” Olivia murmured. “I know how much you wanted this.”
“There will be another.” Serena had forced her voice to sound determined, but the pain was evident in her eyes. She gave Olivia a wavering smile. “I’m used to looking down at you in bed, Liv. Not up at you.”
“I hope I never have to stand at your bedside again. Well, except to hold your hand at the birth of your healthy baby, that is.”
Serena closed her eyes, squeezing tears out from the edges. “Me, too.”
The door opened and Jonathan strode in. He had eyes only for his wife—he didn’t even seem to notice her sisters’ presence in the room.
He went straight to the bed, sat on its edge, and leaned down to Serena, gathering her in his arms. “Serena,” he said, his choked voice muffled against her skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought… I wanted to wait for the right time. But now I think that maybe, deep in my heart, I knew something was wrong and I didn’t want to build your hopes prematurely.”
Olivia and her sisters rose at the same time and headed for the door to give Serena some privacy with her husband.
“You should have told me. I need to know these things…. I need to know how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking…”
Olivia gently shut the door behind them. Standing alone in the darkened corridor, the three sisters exchanged a desolate look.
O
livia couldn’t sleep. The rain had turned into sleet, and the wind had risen, whipping a branch against her windowpane. She lay there, staring up at her bed canopy but unable to discern the blooming roses in the darkness.
She was cold tonight. And lonely. And sadness swept in waves through her, cresting, peaking and crashing and then pulling away in a strong tide before the process began all over again.
She thought of Max in the opposite wing of the house. Except for his bedchamber, there were no rooms in use in that wing. She wondered if it was quiet there, or if the sleet beat like little pellets against his window. Was he awake and cold and lonely tonight, just like she was?
Well. There was only one way to find out.
She rose, swinging her feet over the side of the bed, then hesitated. Would he think her too forward?
The answer came quickly. No. She didn’t think so. He was always happy to see her. She’d never awakened him
before, but while she could imagine a host of reactions from him, ranging from curiosity to confusion to happiness, she couldn’t imagine him being angry or thinking less of her.
She took her woolen robe from its hook and tugged it on, tying the belt around her waist. Opening the door to her bedchamber, she peeked into the darkened corridor. All was silent. Everyone was fast asleep, including the servants.
She walked down the corridor, hesitating only as she passed Serena and Jonathan’s room. All was quiet inside. Closing her eyes, Olivia imagined Serena sleeping soundly, tucked into her husband’s arms. Serena had told her once that that was how she slept, and Olivia hoped it was the case tonight.
After she passed their room, she continued on, now in the darkest wing of the house, unused for several years before Max had come and taken the refurbished bedroom at the very end of the passageway.
Olivia stopped at the door, hesitating yet again, suddenly terribly nervous.
Half the civilized world would think she was mad right now. Or unforgivably brazen.
Or, perhaps, both.
Wide awake, Max clasped his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.