by Mandy Goff
“When I officiate at the funeral of a baby or child. When I watch a husband abandon his wife and children, leaving them to the mercy of relatives or the community, or perhaps leaving them to starve.” He looked at her meaningfully. “When I see a son and daughter lose two parents in a matter of months, I wonder why God would let that happen. And yes, it makes me angry.”
She was touched.
Reverend Thomas continued, “In your case, especially, it was difficult. I’d known your parents for years, and having to bury both of them was hard for me. But that was nothing compared to having to watch your brother assume so much responsibility at such a young age. And you…I knew the moment I saw you at your mother’s funeral what it had done to you.”
“I tried. I really did.” She wanted to assure him she had not abandoned her faith immediately.
He nodded in understanding.
“I want it back,” she said finally.
Olivia was tired of thinking the worst of life. Her disillusionment and anger had leeched enough happiness from her.
“God wants you back as well.” Reverend Thomas seemed to be trembling, with what, she wasn’t certain.
“Are you feeling unwell, Reverend Thomas?”
He laughed, a hearty, booming sound. “I’m wonderful, dear. I’ve been waiting years to hear you say those words.”
“Can you help me?”
“I’d love nothing more.”
Several hours later, Olivia knew peace once again. She’d talked to God for the first time in years. Talked to Him without yelling or accusing. Reverend Thomas sniffled and wiped away tears the entire time.
“I have to tell someone,” she told him once they’d finished eating dinner. “Marcus will be thrilled.” She smiled as she thought about how much joy the announcement would afford her brother.
“I suspect your friend will be happy as well,” Reverend Thomas said blandly.
The minister was right. Lord Huntsford would most likely be as enthusiastic as her brother. But she felt shy about telling him. For reasons she couldn’t figure out, she wanted to wait to share with the marquess…probably because she felt she owed him a grave debt.
Olivia’s enthusiasm caused her to do something she hardly ever did, forget her manners.
“I have to leave now, Reverend,” she said without preamble.
He laughed, not bothered in the least by her haste. “Yes, I suspect Marcus will be wondering what has taken you so long.”
She smiled at him. “In more ways than one.”
Upon returning home, Olivia found Marcus in his study. And once she laid eyes on him, she hesitated. The excitement and newfound joy she’d felt when returning home was still there, still bubbling under the surface.
But this was the biggest news she’d ever had to share with him. Her brother would be thrilled, regardless of how she told him. But Olivia wanted the delivery to be perfect.
“I’m home,” she said as she walked into his dark paneled study.
“You were gone quite a while,” he said without looking up from his papers.
“Estate business?” she asked without acknowledging his remark.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “No, just a few bills and such.” He brushed them into a drawer quickly.
Odd.
“Did you have a good visit with Reverend Thomas?” he asked, shutting the drawer.
“I did indeed.”
He waited for her to say something else, but she pressed her lips together, hoping to stop the beaming smile from breaking through just yet.
“And?” he asked. Marcus rarely enjoyed these kind of games. He never wanted to guess what she was thinking, or take a stab at what wonderful thing had happened on the way home.
“I was reintroduced to someone while I was there.”
This piqued his interest. “Who?”
“God.”
Marcus, bless him, had to think this through for several moments before grasping the significance of what she’d said. But when he did, he let out a whoop, jumped from his desk and grabbed her in a hug. His strong arms lifted her feet off the ground.
He hugged her until she thought she might faint from lack of air.
Her brother set her down finally, and Olivia had to struggle to keep her balance.
“This isn’t some kind of joke, is it?” Marcus asked, looking at her sternly.
She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry I’ve made you worry. And thank you for not giving up on me.”
“I would never,” he whispered, pulling her again into another embrace. This one wasn’t quite as energetic as the last, but comforting all the same.
Olivia wished her parents could be here for this moment, to see their son and daughter doing so well. She wanted to cry at the thought, but the joy in her heart wouldn’t let the tears form.
Marcus gave a little squeeze. “Welcome home, Olivia. You’ve been away far too long.”
Chapter Eighteen
Two days later, Olivia and Marcus were back in London. Nick was at the house, playing billiards with Marcus. Olivia had no desire to intrude on their gentlemen time, so she took Reverend Thomas’s lead, went out into the garden and began trimming the roses. She’d been there for what felt like hours when the marquess came out.
“I’m surprised your brother doesn’t employ a gardener for that.”
Lord Huntsford joined her beside the bushes and delicately held a bloom in his hand.
“Marcus does, I was only looking for something to keep me occupied,” she confessed, attacking a dead growth with a satisfying snip.
“Why don’t you go riding with me?” he asked. “If you’re bored, it’s probably more exciting than mauling innocent plants.”
The unexpected invitation made her pause. “Riding where?”
He smiled. “I’d prefer the country, but I’m willing to settle for Hyde Park.”
“I’ll have a groom saddle the horses while I change.” She gifted him with her most dazzling smile. Walking into the house, she admitted to herself that agreeing was probably not the wisest thing she might have done. Finley was an ever-looming threat, of course, but she didn’t want to deprive herself of what promised to be an enjoyable afternoon.
No more than twenty minutes later, Olivia was in her dark-blue riding habit, mounting her horse in front of the house. Marcus had barely looked up from his papers when she bade him goodbye. Fleetingly, she wondered what “business” had occupied so much of his time and energies traveling back and forth from London to Westin Park over the last two weeks.
The marquess and Olivia rode through the streets to the park.
“I understand congratulations are in order,” Lord Huntsford said with a smile once they had passed the general traffic leading to the park.
“Thank you, they are.” She was glad Marcus had taken the announcement out of her hands.
“How do you feel?” he asked her.
“Better.” And were it not for Finley looming somewhere on the near horizon, she’d feel perfect. “I have much to thank you for.”
“How so?”
“Were it not for you, I don’t think I would have gone looking for answers.”
Olivia, had she not been looking directly at him, would have thought the blush was merely a trick of the sunlight. “You give me too much credit,” he said. “I’m convinced you would have found your way eventually. But I’m happy to be a part of your journey.”
Olivia turned to look at him. He was gazing intently at her.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, embarrassed.
“I can’t seem not to,” he confessed. “You are quite a woman, Lady Olivia Fairfax.”
She laughed, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness. “I suppose that could be taken many different ways,” she joked.
“I mean it in the best sense possible. Surely you know I admire you greatly.”
Olivia lowered her head. Looking into his eyes wasn’t the best way to resist the pull he seemed to have
over her.
“Care to walk for a moment?” he asked.
She could think of no good reason to refuse. He was off his steed first and came to stand beside her. His hands reached up, gripped her waist and lifted her effortlessly off the saddle. As he lowered her to the ground, she thought she was doing a fairly poor job of keeping a distance…of any kind. He stood a breath away from her.
When she braved an upward glance, the storm in his eyes transfixed her. Olivia regretted the lapse in self-control immediately.
“I thought you wished to walk,” she said, hating the way her words sounded a touch disappointed.
He smiled. The man saw too much for either of their good. He took her hand and for a moment did nothing with it…in fact, he held it in his own for so long the warmth of his hand seeped through her glove, and chills traveled up her arm. Finally, he wrapped their arms together.
“Will your horse follow us?” he asked.
Olivia couldn’t find the voice to answer the simple question, so she nodded.
They walked near the banks of the Serpentine, the small lake in Hyde Park. She was tempted to search for a stone to skip across the water—a talent she’d mastered during child hood.
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” Nick asked. A small smile played at the corners of his lips, and Olivia suppressed the memory of when he’d pressed those lips against hers.
What is happening to me? She’d given her life back to God and yet was battling with improper thoughts of the most dangerous sort.
Her smile was apologetic. “I’m afraid I’m not having any revelations. I was only thinking about childhood pastimes.”
Lord Huntsford’s face became a blank mask at the mention of anyone’s youth.
“It’s really quite beautiful out here,” she said to change the subject.
“Very beautiful.” His eyes didn’t leave her face.
She flushed a deep crimson. The sudden burst of heat to her cheeks made her want to bury her head into his chest to hide the embarrassing evidence.
“May I ask you a question?” his voice rumbled.
“I suppose,” she said warily. She’d already made up her mind she was going to attempt to be completely honest with the marquess. Insomuch as she was able without compromising her own precarious situation.
“Do you enjoy spending time with me?” Nick’s expression was vulnerable.
“Yes.”
He smiled at her again, but this time it was…victorious. “Do you like me?”
From any other man, the question would have made her laugh. But the marquess’s face was so serious, so open, the moment wasn’t funny in the least. “You said you were only going to ask one question,” she reminded him in lieu of an answer.
“I was hoping you’d be generous.”
She debated.
“I would think the first would answer the second.” She worked to slide her arm out from his, thinking she would only truly be comfortable when she wasn’t pressed so tightly against him.
She was sure he’d noticed the way she’d refused to give him the words he wanted to hear. And he only let her slide out her arm a little. He flipped his palm over so he was holding her hand. His fingers twined with hers, and her small hand fit perfectly in his larger one.
She wasn’t going to think about that.
“We should probably return home,” she said after several moments. Olivia had not removed her hand. Partly because she couldn’t think of a way to do so without being awkward. Partly because she liked the feel of it as much as he seemed to.
“Do you think Marcus will be afraid I’ve kidnapped you?”
“It’s just getting late.”
The sun was still high in the sky, and Olivia wished she were either more observant or better at making excuses.
He pulled on her hand and used his free hand to tilt her chin until she could look nowhere but at his face. Olivia recognized the look in his eyes. He was going to try to kiss her. She should stop him. Say no. Run as far away as she could manage before his lips descended on hers.
But her heart wanted something entirely different.
She nodded her acceptance.
Nick needed no other encouragement. He dropped her hand and framed her face with both of his. He had no gloves on, and Olivia was aware of the almost rough texture of his skin.
She didn’t think as he kissed her. Thinking would force her to halt this temporary madness. Her arms snaked around his shoulders as she leaned into him. Olivia lost all connection with her surroundings; they could have been standing in the middle of a crowded ballroom, for all the discretion she had.
Nick was the one to pull away from her, and instantly, her arms felt bereft.
“We really should be going,” she insisted to cover her awkwardness.
With his hands still on her face, he used his thumb and brushed it across her lips. “You know I care about you, don’t you?” he asked.
Olivia panicked. Was he preparing to make some sort of declaration? She couldn’t allow him to. “I think you are a very worthy individual yourself. And I like your aunt prodigiously well.”
Nick smiled as though he knew exactly what she was trying to do. He removed his hands, but Olivia felt as though they were still there, clasping her face.
“Aunt Henri has taken quite a liking to you. It seems to be a family trait,” Nick finally spoke, and she heard the laughter in his voice.
Enough.
She could only ever dream about what would have happened if Nick had shown interest in her, but now, hearing him say words that sounded close to a declaration made her realize the unfairness of it all. She should not have one life dangled in front of her when she was being forced to accept another.
“I don’t think we should talk about this anymore,” she said firmly.
“Why are you so adverse to my compliments?” he asked her.
“There is no benefit to them.”
This statement puzzled Nick. “Do you not want me to be honest with you?”
The anguish in her heart grew.
“I don’t wish to fight with you,” she told him, or maybe—more precisely—yelled at him.
“I wasn’t aware we were arguing.”
“I can’t let you say those things to me. I can’t, even for a moment, let myself be flattered by your pretty words,” Olivia said.
They were still walking their horses down the path, but Nick was close enough to her to reach out a hand and lay it on the side of her face. “Look at me.”
She did so. Grudgingly.
“Why can’t you let me tell you how I feel? Does it bother you?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I can’t let you say those things.”
“You’re not making sense right now,” he told her.
Olivia’s temper, her anger and disgust with the injustice of the situation rolled forth in a large, consuming wave. “Don’t you think I know?” she nearly yelled. “How could I expect you to understand what I’m saying when no one knows?”
“Knows what?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
“Nothing.” She’d said far more than what was safe already, and she’d not let him get another word out of her.
“I thought we were done with the secrets.” The look he gave her was more hurtful than any of his compliments could have been.
“I still have a few more,” she whispered. She looked away, down the path at the beautiful trees and flowers ahead. She pretended to study them to hide the fact that she didn’t want to look at his face, didn’t want to see the disappointment certain to be there.
“You can trust me.” The hand on her face moved to tilt her chin so she faced him again. “You have to believe me. I want to help you.”
“No one can help me with this.” The old Olivia was speaking again, and she hated she couldn’t reach out to Nick and let him assist her with the burden. But she’d have to trust God would see her through it. It may be her cross to bear in life, but she would never invite anyone in
to her misery.
“You’re going to have to trust someone eventually,” he told her as he withdrew his hand. “I was hoping you might let it be me.”
She turned to him, with her dashed hopes, fear and sadness in her eyes. “It can’t ever be you,” she whispered.
It can’t ever be you.
Fine, Nick huffed silently, as he stabbed his dinner with his fork.
Just. Fine.
He’d thought things had changed with her. Thought he would be welcome in his attentions. Well, things had changed for her, but apparently not where he was concerned.
Now he knew why he’d remained single all these years. Who could ever figure women out anyway? They had to be the most confounding, most agitating creatures in existence.
When Marcus had told him the wonderful news during their game of billiards, which Nick had won soundly, Nick felt as though it were a sign from God.
Olivia had been continuously in his thoughts, invading his dreams, with memories of her popping up at the most unexpected times. The hindrance, he’d felt, had been her lack of a relationship with God.
But then…then, he was given the news that her faith was no longer an obstacle. No longer would his desire to have her in his life be something outside the will of God. No sooner had the words left Marcus’s mouth than Nick was trying to find a way to extricate himself from the game. He wanted to find her. To hug her. To kiss her. He could have slid down the staircase banister in his haste to get to her.
And then she’d agreed to accompany him on a ride. Something probably of small significance to anyone outside the situation, but after all their ups and downs, Nick felt as though it was the last sign he’d needed.
But Olivia had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
Nick had promptly returned Olivia to her house and left to nurse his wounds at home. There would be other godly women to consider as a bride in the future.
So what if Olivia was perfect for him? If he liked her better than any woman he’d ever met? If life as her husband would never have been dull?
He’d find another. If he decided that’s what he wanted.
But who else did Olivia have in mind? Nick wasn’t foolish enough to believe she’d never marry. Marcus would want his sister to find someone who made her happy and to start a family of her own. Wouldn’t Olivia want that as well?