by Anne Barton
As she scurried out, Olivia sank onto the edge of the bed; Sophia closed the door and sat on the chair opposite her.
“We must work quickly,” Olivia said. “The rest of the family will arrive shortly and then we shan’t have a moment’s peace. They’ll ask you endless questions—I hope you are prepared for that—but I know they’ll be as fond of you as Owen and I are.”
Indeed, once Owen overcame the shock of discovering that he had another sister, he immediately took Sophia under his wing. He hadn’t completely come to terms with the fact that Papa had been unfaithful—it was so much easier to place all the blame on the mother who’d left them. But even though Sophia was living proof of their father’s infidelity, it was nigh impossible to dislike her. Her forthright manner and the grace with which she’d accepted the news about her father—and them—had quickly won over both Olivia and Owen.
And now, Sophia was Olivia’s biggest ally in her attempt to ensure James went on his expedition.
“I expect a slew of questions, and I’m sure I’ll have many for them as well.” Sophia tugged off her worn gloves. Olivia made a mental note to purchase new ones for her. “This will work to our advantage, however. If there’s one thing that could distract the family from your wedding preparations, it’s the revelation that you have a half sister. If I didn’t know that you were intent on preventing the wedding from happening, I’d feel badly for causing a stir.”
“Nonsense. We are delighted to finally know you and regret that our meeting is long overdue. But you make an excellent point. Having you here shall take the focus off me and hopefully provide an opportunity for me to slip away shortly after dinner. If I make it to Sutterside by nightfall, I can be on the mail coach first thing in the morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your destination? If something unexpected or unfortunate were to happen, it seems someone should know where you are.”
Funny, Olivia recalled James saying something very similar to her. “No, the less you are implicated, the better. I am asking too much of you as it is.”
“They’re going to give chase as soon as they realize you’re missing.”
“Undoubtedly. But I only need to elude them for a week—long enough for James to believe that I don’t wish to marry him and come to the conclusion that he should leave on his expedition. Uncle Humphrey will do his part to convince him. Once I know James is gone, I’ll return to London and face the wrath of my brother.”
Sophia shuddered. “He won’t be pleased.”
“I know. I regret the worry I’ll cause him and Rose. I hope my note will allay some of their fears. And for their sakes, I hope my summer escapades don’t end up as fodder for the gossip rags.”
“Again, my presence may deflect some of the gossip away from you.”
“Oh, I am sorry.” Olivia reached out and patted Sophia’s hand. “I wish you didn’t have to be subjected to any ugliness. The scandal sheets can be so cruel.”
Sophia shrugged. “I rather look forward to it. Now, you should prepare a small bag to take with you. You’ll need money, a change of clothes, and a few necessities.”
“Yes. And I still need to compose the note.” That was going to be the most difficult part of the whole thing—convincing James that she didn’t want to marry him so that he’d truly feel free to leave on his expedition.
“Perhaps I should leave you for a bit, give you time to gather your thoughts. I was thinking I’d go for a walk anyway.”
Olivia stood and impulsively hugged her sister. “Thank you, Sophia. I am so grateful that you made the trip here. You have every reason to be bitter and resentful about the way Papa treated you and your mother, and yet you are not.”
“I do not think that would do any of us any good. I may not have been raised as a duke’s daughter, but I can hardly complain. And I must confess I’ve always wished for siblings. I did not expect to get them at the age of twenty-three, but I suppose it’s better late than never.” She hugged Olivia back, then firmly pointed her in the direction of the escritoire below the window. “Good luck writing your note.”
As Olivia was reaching for the desk drawer, she happened to glance out the window. James was striding up the walk, his handsome face lined with determination. Heart pounding, she stepped aside and pressed her back to the wall.
“What is it?” Sophia asked.
“James is here. I can’t see him.” She could already feel her resolve cracking.
Sophia quickly drew the curtains. “I’ll tell him you’re resting.”
“I haven’t even told him about you yet,” Olivia said guiltily. “I wanted to meet you first. But perhaps Owen has.”
“I’ll introduce myself. Do not worry.” The door knocker clanked, and Sophia shot Olivia a reassuring smile. “Pack your bag. Write the letter. I’ll take care of this.”
Olivia pressed her ear to the closed bedroom door and let James’s deep, rich voice seep under her skin. She couldn’t make out the words of his and Sophia’s conversation, but she heard his disappointment when he learned that Olivia wouldn’t see him. When the front door closed, she ran to the window and peeked from behind the edge of a curtain. Hands on his hips and head hanging low, he walked away from the cottage. Upon reaching his horse, which was tethered to the picket fence by the lane, he squinted up at the house toward the very window where she stood.
Confident the curtain hid her, she remained there, very still, as he mounted his gelding and rode away.
If her plan worked as intended, it would be the last time she saw him—for at least two years.
She sat down at the escritoire and pondered the best—and most convincing—way to say good-bye.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sacrifice: (1) The act of killing a person or animal as an offering to a divine being. (2) To give up something for the benefit of another, as in
He would sacrifice anything to make Olivia happy—and to make her his.
As James rode away from the cottage where Olivia was staying, his confusion escalated. What the hell is going on?
He might not be particularly skilled at interpreting social cues and emotions, but he knew Olivia had not been resting.
He knew it in his bones.
Which meant that she was avoiding him out of anger or fear or… something.
This evening he would see her and right matters, so that when they said their vows in the church tomorrow, there would be no hesitation, no regret.
When he arrived at Uncle Humphrey’s, a coach was parked outside and a servant unloaded a couple of bags—his mother’s and Ralph’s.
James hadn’t realized until that very minute how much he’d missed them. No one knew him like they did. They knew that his fear of heights had kept him from climbing trees and that he’d struggled with every single damned French lesson. They knew the ache of being abandoned by a husband and father who couldn’t accept his younger son’s physical limitations. They knew the comfort and ease of midwinter dinners at the kitchen table in front of a warm stove.
James bounded up the walk and into the cottage. “Mother?” he called.
“James!” She appeared in the small entryway and threw her soft arms around him. “My goodness,” she said, wiping a tear, “you’re more handsome than ever.”
“And you are prettier than ever,” he said, meaning it. Her green eyes twinkled, and if her hair was a bit more gray than brown, it suited her.
“Where’s Ralph?”
“H-here.” His brother’s jaw and neck had grown thicker over the last few months. Ralph limped toward him, and James met him halfway, wrapping him in a fierce hug.
“Whoa,” said Ralph, laughing, “c-can’t breathe.”
James gave him a brotherly slap on the shoulder and raised a brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been sparring.”
Ralph shrugged but flushed at the compliment. “I’ve b-been going for w-walks.” He spoke slowly, with obvious concentration. “Trying to do ch-chores arou
nd the house.”
“He’s a great help,” their mother chimed. “He carried firewood last winter.”
“Aye, I can carry w-wood. Just don’t ask me to carry t-tea.” As he held out a shaky hand to demonstrate the challenge hot liquids presented, his entire face split into a grin that melted James’s heart and lifted his spirits.
“It’s been too long,” James admitted. “And I can’t wait for everyone to meet you both.”
“Everyone?” their mother said incredulously. “We weren’t expecting many people would be able to attend, given the… ah…”
“Scandalous circumstances?” he teased.
It was her turn to blush.
“What is going on in there?” Humphrey called from his study. “If there’s some sort of reunion taking place, move it in here so that I can witness the bloody thing from my chair.”
Mother raised her brows. “My brother is as feisty as ever, I see. He seemed so peaceful when he was sleeping.”
“It’s deceiving,” James agreed. “Let’s relocate to the study and see if we can find a seat amid Humphrey’s collections of statuettes, books, and cats. There is much I need to tell you both.”
His mother linked an arm with each of her sons. “We cannot wait to meet Lady Olivia.”
“You’ll adore her,” James said. “It’s impossible not to.”
Olivia had just finished writing her letter when two coaches pulled up to the cottage.
As her family started to pour out, she didn’t even attempt to hold back her tears.
They’d come so far, just to be present and support her on what should have been the happiest day of her life. She hoped they’d forgive her when they realized they’d traveled all the way to the Lakes for naught.
She flew down the stairs directly into Rose’s arms. Laughing, her sister said, “I think this must be the longest we’ve ever been separated… but I suppose I must get used to it now that you are to be married. I’m so happy for you, Liv!”
Anabelle and Daphne joined in the hug, each offering their own congratulations and good wishes.
“Never fear,” said Anabelle. “Even with short notice”—she shot Olivia a mildly scolding look through her spectacles—“I’ve managed to create a gorgeous gown for you.”
“It is stunning,” agreed Daphne. “I confess to being slightly jealous.” Golden curls framed her rosy cheeks as she smiled. The very idea that she was jealous of Olivia for any reason was absurd.
“How is Benjamin?” Olivia asked. “I hope he’s been feeling better of late.”
Daphne’s eyes turned dreamy. “He has indeed. He wanted to come, but he’s undergoing a new treatment for his leg. The regimen lasts several weeks, and I didn’t think he should stop midway through.”
“I feel badly for taking you away from him.”
“Oh, he shall be fine. And I wouldn’t miss your wedding for anything.”
Feeling smaller than a piece of lint, Olivia turned to Anabelle. “Where is Lizzie? It has been a month since I held her—I hope she hasn’t forgotten her aunt Liv.”
“You’re not very forgettable,” said Anabelle sweetly. “And she is with Owen. Ah, here they are now.”
The babe looked like a doll cradled in the crook of his arm. “Have you told them about Sophia yet?”
Olivia rolled her eyes at her brother’s typical lack of tact—it’s not as though they’d had time for a proper conversation. “No. She’s gone for a walk.”
“Who’s Sophia?” Rose asked.
“Our sister.”
The women gasped, and Olivia ushered them into the sitting room. “Come make yourselves comfortable and I’ll ask Mrs. Simpson to bring us tea. Then Owen and I”—she pinned her brother with a glare—“will tell you everything.”
Olivia explained about their father’s note and watched a whole range of emotions flick over Rose’s face: hurt that Papa had written only to Olivia; shock that the father she’d worshipped had been unfaithful; and finally, an eagerness to meet Sophia and welcome her into the family.
It was fortunate that Sophia had been on a walk when the rest of their clan arrived; it gave everyone a few minutes to come to terms with the news—or at least start to. The note had given Olivia more time to adjust, to rewrite in her head the brief family history that she’d always believed to be true. Now she saw the rest of them engaging in the same struggle. Sophia had probably planned to be away from the cottage when they arrived, for this very reason. In the short time Olivia had known her, her newly discovered sister had shown thoughtfulness and sensitivity, even though the situation was certainly more difficult for her than it was for the rest of them. Olivia was saying as much when Sophia walked through the door, her cheeks flushed from her walk.
“Good afternoon,” she said a little breathlessly. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I’d be happy to return a bit later, if you’d like.”
“Not at all.” Rose walked over to her and clasped her hands. “Olivia just told us everything about… well, everything… and I couldn’t be more delighted to meet you. In fact, I’d say our meeting is long overdue. I’m sorry for that.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Sophia said kindly. “We’ve all been in the dark, it seems. The last thing I want is to cause turmoil for your family.”
Rose shook her head, her auburn locks bouncing vehemently. “You aren’t, and besides, this is your family, too. Whatever comes, we will weather it together.”
The whole room burst into a flurry of hugs and tears and exclamations of agreement. Rather predictably, Owen took the opportunity to slip away, claiming he was going to put Lizzie down for a nap.
When the initial excitement faded, tea was served in the cozy sitting room, and the women settled in, eager to know everything about Sophia from her childhood, to her bookshop, to her current life in London. Under different circumstances, Olivia would have happily chatted with the women throughout dinner and into the wee hours of the morning. As it was, however, she was acutely aware of the clock on the mantel ticking away. And though she hated the thought of leaving them so soon after their reunion, timing was of the utmost importance if her plan was to succeed. And, for James’s sake, it simply had to.
When Daphne offered to refill Olivia’s teacup, she shook her head. “Would it be terribly rude of me to excuse myself? I find I’m insanely jealous of my little niece napping upstairs.”
“Oh, of course not,” said Daphne. “You need your rest. Tomorrow is a momentous day.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Rose asked, her perceptive gaze flitting over Olivia.
“Indeed.” She tried to keep her voice light. “I’ve had a few late nights recently, and I fear they’ve caught up with me.”
“Understandable,” said Sophia. “Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll check on you before dinner, but if you’re sleeping soundly, I won’t disturb you. We can send up a tray later.”
God bless Sophia. “Thank you—that sounds perfect.”
“Just a moment,” Anabelle said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You must try on your wedding gown so that I can make any last-minute alterations that might be needed. It shouldn’t require more than a quarter of an hour.”
Oh no. Trying on the wedding gown and putting Anabelle to more trouble on her behalf was surely more than she could endure. But there was no way to refuse her sister-in-law—especially when she was in bossy seamstress mode. Olivia looked helplessly at Sophia, who gave her a subtle but encouraging nod.
“I cannot wait to see your creation,” Olivia lied.
Anabelle beamed. “Let us go, then. We shan’t let the rest of them see you in it until you’re walking down the aisle.”
A few minutes later, her sister-in-law walked into Olivia’s bedchamber, a shimmering blue confection draped across her arms. As Anabelle helped slip it over Olivia’s head, a sob escaped her, but not for the reason that Anabelle assumed.
Her sister-in-law lifted her spectacles and dabbed at her own eyes. “Yours an
d James’s is a great love, and your wedding deserves a great gown.” She sighed, then circled Olivia, checking the dress from every angle.
Olivia was grateful that the room didn’t have a full-length mirror. If she could see herself in the gown, she’d probably crumple to the floor. Was she doing the right thing? She desperately wished there were some other way to ensure James went on his expedition, but time was in short supply. Running away was her last resort, and it simply had to work.
Luckily, her sister-in-law was too concerned with fixing the gather at the back of the dress to notice Olivia’s distress. Anabelle murmured to herself, pinned the silk in a few places, and eventually helped her out of the gown.
“What’s this?” Anabelle caught Olivia’s hand and examined the ring.
“James and I found it near the river where he was digging. He thinks it’s very old.”
“It’s beautiful—a splendid wedding band.”
A lump lodged in Olivia’s throat. “I’m fond of it.” Needing to change the subject, she said, “I hope the alterations won’t require too much more of your time.”
“I only need to make a tuck here and there.” Anabelle smiled brightly. “And it is a labor of love. I’m so happy for you. I know that this wasn’t the way you’d planned to become engaged, but don’t let that dampen your joy. Clearly, you and James were meant to be together.”
“I’m not certain about that. I don’t believe James realized we were destined for one another until Owen blackened his eye.”
Anabelle winced. “When it comes to protecting you, Owen can be… overzealous. But James would have gotten around to proposing, black eye or no.”
Olivia sighed. She’d never know what James would have done. “Thank you for the gown. I’ve never worn anything so lovely. And thank you for not being cross with me after I… lied. I’m sorry I made you think I was going to Aunt Eustace’s.”