Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love Book 3)

by M. A. Nichols

  The stark words sent an itchy shiver along Oliver’s spine, and he shifted in his seat. “Do not make a hasty decision on my behalf.”

  “If you’d been party to my thoughts the past weeks, you would not accuse me of being hasty, Mr. Kingsley,” said Miss Caswell with a wry smile. “But I shan’t allow you to make such a grave mistake.”

  “Everyone seems to know my heart better than I.”

  “Because everyone sees how you look at Miss Banfield.”

  Oliver threw up his hands. “You speak so casually, but do you think I could abandon you over some infatuation?”

  “I will survive the loss, Mr. Kingsley.”

  Slanting her a look, Oliver watched her expression as he asked, “Will you?”

  Miss Caswell opened her mouth and shut it again. Though she gave no outward signs of blushes or fidgets to signal her unease, Oliver felt it in the tightness of her muscles. Beneath the silence, the young lady searched for something to say.

  “You said we need to have a frank discussion, and I believe that is true,” he said. “But we cannot do so without complete honesty, Miss Caswell. Especially concerning you and your family.”

  *

  Mr. Kingsley’s tone was too marked for her not to notice, and her stomach sank to her toes as Victoria rifled through all the usual excuses she made in such circumstances. However, despite the wealth of experience she had in side-stepping the casual comments and pointed questions, this was a new hazard to navigate.

  But even as she attempted to form a response, Victoria met his gaze, which was her undoing. There was no judgment there or derision. No triumph over her lowered situation or glee at unearthing the gossip. Mr. Kingsley watched her with an open expression, his eyes filled with compassion and honest curiosity.

  Victoria took in a deep breath and let it out in one long sigh. “We are destitute.”

  Mr. Kingsley gave no sign of surprise or shock at that, merely nodding in return, and Victoria curled forward, covering her face. When she pulled away from him, Mr. Kingsley merely brought his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. Though it was probably wise to distance herself, Victoria gave him her weight, allowing him to comfort her as he could.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “That is unimportant—”

  “Hardly!” Victoria clutched her stomach as it began to spin. “Do you know how much effort we put into hiding our disgrace? And to know that others suspect it—”

  But it was Mr. Kingsley’s turn to interrupt. “It’s a fool’s errand to think you can hide that. Though I doubt it is common knowledge, I was told a rumor your family is having difficulties.”

  Victoria huffed. “That is one word for it.”

  “How would you describe it?”

  Her throat tightened, her body tensing as though holding back those truths that had lived so long in the dark. The words begged to be released, but a lifetime of silence was not easily overcome.

  “Speak, Miss Caswell,” he said with a gentle smile. “Whatever else may come of this, I think it may do you some good.”

  And so Victoria spoke. At first, she meant to disclose the barest portion of the truth, but her words expanded and grew like the light flurries of snow that herald a blizzard. Having never been free to speak openly of her family’s troubles, Victoria found it difficult to be circumspect once she’d begun.

  For his part, Mr. Kingsley was a mostly mute audience, giving the necessary nods and reactions as she unraveled the whole convoluted mess—from the first time she lied to cover her parents’ empty pockets to her current hunt for a husband. Perhaps she ought to have omitted the last portions, but Mr. Kingsley was far too intelligent not to understand the financial implications surrounding her marriage prospects.

  Like a satchel filled with stones, the secrets weighed her down. It was only in the removing of them, stone by stone, that Victoria realized how large a burden she’d been carrying. Though she avoided the stones with Mr. Dixon’s name etched on them, Victoria ridded herself of the rest, and for the first time in a long while, she could breathe.

  *

  There were ladies aplenty who had mastered the art of manipulation, and though Miss Caswell was skilled enough to nudge others towards her intended goal, there was no malice in her actions, and she rarely did so for her own benefit. Oliver doubted she understood just how thoroughly she was binding his future to hers, but with each sentence, she gave him more and more reasons to move forward with their engagement despite her objections.

  Oliver stared forward, his eyes unfocused as he absorbed it all. Only when Miss Caswell finished did he speak.

  “And so, you feel you must marry someone willing and able to aid your sisters’ dowries and improve their marriage prospects. Without that, their chances will be greatly reduced, and your parents’ family will offer no assistance, leaving it all on your shoulders.”

  It was a stark summary of what Miss Caswell had said, and yet it was truthful and not far from what he’d suspected before she unburdened herself. Though Lily and the other young ladies among his extended family would not be forced into such a position, Oliver knew many young ladies were. For all that society had come to accept love as an important component of any marriage, it was a sad fact that most unions were still based on finances in some manner.

  Miss Caswell winced and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I wish I could say I am not as mercenary as that, but I fear I have no defense.”

  “Do you realize that not once in that entire confession did you mention your financial security? Your entire focus has been on securing your family’s future,” he replied with a hint of a smile. “I would say that is entirely defensible and hardly mercenary.”

  Turning her head a fraction in his direction, Miss Caswell examined Oliver, no doubt searching for sincerity or duplicity in his expression, and he obliged with all the earnestness he felt.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Caswell. If anything, I think your motives speak highly of your love, loyalty, and self-sacrifice.”

  Her brows drew together, and a hint of uncertainty clouded her gaze. Oliver had never thought to see that indomitable young lady hesitate, and in many ways that vulnerability made her all the more endearing. Her confidence was admirable, but it was comforting to know she had feet of clay.

  “However,” he said, “I cannot understand why you are denying me when I would serve your purpose to perfection.”

  *

  Though far from genteel or decorous, Victoria let out a low groan that would’ve had her mama rapping her knuckles. There was no other reaction to have when faced with a gentleman too generous for either of their good. Of course, his declaration also proved the fellow was a fool of the highest order, which did not recommend him—regardless of the health of his pocketbook.

  “You cannot be serious, Mr. Kingsley!”

  “And you cannot think I could happily abandon you after such a confession, Miss Caswell.”

  Sloughing off the lackwit’s arm, Victoria sprang to her feet. With arms flung wide, she answered him by asking, “And you think I could live with myself knowing that a good man fell on his proverbial sword for my family? Do you think I could sacrifice your future for theirs?”

  Mr. Kingsley’s brows rose. “You speak as though marrying you is akin to prison. Whatever your motivation for this union, I am certain we will make a good go of it. We have a foundation of mutual trust and friendship, which is far better than most.”

  With a hand on her hip and the other pinching her nose, Victoria paced in front of Mr. Kingsley, thinking all sorts of terribly uncharitable thoughts about his mental faculties and the idiocy of men.

  Her insides gave a sickening twist and tightened as Victoria moved back and forth, gathering her thoughts. Each step ticked off another reason she ought to remain mum and accept Mr. Kingsley. Her family’s security. Her sisters’ futures. The fellow wasn’t wrong that their marriage was likely to be a success when compared to so many
others’. Each thought begged her to set aside her misgivings and accept. It would be so easy.

  But even as the temptation whispered all its tantalizing lies, painting a glorious picture of their future together, a shadow of guilt crept over it.

  Victoria crossed her arms and watched Mr. Kingsley with narrowed eyes, though he did not meet her gaze. “It is not unusual for a courting couple to never make it to matrimony, so you have no responsibility to me. And my family’s financial troubles are not your responsibility. So, I cannot fathom why you are so determined to chase after a duty that isn’t yours to bear when you are enamored with another.”

  Mr. Kingsley leaned forward, scrubbing at his head with a tense huff. “I will not deny I admire Miss Banfield—”

  Victoria dropped onto the wall beside him, taking his hand in hers as she spoke over any weak protestations he might mount. “Please do not give me any false assurances of your lukewarm affections for her. I’ve seen you two together.”

  “That is of no importance,” he said with a shake of his head. “You are arguing for me to pursue a courtship that cannot be.”

  Victoria straightened at that, watching him with narrowed eyes as he studiously avoided her gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “It is nothing—”

  But she yanked on his hand, pulling his attention to her. “Do not lie to me, Mr. Kingsley. Honesty, remember?”

  Mr. Kingsley slanted her a narrow-eyed look. “This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever been party to.”

  “And yet it is far more effective for us to approach this head-on rather than equivocating any further.”

  Giving her an appreciative nod, Mr. Kingsley pursed his lips. “And you wish for me to discuss my feelings for Miss Banfield?”

  Victoria nodded, turning his words on him. “Whatever else may come of this, I think it may do you some good.”

  Mr. Kingsley gave her another low chuckle and shook his head. “This is the strangest proposal in recorded history, perhaps.”

  “Stop dithering,” she prodded.

  And so he spoke. Beginning at their first meeting, Mr. Kingsley spoke in general terms at first, but the more he spoke, the more detail he added. Miss Banfield’s conversation. The lightness in his heart whenever she was near. Victoria’s own heart prickled at his confession, wishing their courtship had engendered such admiration, but life was never that simple or easy. Yet the pain ebbed as he delved deeper into his tale. Whether or not he was ready to admit the breadth of his feelings, Victoria was in no doubt that Mr. Kingsley loved Sophia Banfield.

  Perhaps she ought to feel the bitter sting of jealousy, but her heart warmed at the thought of him finding joy with someone who so clearly deserved his love.

  Now, if only the imbecile would simply accept that marrying Miss Banfield was the better choice.

  Chapter 25

  Miss Caswell was usually more circumspect in her expression, hiding away any frustration or irritation or anger behind a calm facade. Apparently, Oliver’s current situation had broken through her reserve, for she was watching him like a mother watches a child on the verge of doing precisely that which he has been told not to do. Luckily, with her seated beside him, Oliver was able to ignore much of her reaction and focus on the subject at hand.

  Despite the discomfort of the subject (or more importantly, to whom he was speaking about it), Oliver laid out the situation as thoroughly as he could. If she understood the divide standing between him and Miss Sophie, Miss Caswell would abandon this stubbornness.

  Yet, as he spoke, the words drifted away from a mere recitation. The more he spoke of Miss Sophie, the more his heart warmed, telling him what he couldn’t allow himself to believe.

  “It is all foolishness, Miss Caswell. An attraction, perhaps, but nothing more. There cannot be.”

  “Because your parents despise hers?” Miss Caswell’s tone conveyed the low opinion she had of that course of action.

  “You are marrying to please your parents; why is it any different for me?”

  Miss Caswell’s brows rose. “Because though fear may drive them to cast aspersions against Miss Banfield, your parents are good people, and that animosity won’t last. I do not believe your mother is capable of holding onto a grudge, let alone against someone undeserving of it. With time, they will come to know her and accept her despite her family.”

  Taking in a deep breath, the young lady wove her arm through Oliver’s, holding his gaze with such intensity that he dared not look away.

  “If you can honestly say your heart is not engaged elsewhere, Mr. Kingsley, then I will gladly accept your offer, but do not speak unless it is the whole, unvarnished truth.”

  Oliver’s mouth opened to give her all the assurances she needed, but the determination burning in her eyes forced him to pause and listen to the thrumming in his heart. In the abstract, it seemed easy to say whether or not he loved Miss Sophie. But was it only infatuation? The desire for something beyond his reach? Surely one should simply know if one’s heart was engaged. But Oliver felt stuck between denying and accepting the existence of such a sentiment.

  Miss Caswell’s eyes lightened with sympathy. “Tell me this—if there were no other impediments, would you court her?”

  “Yes.” The answer was quick and firm, and Oliver’s heart lightened at the admission.

  At that, Miss Caswell’s hold on him slackened, though she did not distance herself. Grief dimmed her smile, though acceptance and support shone in her eyes.

  “Mr. Kingsley, we may not be suited for man and wife, but I do count you as a dear friend—”

  “As do I.”

  She nodded in acceptance and continued, “Then as your friend, I feel the need to kick you for nearly ensnaring yourself in a wholly unsuitable position. You have the chance to find true happiness with another. Do not allow Miss Banfield’s awful family or your parents’ unfounded opinion of her to chase you away.”

  Sitting beside the lady whom he was courting, Oliver allowed himself a moment to contemplate the possibility—not in the vague future but the practical now. In rapid succession, he imagined approaching Miss Sophie. Courting her. Of moments spent seated on the grass together. Watching her work. Reading side-by-side. A life full of little nothings that gathered together into years of happiness. His heart swelled at each vision, pushing him to greater lengths. Engagement. Marriage. Children. His future unfolded before him in vivid detail.

  His breaths came quicker as though that might ease the glorious pressure as his heart grew until his chest felt liable to burst. When given the opportunity to grow, the sentiment wove its way through him, whispering the truth he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge. This was more than an infatuation.

  “Do you think it possible to fall in love in such a short time, Miss Caswell?”

  The young lady’s expression softened, her smile broadening. “I do not believe in love at first sight, for that is attraction and nothing more. But at times, you can find a soul with whom you fit together like a matching pair, and that connection—whether platonic or romantic—can develop quickly. It may be only a fledgling version, but it is love nonetheless.”

  With each word, her tone deepened, infusing it with a warmth that spoke of her own romantic heart, and Oliver did not miss it or the accompanying shine in her eyes.

  “You speak as though you are well familiar with love, Miss Caswell.”

  The young lady shifted in her seat, turning away from him with a vague shrug of a shoulder. “Show me a person who hasn’t loved.”

  There was something to her tone and expression that had Oliver wishing to prod further, but there was a stiffness to her shoulders and a tightness in her neck that warned him it was a subject best abandoned. Friends they may be, but that did not give him free rein to muck about in her life. Even if Miss Caswell felt free to do so in his.

  “Do not throw this opportunity away, Mr. Kingsley,” she whispered. “You have the position and fortune to marry as you wish, and that is a
gift you mustn’t take for granted. Many do not have that freedom or never find true love.”

  Oliver thought through a few responses, but not one felt right. He wished for words that might ease the strain bearing down on Miss Caswell, and when nothing helpful occurred to him, he wrapped his arm around her, taking her hand in his. She leaned into him and rested her head against his shoulder.

  “This is your future, so make it what you will,” she murmured. Then, with a touch of frustration, Miss Caswell added, “And stop being a fool.”

  *

  With her future in disarray, Victoria expected to be overtaken by a fit of despair. Such emotions had haunted her actions and thoughts since she’d first understood her family’s situation, but they were strangely absent at present. No doubt they were hiding in the shadows, awaiting the proper moment to strike.

  Yet, despite knowing pain was forthcoming, Victoria couldn’t regret her actions today. If anything, they gave her the first hint of peace she’d felt in many months. Or years. Her difficulties were far from resolved, but knowing she’d set Mr. Kingsley free to pursue his Miss Sophie eased some of the pain.

  At least one of them would gain all they desired.

  To her thinking, there was no mystery as to what a future with Mr. Kingsley would have entailed. His proposal made in haste and born from obligation would sour with the coming years, and even if they fought to maintain the equanimity, Victoria doubted they’d deem their marriage a success a decade or two into it. Even a foundation of respect and friendship would struggle to survive under such circumstances.

  The pair sat in silence for several long moments, and where Victoria usually found such stretches unbearable, there was a peace to be found in the feel of the afternoon breeze tickling her cheeks and the sounds of insects and birdsong filling the air. Mr. Kingsley’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and Victoria realized she’d forgotten it was there.