Before they left the Norths’ home, Harrison had telephoned Mr. Quinn to arrange an interview. They’d scheduled a photography session as well. Everything was about to change.
She glanced at the handsome man beside her. What would it be like if he’d actually said the words she’d dreamed as she was gaining consciousness? How would it feel to be loved for herself and not for her pedigree? She had to tell him the truth. Now.
He parked at the manor. “Ready?” His eyes were warm and kind.
Kindness was important to her. She’d seen too many dictator-type husbands.
He turned off the engine. “Before we go in, there is something I need to say.”
She held her breath. Was he going to declare his love? Something squeezed in her chest, and she recalled the words she once dreamed he spoke to her. I love you. She should interrupt him and tell him who she was first, but she lacked the courage to do so.
“Go on,” she said when he paused.
“The news will be out soon. I broke ties with my father and the family business. He is going to lease our premier property to Fosberg. We had words and I quit.”
“Y-You quit? But you have such a good head for business. What are you going to do?”
“Build flying machines. John and I.”
Her pulse jumped. “Oh, how grand, Harrison! Truly. You’ll be part of a new era.”
He raised a brow. “You’re not asking how I intend to support a wife. Mrs. Stewart will ask, I’m sure. I have to tell her the truth and say I have some savings, but this venture is a gamble. I believe in it though.”
She put her hand on his. “I believe in you, Harrison. Anything you put your hand to will be a success.” The warmth in his eyes intensified. She knew she should snatch her hand away, but she left it in his, forward though the action was.
He squeezed her fingers, then raised them to his lips. When he turned it over and kissed her palm, her skin burned even through the glove she wore. What did her response to him mean? She’d never experienced this kind of reaction.
Tell him. No, she couldn’t. Not now, with his eyes so tender. The moment he found out she was Olivia Stewart, those warm eyes would go cold.
“We should go in,” she whispered.
“I suppose we should,” he agreed, though he made no move to release her hand. “But first I—”
Someone touched her shoulder, and Olivia turned to see Goldia outside.
“Mrs. Stewart wants to see you, miss,” she said.
Olivia pulled her hand out of Harrison’s grip. “We’ll be right in.” What had he been about to say? She was afraid to imagine.
He climbed out of the car and came around to escort her inside. She liked being on his arm, fancied the way her head came only to his shoulder, admired the feel of his muscles flexing under her fingers where they lay on his arm.
“Take courage,” he said under his breath when they stepped inside the parlor where her mother waited. “She’s not your family. You don’t have to answer to her, not really.”
What would he do when he found out? She feared her deception would prove he should never trust a Stewart.
“There you are, my dear,” her mother said. “You’ve been gone quite a long time.” Her curious gaze touched Harrison’s face.
Harrison stiffened beside Olivia. It was a stark reminder of how he felt about her family. How was she ever going to tell him the truth?
She clasped her hands together. “We have something to tell you, Mrs. Stewart. I’ve accepted Harrison’s kind offer of marriage. It will be in tomorrow’s paper.” Act surprised, she mentally begged her mother.
Her mother stared, then nodded. “Quite fitting. Though you are not in her social standing, of course, Mr. Bennett. I applaud you for doing the right thing.”
He gave a stiff bow. “I understand I’m not worthy of Lady Devonworth. But I can tell you that I will treasure her.”
Treasure her. The words filled Olivia’s heart. If only Harrison meant them. If only this wasn’t a role he’d chosen to play to protect her honor. His restraint when dealing with her mother was admirable, especially considering the contempt he felt.
Olivia glanced at her mother’s writing desk and saw the morning’s post on it. A pile of letters was neatly stacked. From her mother’s New York friends, no doubt. They would all be asking questions about the scandal. An engagement would polish her mother’s tarnished crown as well.
“We have an appointment with the newspaper in a few minutes,” Olivia said, brushing her lips across her mother’s powdered cheek. “Mr. Bennett insisted we tell you first.”
“Come back as soon as you can,” her mother said as they moved toward the door. “We have much to discuss, my dear.”
“We should be back by dinner. Mr. Bennett wants to talk to his mother. His father has departed until next month.” Olivia took Harrison’s arm again and they stepped out into the hall. “That went smoothly,” she whispered.
He opened the door for her. “I managed to hold my tongue. It was clear she thought I was far beneath her family and yours.”
The censure in his voice made her chest squeeze. How would she ever tell him she was a Stewart?
Harrison had little more to say on the way to the newspaper office. She tried not to care that he didn’t bring up what he’d started to say before Goldia had interrupted. She wanted to ask him if he meant what he’d said about treasuring her. Maybe they could forget about canceling the engagement after the gossip died down.
She wasn’t ready to show her heart to him. Not until she knew more about his feelings.
The small newspaper office smelled of ink and dust. Olivia wanted to jiggle her foot, but she forced herself to be composed and calm. If Quinn leaked a hint of who she was . . . She pasted on a smile when he stepped into the room.
“Ah, right on time,” he said, going around to his chair behind the desk. “Where is your fiancé?”
“In the men’s room. I must ask you to remember your promise to me.”
His eyebrows rose. “You haven’t told him you are Olivia Stewart?”
She held his gaze. “That’s my business only.”
He looked away. “I’ve done some digging into Eleanor’s death. And into Fosberg.” He pulled a file toward him and opened it. “Fosberg and she had a tryst two days before she died.”
“I know about that,” she said.
His lips tightened. “I thought we were working together.”
“I was trying to protect my sister’s reputation. I don’t want that in any article.”
“You promised me the full story.”
She should have known better than to think she could evade him. “I meant the full story about who murdered her. I don’t want her besmirched.”
“She did that all by herself.” He thumbed through his file. “Her body was found by a fisherman. Fully clothed right down to her shoes. She didn’t go out for a pleasant swim.”
Olivia shook her head. “Of course not. She was terrified of the water.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. The constable was never satisfied that it was a simple drowning, by the way. He suspected your lover boy.”
She sagged against the wooden back of the chair. “Why would he suspect Harrison?”
“Don’t be a dunce. He had to have figured out his fiancée was playing footsie with Fosberg.”
“He didn’t harm her,” Olivia said, her lips trembling. “I’m sure of it. What about Fosberg?”
“He’s got a reputation with the ladies, but it appears he deserted his normal lady friends after he met Eleanor. The two seemed very close. One of his friends called him ‘besotted.’”
“With Eleanor or the name Stewart?”
The reporter shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe both. He told his partner he was going to marry her out from under Bennett’s nose. Almost like he had a personal vendetta against Harrison.”
That was a new wrinkle. Olivia tried to recall if Harrison had acted like he knew Fosberg, but she though
t he’d claimed not to before returning from Africa. “I shall have to ask Harrison about his relationship with the Fosbergs.”
He leaned forward. “And that brings up something else. Fosberg’s mother seems to have had a relationship with your father.”
“What?” She restrained herself from leaping from the chair. “What kind of relationship?”
“I’ve been told it was romantic. She often invited him to dinner at her home whenever he was in town. He sent her flowers on two occasions.”
Olivia shouldn’t have been so rocked by the news now that she knew about the illegitimate son. Still, the revelation left her gasping. Had he been unfaithful his entire marriage?
THIRTY-ONE
THE COUPLE STOOD on the Bennetts’ front porch. “News of our engagement should be in tomorrow morning’s papers,” Harrison said. “I need to tell my mother tonight.”
Lady Devonworth hung back. “Do you think your mother will be displeased? Your tone suggests it. I assumed she would be happy.”
She was probably picking up on his reluctance to open the front door. “My parents will be entirely too pleased,” he said. “Especially my father. His desire was always for me to marry one of the Four Hundred. At least I won’t have to see his smug face just yet.” He forced himself to open the door. “Hello?”
“Harrison?” His mother’s voice floated from the library. “I’m in here.”
He took Olivia’s hand and led her to the last door on the left. The library was his mother’s favorite room. She had read every one of the eighteen hundred volumes in the cavernous room, many of them more than once. His mother sat in her wheelchair by the window with a book in her hand.
“My dear Lady Devonworth! I didn’t realize you were with Harrison.” She held out her hand. “Forgive me for greeting you in such a disheveled state.”
“You look lovely, Mrs. Bennett,” Lady Devonworth said, her voice shy.
The women clasped hands, and his mother pulled her down for a hug.
“We wanted to tell you some good news,” Harrison said. “Lady Devonworth has agreed to become my wife. Our engagement will be announced in the newspaper tomorrow.”
His mother squealed. “Oh, my dear boy, what tremendous news!” She held out her arms and he leaned down for her to embrace him. “We shall be most delighted to welcome you to the family, Lady Devonworth.”
“That’s most kind.”
“This calls for a celebration!” his mother said, releasing her. “We must plan a party.”
“The Lightkeeper’s Ball is coming up,” his fiancée said. “We thought we’d make it an engagement party too.”
His mother beamed. “Of course, of course. I’m proud to tell the world.” She sent a questioning glance at Harrison. “I suspect you and your father need to talk. You could call him in San Francisco.”
“My plans have not changed, Mother,” Harrison said. “John North is joining me in my new business.”
His mother sat back in her chair. “It’s much too risky for you to try this now. Not with a family to care for.”
“I’m fully in support of this venture,” Lady Devonworth said. “I want to learn to fly myself.”
“You’re just trying to find your way,” his mother said to Harrison. “Your father did the same thing at your age. I don’t believe you’ll throw away a gift God has given you.”
“I believe God has been leading me this direction all along, Mother. Passion shows the heart. I love aeroplanes. I’m better at designing them than I am at pushing pencils. Anyone can tally a row of numbers. God has given me a passion for my new work, and I’m going to follow it.”
“You’ll have a family to support, son. Please think about this.”
“We must be going,” he said instead of answering her. “Mrs. Stewart expects us for dinner shortly.”
His mother motioned for him to roll her to the door with them. “How are plans for the ball coming, my dear?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
They reached the door. Lady Devonworth smiled down at his mother. “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett. I’m sure I shall need your assistance as the day gets closer.”
“Oh, do call me Mother, my dear.” His mother’s eyes were misty. “I’ve always wanted a daughter. This is a happy, happy day for me.”
Harrison’s gaze met Lady Devonworth’s over his mother’s head. Did she feel as much guilt at their deception as he did? He wished with all his heart that their engagement was real and that a wedding ceremony loomed in their future. He would do all he could to see that it happened.
The night air cooled Olivia’s cheeks. They walked toward Harrison’s motorcar in the moonlight, and she glanced up at the strong lines of his face.
He stopped. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m just thinking about the Stewarts’ troubles. I realize we can believe little Fosberg says, but he told me that when he tried to contact your father about the newer will, Mr. Bennett brushed him off. Wouldn’t your father have wanted to see it?”
“I would think so.” His sigh came, heavy and full of frustration. “He’s so driven about forcing his way into society. I could see him fighting to maintain his power, his chance to be one of the accepted set.”
She stared at his dear face. How could she even tell him her other fears? She wetted her lips. “Harrison, what if your father arranged for Mr. Stewart to be in that cave-in?”
He stiffened. “My father is many things, but he’s no murderer.”
“It is so convenient that he would announce Mr. Stewart’s death and at the same time present an agreement between the two families that no one knew about.”
He shook his head. “What of your belief that Mr. Stewart may still be alive?”
She took his hand, needing human contact. Needing his comfort. “I don’t know what to think about that. Why wouldn’t he show himself? It’s cruel to leave his family in this limbo.”
He slipped his other hand around her and pulled her to his chest. His chin rested on her hair. “My dear, I fear someone is playing a vicious joke on you. Whoever it is knew you would come outside if you thought Mr. Stewart was there. And you did just that.”
“Why would anyone want to harm me?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. It makes no sense. If you were a Stewart, I could understand it. It could be this Pixton wants to eliminate the Stewart family so he can inherit the entire estate. Or maybe it’s whoever killed Eleanor. He thinks you know more than you do.”
She wetted her lips. Now was the time to tell him, but once she did, he would be too angry to listen to her concerns. “About your father and that agreement. Our attorney, Mr. Grayson, has managed the Stewart money for years. After your father came back, he said the old diamond mine was played out, but that he and Mr. Stewart had agreed to a partnership of the new black-diamond mine if the two families were joined. Mr. Grayson wondered if your father was hiding some shady dealings and trying to force the merger.”
“Did Grayson get a chance to look at any of the diamond-mine books?”
At least he wasn’t taking offense. She shook her head.
“Father had the agreement in his possession?” he asked. “I thought your attorney had it.”
She tried to remember exactly how it had been revealed. “I’m sure Mr. Grayson said he had never seen the agreement before your father came home. The solicitor urged Mrs. Stewart to ask for an audit of the books, but she didn’t want to upset you or your father when the two families were about to be joined.”
“I wouldn’t have been angry.”
His words soothed her, but not as much as his touch. She leaned into his embrace and felt the pump of his heart under her ear. “Mr. Stewart lost a great deal of his money. The Stewarts no longer have the wealth of a generation ago. They have only their pedigree. Your father has a great deal of money. I’m sure that affected Mrs. Stewart’s decision.” She slumped against him. “It is quite dreadful to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. That’s what wa
s happening to me in New York. Before I met you.”
Did his lips brush her brow? The touch was so light she couldn’t tell. She closed her eyes and heard his voice again in her head. I love you. Why did that linger so when it had to have been the result of the trauma she’d suffered?
“God sees who you are inside, Essie. So do I. Your worth has nothing to do with your pedigree.”
She raised her head and stared into his face. “The same could be said for you, Harrison. God sees how much imagination and passion you have for your aeroplanes. I heard the way your mother tried to manipulate you.”
His lips twisted in a rueful grin. “Both of my parents are good at it. I usually find myself doing what my father wants. My mother’s question affected me today more than his manipulation.”
“When she asked if you were throwing away God’s gift?” When he nodded, she patted his cheek. “If we have a passion for something and the ability to do it, surely that comes from him.”
“I’m becoming more and more sure of that. God sees my ability. My ideas don’t come from sheer human imagination.”
His words tugged at her heart. God surely gave her the wit and intelligence she possessed. She knew she was more than a Kewpie doll to be posed for the most advantage. If she dared, she could make a difference in the world, just as a man could.
This would take some thought. “We should go.”
“Of course.” He released her.
Her name was all she had. Did she dare risk it by stepping outside what was expected of her? She thought she’d have the courage if Harrison were by her side.
THIRTY-TWO
THE HIGH-CEILINGED DINING room felt warmer and happier than usual to Olivia. It had nothing to do with the heat from the fireplace spilling into the damp evening. It was all about Harrison’s presence at the head of the table over dinner. She barely noticed her mother and her friends at the table, only Harrison. Their hands touched when they both reached into the basket of dinner rolls at the same time. His eyes warmed her more than the fire. She liked having him here.
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