The Reluctant Bride Collection Page 9

  Olivia stomped off. She could hear Rufus muttering and following behind her. This plan was going downhill and she wondered if she’d ever been in control of this experiment. Men were a lot harder to understand than the stars.

  Mary’s strident tones echoed through the house. “Hello, Mother. Where’s Olivia?”

  Olivia cursed Rufus and then herself. He couldn’t keep his big mouth shut and she had been the fool to try and sneak about.

  Mary peeked her head around the door and Olivia glared at her. “I am going to kill your toad of a husband.”

  “Mmm. I believe you have some explaining to do.”

  “He could have kept his big mouth shut.”

  “And you could have stayed at home. Now tell me, was it your idea to sneak off with Mr. Jenkins? Or did he pressure you in some way.”

  Olivia sighed. “It was my stupid idea. I wanted to see him and I wanted to know if I could sneak away undetected. Obviously I forgot to plan for sneaking back.”

  “Obviously.” Mary sat beside her and stared. “So?”

  “So what?”

  Mary wiggled her eyebrows. “So how was your first night alone with a man?”

  “Mary!”

  “Olivia!”

  Olivia wiped her brush on the cloth. “It was enjoyable.”

  “Enjoyable. This was your first night together, wasn’t it?”

  Olivia refused to look at her. How could she tell Mary that it wasn’t?

  Mary laughed. “You little sneak. Don’t tell me you’ve snuck off with him before.”

  Oh, to confide in someone. Mary didn’t seem upset with her and it would be nice to share her secrets. She and Mary had always been close.

  Olivia glanced at her. “He came here. After dark.”

  “Ah. So it’s not only the stars you’ve been studying. How is your Mr. Jenkins, then?”

  “Mary! Now you want details? You wouldn’t give me any after you married Rufus. Technically, this is all your fault. If you had told me anything, anything at all, I wouldn’t have needed to conduct such an experiment. I would have taken your word on the subject.”

  Mary said, “And stowed it away, problem solved. I know you, Olivia. You have never worried about pleasing Mama and finding a husband, and you’re too independent to think you need one. What does that leave? You would die a spinster, living your whole life under Papa’s roof, having the run of everything, exactly as you please.”

  “I’m sorry, is something wrong with that scenario? It seems quite pleasant to me.”

  “Thankfully, I know better. That is boring, Livvy. Yes, yes, you would have your studies, but no family. No interruptions, no surprises. Having a plan is all well and good, but distractions are sometimes better.”

  Olivia raised her eyebrows. “I find this hard to believe coming from someone who has known who she would marry since she was five years old.”

  “That wasn’t a plan, Livvy, that just was. I can’t help it if I found my mate so young.”

  “So you want me to have distractions. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me about your wedding night.” Olivia narrowed her eyes. “It was your wedding night, wasn’t it?”

  Mary gave her a small smile. “Of course it was my wedding night, as we were married that day. But was that the first time we were intimate? That was the night before we became engaged. Rufus was so distraught about the whole thing he ran to Father the next day.”

  “I can’t believe you never told me!”

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting any ideas. That was clearly short-sighted of me; you don’t need my help in thinking up crazy ideas.”

  Olivia balled her fist and pounded her leg. “And I can’t believe your toady husband was so self-righteously smug!”

  “Olivia, you have a strange concept of the world. Rufus, although of course he loved me, had ruined me, therefore he had to marry me. Mr. Jenkins has ruined you, therefore he has to marry you.”

  “Our situations are vastly different, Mary. You were but eighteen and I am twenty-seven. If you and Rufus and Nathaniel will simply be quiet about it, no one need know that I am ruined. It’s not as if I was marriageable material before, anyway.”

  Mary fingered the paint pots. “Do you not like Mr. Jenkins?”

  “Well, of course I like him. I would not have done such a thing if I didn’t.”

  Mary eyed her. “Sometimes I think it doesn’t matter if you like the idea or not, as long as you find a solution to your problem.”

  Olivia glared at her. “That is a terrible thing to say. I am not immoral.”

  “I believe the vicar would argue that.”

  “I believe the vicar would argue that you are immoral. Simply because you married afterward does not change the fact.”

  Mary shrugged. “The vicar would likely argue that the king is immoral.”

  “The king is immoral.”

  “So he is. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are a ruined woman. You must marry Mr. Jenkins. Soon, Olivia. There are consequences to your actions that will not wait for you to change your mind.”

  Olivia stared out the window. “There is nothing to worry on that regard, Mary. There are no unexpected consequences.”

  “Do you not wish to have children?”

  Olivia glanced at her. A touchy subject, she knew. “I am an aunt many times over. That’s enough for me.”

  Mary snorted. “You can lie to yourself, Livvy, but I at least know there is a vast difference between being an aunt and a mother.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t call to me. I don’t lie awake picturing my child.”

  Mary rubbed her belly lightly, then nodded. “I understand. It won’t be the end of the world if you don’t have one.”

  “No matter what Mama thinks. How many grandchildren does one woman need?”

  “I think she wants granddaughters.”

  Olivia conceded the point. The newest generation was overrun with boys.

  Mary said, “What of Mr. Jenkins?”

  “What of him?”

  “Where does he stand in all this? I thought you liked him. I thought he liked you.”

  “I do like him, and I believe he does like me. But that was never part of our agreement. He agreed to certain rules.”

  Olivia sighed. She should end it now. She should write him a quick note telling him his services were no longer needed. She didn’t know if she could do it, though. How could she give up the best times of her life? Why should she have to?

  Damn men and their rules. Damn marriage. She could be quite happy as a kept woman. As long as she was Nathaniel’s kept woman. What need had she of society? She could endure the jeers of the ton, the insults. Oh, if only she was an only child, with no family to suffer for her actions.

  Mary looked intrigued at the idea of an agreement but merely said, “Agreements change, Olivia. You like him, he likes you. Why are we having this conversation? We should be celebrating your engagement.”

  “It is marriage I do not care for.”

  “What have you against marriage?”

  “Have you met our parents? They’re miserable.”

  Mary studied her. “I don’t think they’re miserable.”

  “They have nothing in common, rarely talk to each other, and remember the fights they used to have? I’m surprised any of us married.”

  “I don’t remember them fighting. And they have six children in common. I think that’s something.”

  Olivia sighed. “You’ve been in love with Rufus since before you could walk. You were oblivious to our parents strife.”

  “And you are too sensitive. You notice every little detail, but miss the big picture. They’re happy together now, don’t you agree?”

  Olivia shrugged. “They seem resigned.”

  Mary narrowed her eyes. “What of Rufus and me? Do you think that we fight all the time and have nothing to talk about and nothing in common?”

  “No.”

  “But?”

 
; Olivia pinched her lips. “But I don’t think it will last. I don’t want to be mean, but I’ve never seen any marriage stay happy. For instance, Prudence. She’s so miserable, I can hardly stand to be around her.”

  “Prudence is pregnant with her fifth child in six years and you know how swollen she gets at the end. I don’t think that’s a fair example. Besides, just the fact that this is the fifth baby means that she and Marcus have something in common.”

  “A bed.”

  Mary laughed. “Yes, a bed. And don’t knock it. Prue could keep him out if she wanted. Just as Mama could have kept Papa out and they had six.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I know she has what she wants, as does Mama, and so do you. It’s just. . . It’s just that I don’t want it. I don’t want to be stuck with someone that I hate, eating meals in silence, or relying on my children for love. I don’t want that, Mary.”

  “And you think that will happen with Mr. Jenkins?”

  “It’s inevitable. One day he will look at me with loathing instead of passion. One day he will think himself a fool for letting his emotions push him into marrying so unsuitably. I need only look at Papa to see how it will happen.” She shook her head and whispered, “I could not bear it if I saw Nathaniel look at me like that.”

  Mary took her hand gently. “I never realized how pessimistic you are.”

  “I’m realistic. I refuse to be blinded by love.”

  “No, you’re blinded by fear.”

  Olivia was silent.

  Mary patted her arm. “You are not Mama, Mr. Jenkins is not Papa. If anyone can have a marriage worthy of love, it is you, Livvy. You can make anything work. The only question is, do you want to make it work with Mr. Jenkins?”

  Thirteen

  “Aunt Livvy, Aunt Livvy! We have a surprise for you!”

  “You do?” Olivia grunted as she caught her five-year-old nephew as he flung himself into her arms.

  Olivia’s eldest sister Prudence lumbered from the coach. “Yes, but not yet, Richie. It’s a surprise.”

  “I told her it was a surprise.”

  “Hmm. We’ll have to work on that.”

  Olivia let Richie go as he spied his cousins. She kissed Prue on the cheek and said, “How’s the little devil?”

  Prue grunted. “This is the last one, I swear. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and my ankles! I look like a cow.”

  “You’ve said each one was the last one, so I can hardly believe you now.”

  “I keep having boys! Four boys in a row! Even God could not be so cruel. I deserve a girl, surely.”

  Olivia said, “And if this one’s a boy?”

  “Don’t curse me. If this one’s a boy, Marcus will be sleeping with his horses.”

  “Mmm. And you’ll have another. Mother didn’t learn her lesson until she had six. I doubt you’ll give up before then either.”

  Prudence groaned. “Every night I pray to God that I will do anything, anything, if He’ll just make sure this one is a girl.”

  “Then how can He refuse. Come, Prue. I have a seat all set up for you in the pasture.”

  Prudence swatted her. “Just wait until you start waddling around. I’ll not hold my glee.” Prudence eyed her. “Is your Mr. Jenkins coming today?”

  “He is not my Mr. Jenkins.”

  “I think the lady doth protest too much. He is certainly no one else’s. He only dances with you at balls, I hear. Two dances, then poof.”

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to cut out Mary’s tongue.”

  “Tut-tut. Does your Mr. Jenkins know how violent you are? Oh, never fear, dear. I certainly won’t tell him. He’ll find out soon enough after the wedding when you lock him in his bedroom so you can paint in peace.”

  Was Olivia never to live that down? She had been in braids when she had pulled that little stunt.

  She changed the subject. “Have you heard if Eugenia is coming today?”

  “She said she would try, although she is feeling a little under the weather.” Prudence winked. “I believe a wedding-night baby is on the way.”

  “Egad. Two sisters expecting at the same time? How will we ever survive.”

  “Mmm. At least I’m almost done. I feel bad for Mary, though. She laughed it off when Amelia became pregnant right away, but it has been four years now. What will she think when she hears about Eugenia?”

  Olivia said, “Probably the same thing I thought when I heard Eugenia was getting married. Rot her. The youngest should never do anything before the eldest have had their turn.”

  Prudence chuckled. “I would have given you my monthly allowance if you’d said that to Eugenia when she was getting married. Perhaps I’ll mention it to Mary.”

  Luncheon was served picnic-style. Cold ham, diced potatoes, and light wine. The men and children sprawled in the grass; the ladies sat in chairs.

  Eugenia stood up and announced that, yes, she was in the family way.

  Mrs. Blakesley clapped her hands, the men congratulated Landon, and Mr. Blakesley said, “We can never have too many babies.”

  Olivia snorted. If this family had anything in excess, it was babies.

  Mary entered the melée with, “Rot you, Eugenia,” and everyone turned to stare at her.

  Prudence hid her chortle behind a very loud cough that turned into a real fit. Olivia pounded her on the back.

  Eugenia fingered her lace collar. “I’m sorry, Mary. I don’t mean to be cruel but just because you can’t have a baby doesn’t mean everyone can’t be happy for me.”

  Mary looked unperturbed. “I can have a baby, you twit. I simply wanted to tell everyone first.”

  Prudence stopped coughing. “Are you truly?”

  Mary patted her tummy. “Around Christmas.”

  Mrs. Blakesley jumped from her chair and ran to hug Mary. “A Christmas baby!”

  Marcus leaned toward Rufus and whispered, “About bloody time. Prudence wanted me to see if you needed any tips,” and Rufus turned bright red.

  Prudence narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember you being ill at all.”

  Mary smirked. “Not a stitch. Felt better than ever.”

  “Rot you.”

  Mrs. Blakesley frowned at her. “Prudence, language!”

  Olivia rubbed her forehead. “Three sisters? That’s half the Blakesley bunch. I hope one of you has a girl. Poor little Margaret is surrounded over there by seven boys.”

  Eugenia stamped her foot. “Hello! I’m pregnant as well, Mama!”

  Mrs. Blakesley hugged her. “I know, dear. And we are excited about that as well. It’s just we’ve been waiting so long for Mary.”

  “I don’t see why that makes any difference.”

  Prudence sighed. “That’s because you’ve never learned the art of anticipation, Eugenia. The longer it takes, the better it is. That’s why Olivia’s wedding is going to be the best of the bunch. Because we’ve all been waiting so long.”

  Mrs. Blakesley speared her third oldest daughter with the look, but it was too late.

  “Rot you, Prue.”

  Eugenia sat beside Olivia. “Is your Mr. Jenkins coming today? I should think we’d all like to meet him.”

  Mary hid a snigger behind her hand and Olivia glared at her.

  “No. And he’s not my Mr. Jenkins.”

  “Really? The way Mary tells it, the engagement is as good as announced.”

  “Mary is a twit.”

  Mrs. Blakesley clapped her hands. “That is enough, girls! There are children present.”

  Little Richie peeked out from behind his father’s chair and said, “Twit.”

  Prudence leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, Livvy. He didn’t learn that from you.” She pointed a finger at her eavesdropping child. “Run off and play with your cousins, Richie.”

  “But when are we going to give Aunt Livvy her surprise?”

  Mr. Blakesley jumped up. “Quite right. Shall we go get it, Richie?”

  “Yes!”

  Olivia t
urned to Mary. “And have you all known about this surprise?”

  Eugenia grinned. “Of course we have. And I’m surprised Mary didn’t let you in on it.”

  Olivia was surprised, too. Mary shrugged. “I would have told you if I’d thought you wouldn’t like it.”

  “That is comforting.”

  Mrs. Blakesley swatted at Mary. “Oh, it’s quite exciting. I think, Olivia, that you will be over the moon.”

  Richie ran across the lawn, waving a small wrapped package, Grandpapa trailing behind him.

  Olivia said, “I’ll have to assume it’s not breakable.”

  Margaret and six more little boys came running over to sit by Aunt Livvy.

  Richie held the gift in his hands. “You must wait for Grandpapa.”

  Olivia nodded. “May I hold it?”

  Prue shook her head. “Don’t give it to her until Grandpapa is here. We don’t want her cheating.”

  “Mama says no, Aunt Livvy.”

  “Well then, what does it feel like?”

  A chorus of yells and boos greeted her question and she sat back, grinning at her family. It wasn’t even her birthday. A thought crossed her mind that it had something to do with Nathaniel and she nearly groaned. What would her family do when she broke off their agreement and never saw him again? Hang her, most likely.

  Mr. Blakesley resumed his chair. “Go ahead, Richie. Let her open it.”

  Richie solemnly handed her the gift and Olivia felt through the wrapping. She bent it in half, and looked up.

  “It feels like a magazine.”

  The children yelled at her to open it, and so she did. She looked for a moment in consternation.

  “It’s my monthly star magazine. Have you renewed my subscription?”

  Mrs. Blakesley leaned forward. “No, silly. Open it.”

  She opened it and read the contents page and felt the blood drain from her face.

  “My article,” she whispered. “They published my article.”

  Mr. Blakesley leaned forward. “With drawings! Look at the article, my dear. Everything is in detail. Quite extraordinary. None of the other articles have drawings half so well done.”

  “You sent in my article to be published after they’d already rejected it?”