The Davenports(72)

“You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?” he said, turning her hands palms up with a featherlight touch. They were red and puffy. Olivia took in the state of them and knew she’d have a hard time explaining it the next morning. Perhaps she could steal away to the stables and claim to have been thrown from a horse. She chewed her lip, her mind racing when he removed the handkerchief from his jacket and wrapped it around her hand. He covered the deeper gash and where her skin was most tender. Then he pulled her closer, clearing her mind of worry for just a moment. Her muscles relaxed. She looked up to catch him staring at her. “You have been fully initiated,” he said. “Every man and woman out there today has a scar and a story to tell.”

Olivia thought of her parents. The scars her father kept hidden, even from his children. Her injury was less than minor. She knew in a few days it would heal and fade. She hoped that the impact she and others made would last longer than that.

He smoothed her hair away from her face. Olivia breathed. The electric current spreading through her grew. She didn’t know if what they did today reached many people, how many hearts or heads they turned. But she knew, this is where she wanted to be. On the side working for a better Chicago. Next to a man who valued her spirit more than her last name. Olivia stared at Mr. DeWight, bare of his usual fire and drive and charm, and saw tenderness in his eyes.

It was his turn to gasp, because Olivia kissed him, pulling him by his lapels down to her lips. He stiffened briefly. Then his arm tightened around her. She felt herself drawn to his body, his to hers, eliminating all space. Despite her boldness, Olivia was aware of her inexperience. She let him lead, matching his pressure until a sigh parted her lips. She felt his muscles tense at the sound. His tongue slipped over hers, exploring her as she savored the taste of him. They should keep moving, she knew, but the way he leaned into her displaced all reason. She nipped his lip, so soft against hers, and coaxed a moan from him that made her warm all over. Her pulse roared in her head.

She wanted to be even closer to him. He was handsome, yes, strong, not just in looks, but in his conviction. And Olivia felt, more than ever, firm in her own.



* * *



—

    “Thank you,” Olivia said outside the carriage house.

“I’m just glad we found you.” Hetty smacked Tommy on his arm. “Aren’t we?” she asked, squinting at him. The pair had been searching for her when she hadn’t arrived back at the center on time.

“Of course,” he said. He looked over Olivia’s shoulder at Freeport Manor. When his eyes met hers, they seemed to tell her Stop tempting fate. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Olivia held up her injured hands and said, “Thank you, but no.” Grateful for their help, she stole back to the house. She removed her shoes and tiptoed through the kitchen and up to the bathroom she shared with Helen. The events of the day felt surreal, but the people who stopped to hear their calls for support made it all worth it. She washed her hands in the basin and counted herself lucky. Then her thoughts wandered to the kiss between her and Washington DeWight. Water dripped from her hands onto her bare feet, jolting her back to the present. She saw movement down the hall.

“Olivia Elise,” Helen said, shaking her head. “I am sorely disappointed.” Olivia could hear rather than see the smile on her sister’s face. Helen stood in the doorway, the arms of the dark blue coveralls she wore knotted around her waist and a plait peeking out from the silk scarf tied around her head.

“Shh. Someone might hear you,” Olivia whispered.

“Relax, Mama and Daddy went out for dinner.” Helen walked farther into the room. She took Olivia’s wrist, turning it to expose the gash. “There’s rubbing alcohol and some bandages under the sink.

Olivia watched her dig inside a cabinet and pull out a small box. She let her younger sister clean her wounds, sucking in a breath when the sting of the alcohol met her skin. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“The mechanics. Car parts can be sharp,” said Helen, wrapping a fresh strip of linen around Olivia’s hand. “Do I want to know how this happened?”

Olivia met her sister’s critical look. “I fell.” Not, technically, a lie.

Helen’s mouth opened. Olivia watched as a strange emotion changed her sister’s features. “Were you with Mr. Lawrence?” Helen asked.

The question caught her off guard. “I—” Olivia said. She and Mr. Lawrence agreed to let her parents believe things were progressing quickly. Neither one of them had thought of the long-term consequences. Sticking close to the truth now seemed the safest choice. “No, I wasn’t,” she said. Helen’s shoulders relaxed. Olivia felt a twinge of guilt. Her sneaking around, if discovered, could not only disrupt her own ability to come and go, but her sister’s too.

“Are the rumors true, then? About the engagement?”

Helen’s interest confused her. Her sister had never shown any interest in Olivia’s relationships. Then again, Olivia had never been this close to settling down before. Could she be worried that I’ll leave her? She hugged Helen then. “Not officially. I promise, if I’m going anywhere, you’ll hear it from me first.” Olivia tightened her arms around Helen until at last she felt her sister soften, and return her hug.