The Davenports(81)

“Will you be at the suffrage meeting next week?” she asked. Olivia struggled to keep her mind from wandering as Washington traced lazy circles on her arms, leaving gooseflesh in his wake.

He stilled. Olivia felt cold the first time all day.

“We’ll be heading to Philadelphia in a few days, then on to the Capitol.”

Olivia pushed up onto her elbows. “What? When were you planning to tell me?”

“Tonight.” His disarming smile made an appearance. “You can always come with us.”

Olivia’s next words evaporated. Go with him? No, not with him. Them. “You’re all moving on?” What about Chicago?

“We’ll come back,” he said.

Her stomach felt like a lead weight. She’d never been outside the city. Never been out from under the sharp eye of her mother or her friends. Oh, but the energy that fueled her when she helped organize such trips for others and the thought of marching in the nation’s capital! It filled her with a longing she couldn’t voice. And to do with Washington DeWight at her side.

She could do it.

I can find a way. She could room with another female activist.

Mr. DeWight’s smug grin grew. He’d read her as easily as she had the primer set out by her first tutors.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she said with as much insouciance as she could muster. “And you really should have told me sooner.”

“I should have, yes. I was worried you’d say no.”

“I still haven’t said yes.” But warmth spread through her then. Her mind raced with all the tasks that would need completing. Plans whirled in her mind. Olivia settled her head back on his chest and imagined how she’d manage lodging, among other things.

“Olivia,” he said into her hair.

“Hmm.”

“Look at me.”

She tilted her face up, the to-do list in her mind multiplying.

“Try not to overthink it,” he said. And then he kissed her.



* * *



—

Olivia arrived back at Freeport Manor without incident atop a borrowed horse. She could still feel Mr. DeWight’s arms around her as she sat, sidesaddle across his lap. She held her breath until her bedroom door closed shut, listening to the house.

“Where have you been?”

Olivia nearly screamed into the night. Or was it morning now? She whipped around to see Helen. Sitting at her vanity.

“What are you doing here?” Olivia whispered. Helen’s constant attention was setting her on edge, but better her sister than either of their parents. Her eyes burned and her hip and neck ached from the awkward way she’d fallen asleep against Mr. DeWight. It was worth it, she thought, remembering the way his body felt against hers. She touched her lips, swollen and tender. She didn’t know two people could kiss for so long and never get tired of it. After they discovered the wedge had dislodged, they had no choice but to return to the couch and wait for rescue by the morning shift. Olivia blushed at how they’d passed the time before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Helen narrowed her eyes. “I got up for a glass of milk and saw your empty bed after you claimed to be ill. Are you avoiding my question?”

“No!” Olivia whispered back. She grabbed Helen’s hand and dragged her sister to their shared sitting room. Helen wrenched her arm away and sat on the chair with a huff. Her book was open and candles were lit. She must have been waiting for Olivia to return. Helen had that stubborn set to her jaw that warned she would not leave until Olivia indulged her. “I went to the South Side. To see someone.” Olivia watched Helen frown. “Why were you in my room?”

“I’ll tell you when you tell me who you met. And don’t say Ruby. She was here looking for you too.”

Drat! There would be no easy way out of this conversation. Olivia sighed and sat down. She started from the beginning: the first meeting she stumbled into, the community’s efforts to march, mobilize, and educate. She talked about Washington DeWight, the passionate lawyer who challenged her and expected more from her than what she’d been taught. Olivia felt her pulse quicken when she glossed over the details of their most recent night together. Helen’s eyebrows still nearly arced to her hairline.

“I never would have guessed you were a secret rabble-rouser romantic.” Helen giggled.

“We’re activists, Helen.”

Her sister grew serious. Her gaze was steady as she lifted her chin. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Olivia glanced at the closed door behind her. She hadn’t even begun to iron out the details of her departure yet. The last thing she needed was to be found out before she’d even had the chance to decide she was truly going.

“Do you love him?” Helen asked.

The question made Olivia pause. She enjoyed being around Mr. DeWight. She wanted desperately to travel with his group to the capital to protest, to march, anything except talk about needlepoint or parties. So much of her future was predetermined, she had never allowed herself to think about the many ways it could be different. Before now, before him, there was no sense in wondering what could be.

Does he feel the same way? He certainly took every opportunity to challenge her, pushed her to evaluate her privilege, see her responsibilities. But he also appreciated the strength and determination she valued in herself. And he most definitely kissed her as though he did.