Olivia Twist(61)

A scrape and tap turned Olivia’s attention to her uncle exiting the back door. A long-absent smile lifted his face, peeling back the years. “Good news, my darling girl! If I continue to feel this well, the doctor has approved my attendance at the Grimwigs’ ball, and I’ll be witness to your big announcement.”

Olivia met her uncle’s hopeful expression as he pulled out the wrought iron chair across from her with a rasp of metal against stone, reminiscent of the dull knife cutting open her chest. The ball, and subsequent proclamation of her engagement to Max, were only days away. And she hadn’t told Jack.

Speaking the words and watching those flaming blue eyes frost over somehow made it deadly final. But even with all his pretty words, he’d never really offered her an alternative.

As her uncle settled across from her and leaned his cane against the table, she poured him a cup of tea. “That’s wonderful, Uncle. I’m so relieved to hear you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, well, it’s likely a temporary respite, but I’ll take what I can get these days.” He selected a biscuit from the tray and asked, “How are you, dear? Thompson told me he received delivery of your ball gown yesterday afternoon. Is it everything you’d hoped?”

Olivia met his expectant eyes and opened her mouth to make a positive reply, but her shoulders slumped, the lie she was about to tell burning in her throat.

“What is it, dear? If it’s the dress, I can bring in a seamstress or buy one off the rack—”

Olivia shook her head, cutting off his words. Fran’s family had paid for her gown and Uncle Brownlow could not afford another one. “No, sir. The dress is lovely.” She stared past his head, fighting tears, ashamed to her core that she could be so blasted selfish. Her uncle was happier than she’d seen him in years, and all she could think about was her own heartache.

He reached across the table and took her hand in papery fingers. “There was a time when you shared everything with me. All the dreams of a little girl’s heart.” A faraway look entered his eyes as his voice lowered to a whisper. “Remember that night, soon after I found you, when you rushed into my bedroom after reading Sleeping Beauty? You were terrified to fall asleep.” He shook his head, lost in memory. “You were afraid you might never wake up again because you hadn’t yet found your true love. You asked me if he was really out there.”

Tears flooded Olivia’s eyes at the memory of a broken little girl who struggled to believe anyone could want her as much as a prince in a fairy tale. But the unconditional love of her uncle had opened her heart to the possibility that there was good in everyone.

He gave her hand a squeeze. “Have you found him, Olivia? Or are you settling?”

Sadly, she had found him, the one who would protect her with his life, who swept her off her feet with a single look, but her prince couldn’t be bound by anything so mundane as love. For a brief instant she let herself imagine running away from it all—Maxwell, the Hill Orphans, her uncle. Even as the picture formed in her mind, she knew she could never leave them behind, even if Jack wanted to accompany her. It was time to accept that happily ever after was just a hopeless dream.

Olivia picked pieces off the biscuit on her plate, crumbling bits between her fingers. Her uncle let go of her other hand, and she looked up to find him searching her face with soft eyes. He’d always loved every part of her, but would he still look at her in the same way if she told him the truth? The full truth about Jack, about stealing from their friends, dressing as a boy and sneaking into the slums of London at night? What about the letter and the threats from her half brother?

She couldn’t possibly burden him with the ugly truth. But perhaps, a portion would suffice.

“I . . .” Straightening her shoulders, she swiped away her tears. “Yes, to both of your questions. There is someone I love, and it isn’t Max.” She stopped and searched his face, waiting for the mask of disapproval, but instead, he smiled sadly.

“I suspected as much. But what I don’t understand is why?” He shook his head, his white brows lowering. “Why would you settle for anything, my sweet girl? Surely—”

“He doesn’t want me.” Olivia cut him off and looked down at the dust she’d made of the biscuit on her plate. “At least not like that. Not enough to choose me or make a binding commitment.”

“So you’re settling for Maxwell?”

“Yes. It’s for the best. This other gentleman is not . . . suitable, or financially stable.” She nodded decisively. “Max loves me and I care deeply for him. It will be a . . . a pleasant life.”

Uncle Brownlow straightened in his chair, clearly sensing that she was placating him. He leaned forward and looked her straight in the eyes. “That may be, but know this . . . if this boy, the one you love, has a change of heart, I will support your decision. I will not have you throwing your happiness away to support an old man. Do you hear me, young lady?”

Olivia nodded, wishing with all her heart it was that simple. She loved Jack, body and soul. But society separated them, just like her mother and father. And look how that had turned out. “Thank you, Uncle. I love you so.” She rose and enfolded his thin shoulders in a hug, his comforting scent of soap and peppery tobacco enveloping her.

Tonight, she would tell Jack of the engagement and end things between them once and for all. Making an excuse to her uncle, she walked through the garden toward the house. A temperate breeze ruffled strands of her hair against her cheeks, but in her heart, it was the dead of winter.