Olivia Twist(87)

He arched a dark brow.

“Turns out my father didn’t squander his fortune. In fact, it’s been growing larger every year from all the inventions he had patented before he died.”

Jack froze, motionless save for the vein throbbing in his neck.

“Mr. Appleton discovered my father’s accounts last week. We just needed the missing will. Which Monks conveniently provided in his safe box, and Judge Perkins had delivered here last evening.”

Jack stepped back from her, blinking like a startled barn owl.

Olivia took both his hands in hers. “Jack, if you want to open a theater and play your fiddle every night, I’ll be a happy woman. But I have a better idea . . .”

A slow smile spread across Jack’s face, a chuckle rumbling up from his chest. He pulled her against him, his laughter shaking through Olivia’s body and lighting up her soul. After a moment, he grew quiet and cocked his head to one side. “What’s your better idea?”

“How do you feel about kids?” Olivia grinned. “Lots of them!”





EPILOGUE


1861


The outskirts of London, Hill Orphanage

The mansion vibrated with the pounding of feet as the children ran along the second-floor gallery. Olivia counted twenty-one boys, five girls, and one massive dog tromping down the main staircase. Chip led the pack, leaping from the second step and landing with a grin at her feet. “Miss Livie! Aren’t you playing with us?” The boy eyed Olivia’s skirts.

She tousled Chips silky blond curls. “Did Miss Bridgett finish with your studies already?”

“Yep, she did!” Chip pursed his little mouth and shook his head before correcting himself. “I mean . . . yes, Miss Livie, on account of the beautiful day, Miss Bridgett let us out early for a bit of exercise.”

Children surged around them and scampered down the hallway, presumably headed for the back garden. Several of them called for Olivia to join their team for a cricket match.

“That was perfect, Chip.” She grinned and bent to kiss his baby-soft cheek. “You’re becoming quite the little gentleman.”

“Thank you, Miss Livie!” Chip called over his shoulder as he joined the fray.

Olivia turned back toward the staircase to see Brit and Jack bringing up the rear. Dark heads tilted together, their hair almost identical in shade, except Brit’s curled at his collar. From their good-natured ribbing, it would seem they were both team captains for the pending match.

“That’s not fair. You got her last game!” Brit complained as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Well then, let’s ask her whose team she wants to be on, shall we?” Jack replied before he stalked forward, his gaze locked on hers.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat and then galloped forward. Amazed that he could still send her pulse racing with just a look, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her fingers around the exposed muscles of his arm beneath his short-sleeved jersey. It was safe to say, cricket had become one of her favorite pastimes.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. MacCarron.” His voice was husky as he leaned in and kissed her lips.

“Oh, brother! You don’t play fair, Mr. Jack.” Brit’s nose crinkled and his mouth twisted like he’d just eaten a rank turnip. He spun away and jogged down the hall calling, “Archie’s mine!”

Jack’s arm looped around Olivia’s waist and he pulled her close. “I need you, my sweet. But you’re going to have to get out of those clothes first.”

She turned into him and threaded her fingers into the hair resting against his broad neck. “You’ll have to play without me today. I have guests arriving. If Aunt Becky saw me in trousers and wielding a cricket bat, she might have a conniption.”

Jack grinned devilishly. “That might be interesting. Are you sure I can’t persuade you?”

“Excuse me, Mr. MacCarron.”

They turned to see Thompson approach, his face carefully blank, but a joyful spark shone in his eyes. “Will you be requiring my services this afternoon?”

“Of course, Thompson. We couldn’t play without your precise refereeing skills. It would be a bloodbath out there.” Jack winked at Olivia before turning back to the butler. “And if you would be so kind as to escort Mrs. March to the field, Olivia will need company in the cheering section.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” Thompson responded with enthusiasm just as the front bell sounded.

The butler stepped quickly to the door and opened it to Topher and Violet. The newly engaged couple entered the house arm in arm. Topher had asked for her cousin’s hand as soon as he’d been able to gather the funds to purchase March House. Lois had moved into the Hill Orphanage and greatly enjoyed teaching decorum to all the children. She loved to remind Jack that if she could turn the Artful Dodger into a gentleman, these children didn’t stand a chance at remaining street urchins.

“I’m so glad you’re here, old man.” Jack clapped Topher on the shoulder. “I’m down a cricket player.”

Olivia looked past Violet’s bright coiffure as Thompson shut the door. “Where is Aunt Becky?”

Violet’s meadow-green eyes widened before she explained, “Mother isn’t much for long carriage rides, you know. And doesn’t get out of the city often . . .” She trailed off and looked around the foyer. “I really like what you’ve done—”