Olivia Twist(88)
“She still hasn’t forgiven me, has she?” Olivia’s shoulders slumped. Between the murder scandal, her unconventional marriage to Jack, not to mention the wildly unpopular notion of taking in street kids and starting her own orphanage, Olivia had been shunned from London society with a speed akin to lightning. And her ultra-proper Aunt Becky had followed suit.
Vi took Olivia’s hand and shook her head with a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Livie.”
Olivia glanced away from her best friend so she wouldn’t see her eyes welling up. It wasn’t that she missed the fancy parties or even the favor of society; she mourned the loss of the woman who’d accepted her like a daughter. On top of losing Uncle Brownlow, it was almost too much to bear. Her uncle had passed on in peace, trusting that his sister would watch over Olivia after he was gone. Olivia had allowed him the misconception because she believed Aunt Becky simply required time, and that she cared about her beyond society’s predications.
“Violet, I need a moment with my wife, please,” Jack said before he turned to Topher. “If you could head out back and organize the teams, I’ll join you momentarily.”
After Violet and Topher left, Jack took Olivia’s hand in his large, warm fingers. “I have something for you. Wait right here.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips and then sprinted up the stairs.
Olivia sank down on the foyer bench. Some days her uncle’s absence was like a physical ache, but he hadn’t left her alone. He’d blessed her union with Jack and had been able to see the orphanage grow into a home bursting with joy and love.
Jack skipped down the stairs, his right arm tucked behind his back. He came to her and lowered to one knee, his raven hair falling over his eyes. He raked the lock off his face with an impatient, but perfectly familiar gesture, and smiled. “I was going to save this for your next birthday, but now seems an appropriate time to give it to you.” He handed her a small, velvet-covered box.
Having no earthly idea what he could give her that she didn’t already have, Olivia lifted the lid and gasped. There, nestled in a bed of scarlet silk, was a gold, egg-shaped locket. “Is this . . .” Her words deserted her as she lifted the familiar weight and unlatched the tiny clasp with trembling fingers. Her mother’s angelic face stared back at her from the tiny portrait.
“Jack! However did you find it?” Her eyes flooded with tears as she grasped the beloved piece of her past to her chest.
“Well, I thought it was high time I used my talents to do some good. I’ve been tracking it for months. Finally, I followed the trail to an old woman who wouldn’t part with it until I told her the entire sordid tale and why the locket was important to you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Then she refused to let me pay her for it.”
Olivia gazed at the beloved portrait again and Jack moved to sit beside her, looking over her shoulder.
“I’m certain she would be proud of you, Livie. And all that you’ve done with your father’s money.”
“All we have done, Jack.” Olivia smiled into his eyes. She had so very much to be thankful for. “It’s a fine life we have, isn’t it?”
A whisper of Jack’s old intensity captured her gaze as he brushed a tear from her cheek. “I couldn’t imagine a finer life than spending every day with you, Olivia MacCarron.”
And just like that, the Artful Dodger stole her heart, again.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Sometimes authors declare a certain story is “the book of their heart.” Olivia Twist is that to me and more: this story has been thirty-five years in the making. Yes, you read that right . . . thirty-five years.
After seeing the musical Oliver! as a child, I fell in love with the Artful Dodger and the orphan Oliver—who, in my peculiar mind, was always a girl in disguise. I would sit in my bedroom for hours and stare at the album cover as I listened to the soundtrack, belted the songs at the top of my lungs, and then let my imagination run wild as I created further adventures for these beloved characters.
Years later, I read the Dickens novel, Oliver Twist, and although it didn’t line up with the romanticized vision of the musical, it introduced me to the hideously selfish Monks. At this point, I had all the elements of a great book: the altruistic orphan, the reluctant hero, and the evil villain. What I didn’t have were the skills to bring my story to the page.
That changed over many years of study and practice, and in 2011 I began researching the Victorian era and writing the first draft of this novel. I worked on Olivia and Jack’s story in between writing the Doon series, and finally finished it in 2013. But the young adult publishing world wasn’t ready for a historical novel without steampunk elements or vampires, and I received rejection after rejection. But I didn’t give up hope, I had faith that this book would find its place in the world, and I have many of you to thank for that…
My superstar agent, Nicole Resciniti, for being the first to fall in love with this story and for never giving up on it!
I am beyond grateful to my publishing team at Blink; Annette Bourland, Matt Saganski, Sara Bierling, Sara Merritt, Marcus Drenth, Liane Worthington, Jacque Alberta, the design team, the sales team, and everyone at Blink who worked to bring this story to life.
Love and thanks to my family, the Lunekes and the Moeggenbergs. Your encouragement and support continues to be my safe place to land!