Chapter 38 Olivia

Chapter 38

Olivia

That must be broken, thought Olivia. She glanced up at the grandfather clock. Only a few minutes had passed since she last checked. Her footsteps echoed as she paced the foyer. The newspaper with her article was tucked under her arm and she chewed on a thumbnail. Great, now you’re just as uncouth as your sister.

She flipped through the pages of the Sunday papers, splitting her time on her Defender essay, calling for action and forgiveness, and the society paper’s coverage of Ruby’s wedding. It was a beautiful—no, magical —event. Her friend made a gorgeous bride in a dress of her own design. Olivia attended without an escort, happy to watch her best friend’s special day. She’d exchanged looks with Mr.Stone during the ceremony, though he was hard to read, after which he’d offered her and her family a brief greeting, congratulated the happy couple, and left before the reception, her chance to speak with him dashed. The reception went late into the night. It was the first relatively cool day and night in months. The rains had doused the heat, and they were able to enjoy the sunset ceremony at the Tremaines’ home.

The clock chimed now, and she froze. The voices from her father’s library changed tone. Inside, her father, siblings, and Mr.Stone discussed the future of Davenport Carriage Company’s automobile division. She and her mother witnessed John and Helen’s formal proposal to the board, and they were, of course, outstanding. Now, her father said, the real work would begin. Most days, the four of them went downtown to the offices to work. But on days his leg was particularly stiff, Mr.Davenport held a smaller meeting at home. Later, John, Helen, and Mr.Stone would head into town.

This was an arrangement Olivia would now use to her advantage. She stilled when she heard the door creak open. It was Helen making a mad sprint for the kitchen. Her sister spotted her and stopped. After a quick glance over her shoulder, Helen said, “Good luck.”

Olivia offered her a sheepish smile. She looked back toward the hallway, waiting .

The door creaked open again.

“Ugh,” said Olivia.

“Nice to see you too.” John pinched her cheek as he passed her. He left the front door open and skipped down the stairs to where his automobile was parked in the drive. She leaned against the doorframe. “Where are you off to?”

“Meeting Amy-Rose for dinner.” He smiled and his dimple deepened. With a flourish, he hopped over the door and slammed a straw hat on his head. Olivia laughed, happy that the two of them finally decided to give their love a chance.

“Excuse me.”

Olivia jumped. “Mr.Stone!” The newspapers fell to the floor. They both bent down to pick them up, and Olivia felt a sharp pain on the crown of her head.

“Ow!” said Mr.Stone.

“Sorry,” they said at the same time.

“I thought Helen was the one with a hard head,” she said, rubbing her scalp, laughing faintly.

“It may be a familial trait.”

She looked up then to catch a ghost of a smile before it disappeared. They stared at each other. Olivia’s well-rehearsed speech flitted away.

“You signed your name.” He stood, adjusting his glasses, his gaze falling to the heading of the newspaper he now held. When his eyes met hers, she felt like he saw all of her. “I think it’s your best work yet.”

“Is that all?”

He laughed. “Wasn’t that the point?”

“Yes, but…” She stopped. “I’m sorry.” She held his stare. “When I decided to stay and Mr.DeWight left, I had thought only of what I could do for the Cause, and for myself. I didn’t think I could fall in love so soon. Let alone with someone my parents had selected for me. I did not yet realize to whom my heart would truly belong. You surprised me, Mr.Stone. Though I resisted at first. And I want to give us a chance. A real one.” She took a step away from the door, clearing his path.

Everett Stone bowed his head. She waited for him to adjust his frames again, some indication that he was considering her words. “Do you want to know my favorite line. From your essay?”

Olivia didn’t trust herself to speak. Though she had written every word, she was only aware now of how he stood mere inches from her.

“?‘What is the hope that visits us in many forms, but love returning again and again?’?” His eyes returned to her face, caressing her brows, her jaw, her cheek with their marvelous intensity. His full lips parted. He leaned in slightly, holding her gaze. “Good evening, Miss Davenport.”

Olivia let out a breath. She returned Mr.Stone’s smile and watched him walk to his carriage. She stood there, replaying the moment in her mind. Hope visits us in many forms.

Hetty walked up to her side, and after a moment of companionable silence, asked, “Any news?”

Olivia turned to her friend, grinning. “Yes, the date of the next march. September twenty-second.”