OLIVIA
Chapter Thirty-One

The evening sun gave way to the long shadows of darkness as it crept across the horizon. With a start, Olivia awoke and glanced around the shadowy confines of the bedroom. A prickly sensation ran across her skin as she sat up. She felt odd, as if she were still inside a dream…perhaps she was. As the events of the day came back to her, she realized that it wasn’t a dream, but a come-to-life nightmare.

Rose was alive.

She closed her eyes as if to shield herself from the truth. But it was of no use to try to pretend that it had not happened. It was real…all too real.

Then there was Cal. Dear God, what would he do if he ever found out the truth? The lie she had produced lay like a brick on her hurting heart. She was not pregnant. That much she was certain of. How she had told such a lie showed the ambiguousness of her thinking at the time.

Throwing back the light blanket, she slid from the bed and stood on shaky legs. She had to compose herself before facing him again. Running a hand through her tumbled hair, she made her way to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water. Clicking on the light, she stood before the basin, letting the cool water flow over her hands before bringing it up to her hot cheeks. She caught her image in the mirror and stopped her movements.

Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed pink, but other than that she looked no different on the outside. But on the inside, everything was different. Now she carried the weight of a secret so heavy it was burdensome on her soul. She would never be free from it, nor could she ever release her hold on it. It was hers to carry for eternity. Why had she gone? Why had she had to pry and learn the truth? Why?

Pressing her hand to her mouth, she felt an overwhelming need to scream, but she could not. She could only bury it deep inside of her, so deep no one would ever know save herself the fate of Rose. She gritted her teeth in frustration, and then it slowly faded as it was replaced with regret. The blame of this could not be placed on anyone but herself. Rose didn’t want to be found. She had made that perfectly clear.

A light tap at the door signaled someone was there. Grasping the hand towel, Olivia dried her face as she made her way across the room. She opened the door to find Marietta there, a worried expression on her pretty face.

"Miss Olivia, you’re up."

"Yes," she confirmed. "Just barely."

"Mr. Hockley sent me here to wake you and ready you for dinner."

"Very well." She stepped back to let the girl enter. It was obvious Marietta had something on her mind. Her frown deepened as she turned to Olivia once she had shut the door behind her.

"Miss Olivia, I must speak with you about something," she started.

"Yes? What is it, Marietta?" Olivia urged, seeing the girl was clearly upset.

"It’s Mr. Hockley. When he came home and you weren’t here, I…I wasn’t sure what to tell him. You had told me that you were going to have lunch with him…in town…and when you weren’t with him and he wanted to know where you were…I didn’t know what to say."

A groan escaped Olivia’s lips before she could stop it. Yet another lie she had told. She hadn’t thought of it, not until this very minute. Taking her by the hand, she squeezed it tightly. "Oh, Marietta, I’m so sorry for putting you in that position."

"Miss Olivia, I knew when you weren’t with him that you had not been to lunch with him, but I gave nothing away. I know how Mr. Hockley can be…and I didn’t want to be the cause of any turmoil between you. So, I told him nothing, which may or may not have been the right thing to do."

"You did the right thing, Marietta. I apologize again for that. I should have realized that Cal is not one to be fooled."

"He was upset, to be sure, but I held firm. My loyalties are to you, ma’am." She nodded stalwartly. "Not to him."

Smiling weakly, Olivia hugged her. "Thank you. I appreciate it more than you know."

Marietta nodded, and then stepped back, as if embarrassed by being so intimate with her mistress. She smiled kindly, though, and lifted her head. "I will help you dress now."

Thirty minutes later, Olivia joined Cal out on the patio. There were torches lit to add a billowy glow across the expanse of the area. The atmosphere was strangely calm. The gentle breeze and the soft roar of the waves in the distance added a tranquil feeling, and yet there seemed to still be an underlying tenseness around them.

It was then that she noticed Patrick standing in the far corner with an undeterminable expression on his face. His eyes locked with hers as she came closer to the table. She felt uneasy with him being so close, and turned away from him. He always saw too much where she was concerned, and this was one time she wanted to give nothing away.

The chef brought their food to them not long after she sat down. It looked to be roast duck smothered in a brown sauce, with carrots and asparagus on the side. They began to eat, and that was when she saw Patrick move from his spot to walk towards them.

"If you’ll not be needing me, sir, I’ll make my leave to the kitchen," he addressed Cal, who gave him a slight nod and made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"Go, McBride. Enjoy your dinner."

"Yes, sir." He nodded, and then swept his gaze to Olivia. He pursed his lips tightly, but made no move to say anything else. He abruptly turned from her, and with purposeful strides, walked toward the double doors going into the bungalow.

Olivia watched him until he disappeared inside. She shouldn’t care that he seemed cool with her. That was the way it was supposed to be, but it did bother her, in spite of knowing she should feel otherwise. She suppressed the urge to lash out at all of the unfairness and the lack of control she had over her life anymore. She was being pulled this way and that, and now she had Rose’s secret to contend with, as well. She stabbed her fork into a carrot and began nibbling on it, eating it but not truly tasting it.

She became aware of Cal, who ever-so-often she would catch watching her, as if trying to see past her eyes and into her mind, as if he would see something she wasn’t presenting to him.

"I assume this doctor you saw today is capable?" he asked as he lifted the wine glass to his lips.

She glanced over at him, and after a moment, found her voice. "Yes. He seemed to be," she answered unwaveringly, keeping up the facade of her fabrication.

"And his name?" he asked, watching her reaction closely.

"Smith. I’m not sure of the first name," she lied smoothly. "I’ll see my doctor when we return home next week. I’m not really fond of strangers looking after me."

The only response he gave was to lift his head with a small nod of understanding. "And what, exactly, was his diagnosis? How certain is he of your condition?"

Taking a deep breath, she set her fork down and studied the roast duck before her. "He wasn’t sure I was at all," she answered, and then looked up at him. "He said it was too early to tell. I just had been feeling so run down, I had hoped he could tell me what was wrong. He told me to wait a few more weeks and then see my own physician."

He studied her for a moment, and then gave her a small, one-sided smile. "I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling you’re keeping something from me. You aren’t doing that, are you, Olivia?"

"No," she answered quickly, a little too quickly. Her heart skipped a beat when Cal’s eyes narrowed on her face. She tried to smile, but it wasn’t an easy one. "I’ve told you everything, Cal."

He pushed the plate in front of him away and replaced it with his elbows, linking his fingers together and laying them lightly against his mouth. "I don’t want anything to spoil our time together. But I sense something is not right, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t like being played for a fool."

"Cal." She shook her head slightly. "I’m not doing that. Please, let’s not do this. Why can’t we just enjoy our meal and then take a walk?"

"I’m not sure I feel resolved about your absence today. I’m trying very hard to believe you, but something in your behavior tells me otherwise."

"Why do you insist on pressuring me?" she asked before she could catch herself. "I’ve told you where I was and what I was doing. Why can’t you believe me?"

A soft breeze blew then and sent a lock of dark hair across his forehead. His eyebrows lifted at her mild outburst, and then he smiled, a cool smile that didn’t reach his dark eyes. "And if I do believe you and let the matter drop, that will make you happy?"

"Yes. Of course," she answered resolutely. As much as she hated lying to him, the necessity of it was very clear, more clear than ever now. His suspicions were aroused, and it would take all of her energy to keep them at bay.

"Fine," he drawled, and leaned back in his chair, lowering his eyes in a deceivingly calm manner. "I’ll let the matter drop for now, but should I discover any dishonesty on your part, my retribution will be swift and sure. You know this, don’t you?"

Clenching her jaw tightly, Olivia released a tense breath. "Yes, I’m afraid I do know. I know all too well."

He gave no response, but simply stared at her for a moment. "I believe I’m ready for that walk now. Would you like to join me?"

Giving him her response, she stood to join him. He linked her arm through his as they made their way past the patio and onto the grainy, unstable sand. The night was cool and calm, and no clouds hung overhead to dim the bright light of the moon. As hard as she tried, Olivia could not relax, and before they had gotten very far, she felt another headache coming on. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she tried to push the pain away. Cal noticed this, and stopped abruptly to ask if she wanted to turn back.

"Would you mind terribly?" she asked quietly.

"I suppose not," he said, but there was a hint of irritation behind his voice. Turning back, they came back to the patio again, where the kitchen help was already busy clearing the table from their dinner. Cal gave them no notice as they passed by them and entered the bungalow. He led her to the bedroom, but not before summoning Marietta.

"Help Mrs. Hockley undress and make sure she lies down."

"Yes, Mr. Hockley." Marietta curtsied.

"I’ll be in shortly. I will finish up a few things and then come to you," he said to Olivia.

"All right." She grimaced as another dull pain shot through her head. He left, and Marietta helped her undress as instructed. Once free from her clothing, she lay back down in the bed with a cool cloth Marietta had brought her.

Olivia lay there for the longest time, drifting in and out, not truly asleep but not truly awake, either. She found it difficult to find a comfortable position, and was constantly tossing and turning, careful not to jostle her head.

It was even later when Cal came to bed. She awoke when she felt him move next to her. She lay there quietly, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t disturb her. She was afraid they would get into another discussion about her whereabouts that day, and she simply wasn’t in any condition to deal with it.

Time dragged on, and still she could not find any peace. Her mind was full, from the revelation of Rose being alive to Cal’s reaction if he should ever find out. Try as she might, she could not rid herself of the uneasy feeling that lay like a mantle around her shoulders.

Cal had fallen asleep hours ago, and she lay in the darkness, listening to his even breathing. She realized it was no use and decided to get up and read in the next room. She had brought several books with her on the trip, and she could think of no better time than now to focus her attention on something other than the turmoil that tumbled in her head.

Gently, so as not to disturb Cal, she slid from the mattress and lifted her robe as she padded across the floor. Her books were on the table in the living area of the bungalow. She had had Marietta place them on the table next to the chair where the lamp was.

Shutting the door behind her, Olivia quietly made her way down the small hallway into the living area. She clicked on the small lamp, sending a golden glow across the room. She scanned the books, lifting one to read the title.

"I’d recommend The Last Voyage Home," a voice said behind her.

With a start, she turned to the sound of it. Patrick was sitting in a lounge chair near the glass doors that led to the patio. His white shirt was hanging loose from his pants and the sleeves were rolled back, exposing his muscular forearms. A cigarette dangled loosely between his fingers as he took her in.

"What are you doing?" she blurted accusatorily.

He shrugged lightly. "Sitting…enjoying the night."

"You startled me. I didn’t know you were out here." She frowned.

"I wasn’t expecting company, either. I thought I was alone."

"I’m sorry I disturbed you," she said as she turned to leave.

"Olivia!" he called after her. She paused for a moment, and turned hesitantly back to him. He stood from the chair, snuffing out the cigarette as he did, and placed his hands in his pockets. "You don’t have to leave on my account."

As she stared at him, the thought came to her that it wouldn’t be on his account, but it would be on hers. She shouldn’t be alone with him. It was too dangerous.

"I had hoped to talk to you. I just didn’t think it would be like this," he told her as he neared her.

"I’m not sure what you would have to talk about with me," she stated, calmer than she felt.

"I’m not blind. I can see something has you upset. You’ve been upset for days now. You’re preoccupied, anxious, and obviously worried about something."

She flinched slightly, taken aback at how astute he was. She clenched her robe together as she tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to her. She shook her head and stepped away from him. "I think I should go. I…I shouldn’t be here right now…"

"Please," he said, but then he paused. He gritted his teeth, shook his head, and looked away from her. "I know I have no right to be concerned, but I am."

"I must go," she breathed, but made no move to leave.

Suddenly, Patrick was in front of her, his eyes taking her in as if he were dying of thirst and she was the only thing that could quench it. His breathing was low and deep, and then he slowly reached up and lightly stroked her cheek.

"Don’t do that," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, don’t do that…"

His gaze turned hard, and the hand that had so gently stroked her cheek now turned into a fist as he pulled it away from her. "Go." He shook his head tightly. "Leave now. If you don’t, I will do something I’ll regret…something I have no right to do…"

She should have done what he ordered, but she didn’t. She was frozen in place, transfixed almost. She watched him as he leaned in closer, so close she could see the tenseness around his mouth. His eyes locked with hers as they stood facing each other.

"I know I have no right to feel what I’m feeling, no right to want what I’m wanting, but God help me, I do. I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman. There’s no rhyme or reason to this, and I wish to God that I could just turn it off, but I can’t...I can’t."

Olivia’s mind was at a loss to register what he had said. He leaned even closer, his lips lingering over hers. She could feel his warm breath against her skin as his hand slid up her arm.

"Tell me to stop. Tell me to leave you alone…" he whispered hotly.

"I…" she started, but could say nothing else.

With a low growl, he cupped her face and shook his head. "I can’t do this. You deserve better than this. I may want you, but I can’t take what is not mine to take. Stay clear of me, Olivia. I’m only man, made of flesh and blood, not stone."

With that, he swung away from her and stalked to the glass doors leading to the patio. She watched him disappear into the darkness until she could no longer see his shadow. She stood in the middle of the empty room, feeling perplexed and bewildered at what had just happened. Finally, she turned and quietly made her way back to the bedroom, back to her husband, back to the burden that was her life.

Chapter Thirty-Two
Stories