“Like what?”
“As though I might perish at any moment.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia murmured. “I didn’t mean to.”
Lady Everwyck smiled again, but this one didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know. But I have no intention of giving up. Not yet.”
“I’m glad. Evander… he will be devastated when you—” Her voice caught.
“When I die,” Lady Everwyck finished softly.
“Yes, but?—”
The older woman raised a hand, silencing her. “You don’t have to soften the truth for me. I’m dying, Olivia. I’ve made peace with that.”
A wave of helplessness washed over her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” Lady Everwyck asked. “It’s not your fault. This body has simply reached its end. There is nothing for you to apologize for.”
Olivia reached for her hand, desperate to do something—anything—that felt like comfort. “I just wish I could help you.”
“You already have,” Lady Everwyck said, squeezing her fingers. “You’re taking care of Evander. That is more than I could ever ask for.”
“I will always care for him,” Olivia promised.
Lady Everwyck’s gaze softened. “It is my greatest hope that one day you will love him, as well.”
Olivia’s heart jolted. “I do love him?—”
“Not affection, Child,” the countess interrupted. “I’m speaking of that rare kind of love. The kind where you will find friendship and romance—all in the same person.”
Olivia looked away, unable to answer. Her feelings for Evander were tangled—deep and steady, yes, but also uncertain. She didn’t know what name to give them. Was it love? And if it wasn’t… would it ever be?
Lady Everwyck didn’t press her. “It’s all right. I know why you married him. You did it for me.”
“That is partially true,” Olivia admitted. “Evander offered his name to protect me. He saved me from ruin. He gave me safety when I had none.”
“And he would do it again,” Lady Everwyck said. “He would do anything for you.”
“And I for him.”
That seemed to please Lady Everwyck. Her lips curved into a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes and crinkled the corners. “You two have always been thick as thieves.”
Olivia laughed. “Only because he used to follow me around.”
“Like the time you dressed as a boy and snuck into his fencing lesson, calling yourself his cousin.”
A laugh bubbled up from Olivia’s chest. “The fencing master didn’t believe me for a moment. ‘Marco’ was not my finest invention.”
“No, it wasn’t,” the countess agreed. “But Evander played along.”
“He always did,” Olivia said, her smile lingering. “I remember when he helped glue feathers onto my arms and convinced me that I could fly. It took hours for the maid to scrub the glue off me.”
Lady Everwyck leaned her head back and laughed, a rich sound that warmed the room. “You were a wild sight. All feathers and bare knees, running across the lawn like you truly believed you’d take flight.”
“I did believe it. But I was only eight.”
The countess’s laughter faded into a thoughtful silence. “I can only imagine what your children will get up to.”
