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Chapter 36
Olivia gazed around the grand dining room in the elegant London hotel. It had only been a short time since she had been away from London, but it seemed a lifetime ago now.
She watched the sophisticated people dining alongside them, sipping their wine, laughing like they did not have a care in the world. Most of them were members of the Ton. She even knew a few of them. Then she glanced down at her wedding ring, shining gold in the light of the crystal chandelier suspended from the ceiling.
She was not Lady Olivia Oakley, unmarried eligible lady, any longer. She was Mrs Alexander Fletcher, the wife of a sea captain and the heir to an earldom. A member of a different species entirely. Or so it felt like.
A new woman. A hybrid lady. Who exactlywasshe anymore?
“Happy?” asked Alexander, looking at her a little desperately across the table.
Olivia forced a smile onto her face. “Very happy,” she said, picking up her wine glass. “It is nice to be back in London, even if it is for just a short while.”
“We have a week,” he said, staring at her intently. “This is our honeymoon. I thought we might go to the ballet at Covent Garden one night if you like.”
Olivia spluttered her wine. “Ballet? You hate the ballet! I have not forgotten that night when you talked during the entire performance, setting my nerves on edge.”
He laughed. “It is true that it was an unfamiliar experience for me,” he said. “But I know that you love it and that is all that matters. I want you to enjoy this time, Olivia. And I want us to be together as much as possible.”
She picked at the edge of the tablecloth, not looking at him. “Together as much as possible? You mean when you are not at the docks?” She could not manage to keep the edge out of her voice. Quickly, she glanced up at him.
He reddened. “I told you I need to sort out the Caribbean trip,” he said, taking a deep sip of wine. “Whether the ship sails with me or without me, I need to organise it. There is much to be done so the ship is ready in time and has all the cargo it needs for the voyage.”
Olivia sipped her wine. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “We both know that you want to be on the ship when it sails,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. “I have already told you that you have my blessing to go. Why are you dithering about it?”
He gazed at her steadily. Unblinking. She was the first to duck her head and look away.
She took another sip of wine. She knew she was being fractious. This was supposed to be the honeymoon they had never had. A week in London together, staying at this elegant hotel. He had already taken her to a play one night, where he had suffered throughOthello. During the day they shopped on Bond Street or promenaded through Hyde Park. That was when they managed to get out of bed. There was quite thorough entertainment there.
She knew he was trying his hardest to make her happy, for her to enjoy this time together, but it was overshadowed by the upcoming voyage to the Caribbean. Almost apologetically, he slipped away for a few hours in the afternoon, going to the docks. When he returned to take her to dinner, she tried not to notice the gleam in his blue eyes, the air of suppressed excitement which always seemed to surround him after visiting the docks.
He is a seaman,she thought despondently.That is his natural habitat. He is like a bird in a gilded cage with me, desperately trying to escape.
“You sound like you want me to go,” he said, an edge to his own voice. “You sound like you will be quite content without me.”
She put down her wine glass, glaring at him. “What do you want me to say? If I beg you not to leave me, you will probably sail away anyway.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I do not want you to be with me under sufferance. You have done your duty by me. You married me when you did not want to. If you wish to have your own life now, I shall not stand in your way.”
Every word felt like it was being torn from her throat. She wanted to beg him to stay with her. She wanted to throw herself at his feet and weep like Mary Magdalene, imploring him not to leave her. But that would be exposing her feelings too much and it would only embarrass him. He would sail away regardless, and she would have to live with the humiliation of revealing her feelings for him when he had none for her at all.
He kept gazing at her across the table, looking immeasurably sad. Her heart twisted.
“It is not sufferance for me being married to you, Olivia,” he said in a quiet voice. “I know that neither of us were intending to become engaged that day, but that does not mean that I despise you for it. Very far from it.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Quickly, she turned her face away, looking in the opposite direction. She did not want him to see the tears in her eyes.
It was not the impassioned declaration of love she wanted or needed. It was a measured speech saying that he liked her well enough and that their unexpected marriage had turned out better than he had expected. She felt like a consolation prize that he had learned to live with.
She knew she wanted too much from him. More than he was capable of giving. She knew his heart had been broken once and forever—that it seemed it could never be healed. It seemed she was not the woman who could fix that heart. He would always keep her at a distance, no matter how close they became. No matter how close they were now.
Fervently, she wished she could ask him about his lost love. Would talking about her and what had happened to him help him finally move past it? But the words stuck in her throat. She simply did not know how he would react. He might be furiously angry with her that she had dared try to breach the high walls of his heart. She might lose him forever. If she was not about to anyway.
***
Later that evening, Olivia was reclining in a tub in their room, enjoying a hot bath, still mulling it all over in her mind. Alexander had stepped out for a moment to meet with one of his crew. He had told her he would be an hour or more, that it was the only time he could meet the man, that it was unavoidable. But suddenly, her mind was beset with doubt.
The water sloshed slightly as she sat up in the tub. Was he meeting another woman? The hour was late. Why could not he have met this man tomorrow? And how could she bear the thought of it?
Her heart clenched with distress. This was what it was going to be like if he left her on the voyage. Every moment would be an agony, wondering where he was and what he was doing. She would be imagining him making love to other women. He would be gone a very long time. She knew how powerful his urges were. How would he be able to resist?
