28

Olivia awoke the next day filled with new determination. If she had any hope of keeping Abigail, desperate measures needed to be taken. Mark’s words yesterday had inadvertently given her an idea, a potential way to be able to adopt the girl, and though it seemed farfetched, she had to at least try.

She carried Abigail downstairs and moved the bassinet from the parlor to the dining room, intending to have a quick bite to eat before putting her plan into action.

The main floor was oddly quiet at this early hour. Only Mrs. Neale seemed to be up and about, with a big pot of porridge ready on the stove. Olivia took her breakfast into the deserted dining room and sat, enjoying the solitude.

She was just finishing her coffee when the doorbell rang. Trepidation beat in her throat, and she prayed it wasn’t Mrs. Linder to take Abigail. Olivia would never be ready for that.

Instead, Mark Henshaw stood on the front porch, looking freshly groomed in a tweed jacket, his brown hair neatly combed. “Good morning, Olivia. May I come in?” He gave her an uncertain smile.

The coffee in her stomach churned. What would bring him by again so soon? “Certainly. Come into the dining room.” She led him inside and sat down. Even though it was summer, a morning chill hovered in this room where the sun never reached to warm it. “Would you like some coffee?”

“No, thank you. I can’t stay long.” Mark took a seat across from her. “I wanted to talk to you before my shift at the hospital.” The somber tone of his voice told Olivia this would not be good news. “I heard from Jane Linder late yesterday. I had to report that we had no new information about Mary. No one has come forward to say they are looking for her, and we haven’t been able to identify any relatives. Which means . . .”

Olivia’s spirits sank. “They’ll be coming for Abigail soon.”

“Likely today or tomorrow, depending on how long the paperwork takes.” He gave a sympathetic shrug. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stall her longer.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I knew this would happen sooner or later.”

Several sets of feet thumped down the stairs, accompanied by a chorus of female chatter. At almost the same time, Abigail gave a loud squawk.

“I’d best be getting to the hospital,” Mark said as he rose.

Olivia stood as well and lifted the baby from the bassinet. “Thank you for coming by. I appreciate you letting me know.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later in the week for the residents’ checkups, if not before.” He gave her a quick smile, then moved into the corridor, greeting Patricia, Nancy, and Cherise as he went.

Olivia escorted him out and stood on the porch, wishing she could appreciate the beautiful day that was dawning. But a storm might as well be brewing, because by all accounts, Mrs. Linder could show up at any moment to take Abigail. On a sigh, Olivia closed her eyes and kissed the baby’s soft head, firming her determination to find a solution.

If she had any chance at all of keeping this sweet girl, she needed to put her plan into motion now.

Darius had considered going over to confront Olivia before coming into the office that morning but had just as quickly rejected the idea. As his father had said last night, Darius needed time to process everything before he saw her again. Time to have his emotions under control in order to be more objective. Perhaps in a day or two, he’d feel able to do just that.

Yet as the morning waned, he found he wasn’t able to concentrate on work, his mind continually drifting from Olivia to Meredith. In the end, praying for them both was the only thing that eased his worries.

When someone knocked on his door, he actually welcomed the interruption from the thoughts that kept circling in his brain. “Come in.”

The door opened hesitantly, and Olivia stepped inside. “Hello, Darius.”

A thousand emotions surged through his chest all at once, making it difficult to breathe. He jerked to his feet. “Olivia. What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you—if you have a few minutes.” She was wearing a dress he’d never seen before. It was blue with yellow and white flowers, paired with a yellow cardigan to match. She looked even prettier today if possible, her hair neatly rolled in the latest style, her lips painted a pale shade of pink. Was this for him, or was she on her way somewhere else?

“I’m free for the moment. Have a seat.” He glanced into the outer work area, where his office mates strained to catch a glimpse of what was going on, then firmly closed his door before resuming his seat.

He wasn’t prepared for this meeting. Hadn’t determined what he’d say when he saw her again. Now he’d be forced to act purely on instinct. “What can I do for you?” he asked in a level voice.

“I . . . I’m not sure how to begin.” Olivia seemed anxious, clutching her handbag and biting her bottom lip.

Alarm snaked through his system. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes. I mean, no. That is . . .” She pressed her lips together, then huffed out a loud breath. “I have a proposition to make.”

He schooled his features to keep his surprise from showing. Was this something to do with the property? Or could it be more personal? His conflicting emotions waged a battle within him, but he squared his shoulders. She’d done him a favor by talking to Meredith. He could at least hear her out. “What sort of proposition would that be?”

“A type of merger, you might say.” She leaned forward on her chair. “I know you were recently planning to marry Meredith. I was wondering if—” she drew in a breath—“if you’d consider marrying me instead.”

Darius simply stared, certain he hadn’t heard her right. Had she just asked him to marry her?

“You said you need a mother for Sofia,” she rushed on, “and I need a husband in order to adopt Abigail. It would be an advantageous match for both of us. I promise to be a good mother to your daughter and do my best to be a good wife to you as well.” Her brown eyes swam with a mixture of hope and what looked like terror.

Terror that he would say yes or that he’d turn her down?

Darius dragged a hand over his jaw, then got to his feet and walked unsteadily to the window, his heart beating too loudly in his chest. For a few seconds, he simply stared out at the buildings in the distance.

How did he begin to process this? If she’d asked him before he’d learned about her past, his answer might have been very different. But now, all he could think about was her lack of faith in him. Everything he knew about her had been thrown into question, leaving him confused and unsure if he could trust himself. More importantly, he had Sofia’s best interest to consider.

When at last he turned to face her, he kept his expression as neutral as possible. “Do you remember why I wouldn’t marry Meredith? Because she’d deceived me about her pregnancy?” He pinned her with a hard stare. “It turns out you haven’t exactly been honest with me either.”

The blood drained from her cheeks, and she closed her eyes. “Meredith told you,” she said flatly.

“She assumed I already knew.” He paced behind his chair, tension twisting his insides. “I don’t understand, Olivia. After all the conversations we’ve had, why did you never tell me you’d had a child? That you were once one of those women in trouble, which was your real reason for opening Bennington Place?” Despite his best effort, hurt and anger laced his voice.

When she opened her eyes, misery swirled in her gaze. “I . . . I was ashamed. Afraid I’d lose your respect. And your friendship.”

“You must have told some people. Like Ruth.” He stiffened. “And probably the doctor. Why was I so different?” He hated the petulant tone to his voice but couldn’t seem to prevent it.

Olivia stared at her lap. “Ruth knows my story, or most of it. As for Dr. Henshaw, he figured out a large part of it on his own after he treated me when I was ill. But I never told him or Ruth the full extent of what I went through. I’ve never told anyone that.” Her lips quivered as she got to her feet, looking ready to bolt.

He moved toward her, needing more answers before he let her go. “Your fiancé, the one who died in the war. Was he the father of your child?”

She nodded. “He’d already left for duty when I found out I was expecting.”

Tension seized his muscles. What type of cad made love to his fiancée and then left her to face the consequences of their actions while he went off to war? Darius couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Olivia to break the news to her parents. “Meredith said your family disowned you. Did you have the baby in a maternity home?”

“No.” A stricken expression crossed her face. “I didn’t have that option because . . .” She bit her lip. “Because my father had me arrested.”

“Arrested?” Disbelief roiled in his gut. “What on earth for?”

Her gaze remained fused to the floor. “There’s a little-known law where a woman can be charged with being incorrigible if she’s pregnant, unmarried, and under twenty-one. The authorities had no choice but to incarcerate me.”

“He had you put in jail?” Darius’s mouth fell open before he clamped his jaw shut. He must look like a fish the way his mouth kept gaping open.

Olivia nodded. “I was sent to the Mercer Reformatory for Women.”

Darius scrubbed a hand over his eyes. How could a father treat a daughter so cruelly? Nothing could make him betray Sofia that way—ever.

“Did you give birth in jail, then?”

“No. When I went into labor, they took me to the hospital.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I got to hold my son for about five minutes before the woman from Children’s Aid took him away.” Moisture glinted in her eyes, and she blinked hard several times.

His own throat grew tight just thinking about it. How could anyone be so heartless to a young mother? No wonder Olivia wanted to provide a safe haven for women. To allow them the option of keeping their child if they chose to.

If only she’d been given that chance.

His shoulders sagged as the anger seeped out of him. This woman had endured so much heartache. It was no wonder she wanted to keep Abigail after losing her son that way.

Slowly he came around the desk. “I feel terrible for everything you’ve gone through, Olivia. I see now why it would be hard to share such a painful story.”

“Thank you.” She still wouldn’t look at him directly.

“I also understand why you want to keep Abigail. I wish . . .” He shook his head. What did he wish? He had no clue at this moment, except that he wished he could erase her pain.

When Olivia raised her head, the raw anguish on her face sent a spasm through his chest.

“It’s all right, Darius. I had no right to come here and burden you with my problems. The truth is . . .” Tears swam in her eyes, highlighting the amber flecks in their depths. “I don’t deserve to be a mother or a wife. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her voice broke on a sob, and she rushed to the door, flung it open, and dashed out.

“Olivia, wait!” He ran after her, but she was already halfway across the outer office.

She bypassed the elevator and raced through the doorway to the stairs.

Darius came to a halt, conscious of the stares of everyone in the office. He couldn’t let Olivia leave in such a distraught state. He had to catch her, make her understand . . .

Darius made eye contact with the receptionist. “If anyone asks, I’ll be back shortly.”

Then he charged down the stairs, taking them two at a time. By the time he reached the main level, however, there was no sign of her. He ran out onto the sidewalk and craned his neck in both directions, but to no avail. She was gone. Swallowed up in the sea of pedestrians.

His stomach sank to the tips of his shoes. He could go after her. Catch up with her at the maternity home and . . . and do what? He certainly wasn’t ready to propose marriage, so really what was the point in prolonging the misery? He let out a defeated breath as he slowly made his way back inside.

His father was right. The only thing that would help him now was time. Time to process all that he’d learned today and allow God to work on his heart. Hopefully then, the Lord would make it clear what Darius needed to do next.