She gazed over the classroom of boys bent over their etiquette test. Norman’s question seemed to never leave her as she weighed her options, but she knew she had to decide soon, as he expected her answer at the cotillion ball tomorrow night.
She glanced down at her sketch, which was supposed to be of Norman but had taken a very Malcolm-like turn. She added a fallen curl to the forehead, hoping it would begin to resemble Norman again. All those years, I dreamt of Norman asking for my hand. Even when I was engaged to Robert, some part of me still hoped Norman would ride up and declare his love for me as an impediment at my wedding ceremony, saving me from a marriage of convenience. Yet even now, Norman didn’t mention loving me. She twisted her pen between her thumb and forefinger. But, he did say that he’d support my dreams. What other motive but love would cause him to propose since he knows my fortune is going to the school? Lord, please give me some direction.
“Mrs. Olivier?” One of the seventh-grade boys called to her with his hand raised.
She snapped her sketchbook shut. “You have a question, Jeff?”
He pointed to Julia in the door.
Giving him a nod of thanks, she scooted her chair back and crossed the room. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a low voice.
“I need to talk with you”—she gave Colette a pointed stare—“about you know what. It’s urgent.”
Seeing as the boys had lost all concentration, she rubbed her forehead and announced, “Let’s call this test a practice round and have an early recess, shall we?”
The boys hooted as they charged past Julia, heading for the backyard and freedom.
Julia pressed her hands over her ears. “How do you bear such violent din? Is it possible to find a quiet spot?”
“This way.” Colette led her sister up into her private parlor where they could not be overheard by little ears. “After a while, you don’t notice the noise so much and it becomes more of a hum.” She chuckled at Julia’s horror. “If it ever is quiet, then you have a problem.” She pulled the bell cord and motioned for Julia to have a seat. “So what was so urgent that you had to interrupt my class?”
Julia sank onto the settee. “You can’t trust Norman.”
Confused, Colette clicked the door shut. “Why would you say that when you are the one pushing me to accept his hand?”
“Yes, but I overheard him talking with Father in the study last night, and”—Julia dipped her chin—“Father requested that, once the marriage certificate is signed, Norman seize your assets.”
“What?” Feeling the room spin, she sank next to Julia. “But he promised I could keep the school.”
“Which Father hopes will close in six months’ time without the proper funds.”
“And Norman?” She pressed her fingers to her lace jabot as Julia gave her a pained stare.
“While he didn’t agree to Father’s plan, he feels you will choose to close the school on your own volition when you tire of the novelty.”
The breath left her lungs and she was left with one thought. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Julia whispered, drawing her handkerchief from her sleeve. “I wish I wasn’t, but it’s all true.”
She rose and went to the window, letting her forehead rest against the warm pane. Well, that was quick.
Her sister came and wrapped her arm around Colette’s shoulders. “Were you so very in love with him?”
Colette gave a shaky laugh. “I’m more relieved than anything.”
“What?” Julia drew back.
“Norman promised me everything I wanted, but something was holding me back, and now I know why.” Her gaze found Malcolm in the side garden, creating a raised bed for part of the agriculture class.
“Oh.” Julia tucked her unused handkerchief into her reticule. “Well, I’m glad you took it so well. And it’s not as if he were the only eligible bachelor who is interested in you. They’ve merely taken a step back out of respect for Norman.” She gave Colette a peck on the cheek. “We will find you a new suitor who respects your school, never fear.”
“Is it so bad that I only wish to marry again if I absolutely adore the man I am to wed? Marriage to Robert was so hard, but I know it can be wonderful.” She watched as Malcolm stooped to help Darvy plant his vegetable seeds. “I know it can be sweet. I want that.” She turned to Julia. “Is it too much to hope that a widow like me could have a second chance at love?”
Julia clasped her hands around Colette’s. “If anyone deserves to be cherished, it’s you.”
“For all his faults, Norman would’ve tried to cherish me, but I know now that we could never make each other happy. I’m too independent for him, and he is too set in his ways for me. If I am ever to marry again, I’m going to wait for the Lord to bring me my husband. I’ve tried society’s ways and they failed me. It’s time to trust in Him with every aspect of my life.”
At Julia’s departure, Colette opened her inkwell to pen Norman a letter, thanking him for his offer but firmly refusing. Feeling no need to accuse him of scheming with her father, she signed her name with a flourish and descended the stairs to set it on the mail tray.
Hearing Luca practicing on the piano, she paused in the doorway to find that he wasn’t alone. There, with the afternoon light spilling onto her beautiful, dark locks, Malcolm held Katie in his arms as they waltzed about the music room. Colette stiffened, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. She had a hard time swallowing back the lump in her throat as Malcolm stepped on Katie’s hem and, giggling, she fell against his chest to avoid having her skirts ripped.
“Really, Malcolm, we’ve been dancing for weeks. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to tear my skirt.” Katie winked boldly at Malcolm as he righted her.
Before she could be spotted, Colette slipped into the shadows of the hallway and deposited her letter, feeling cold. If I’m to be alone, so be it. Lord, help me bear it.
With tears stinging and her lungs burning, she turned away. Then she heard something shatter in the direction of the kitchen. Exhaling, she swiped at her cheeks and changed course to find Tommy and the twins covered in flour and Davey and Darvy fighting over the bowl of batter. “Boys! What on earth?”
Darvy silently pulled his finger from the batter, and the boys shuffled in the flour for an explanation.
“Why didn’t you ask the cook for a snack if you were hungry?” She lifted her skirts to avoid the flour on the floor and reached for a clean rag to wipe off their faces.
“We wanted to surprise you—” Davey began but stopped as Darvy elbowed him in the ribs.
“Surprise me? Well, indeed you have, but for what occasion did you want to surprise me?” She bit the inside of her mouth as she ran the rag over Darvy’s face.
Relieved that she wasn’t angry, Tommy shrugged. “The cotillion ball is tomorrow, so we wanted to make a chocolate cake to say sorry for almost breaking your toe five times.”
The door swung open, and Ralph, the eldest boy, halted in his tracks at the sight of Colette standing in the middle of the mess. “I said to wait for me, fellows. I’m sorry, Mrs. Olivier. I guess they”—he glared at the others—“got too excited to wait while I dug up my ma’s old recipe.”
Her heart warmed at the boys rallying together for her. Grinning, she grabbed an apron. “Ralph, you’re the teacher tonight, because my mama never let me near the stove. Let’s get baking!” The Lord had seen to it that she would never be alone on this earth again.
Dressed in a new satin cerulean gown with a low, square neck, pointed waist, and short puffed sleeves, Colette felt rather exposed after wearing such dowdy clothes in public for years, but as it was for the cotillion ball, she hoped her guests would deem it appropriate. Giving one last twirl in the ballroom looking glass, she surveyed the room, checking that everyone and everything was in its place.
Not a minute too soon, Katie brought in the boys and instructed them to stand tall in their formal wear as Mrs. Wilson heralded in the girls from her Sunday school class along with their chaperones. Colette laughed behind her fan as she watched the boys halt their fidgeting and become uncharacteristically quiet while the girls gathered on the other side of the room and the musicians began to play.
To get the dancing started, Colette and Ralph began the first waltz. The young man led her about the room with confidence, and Colette was filled with pride that he had made it through the dance without a single mishap. With a curtsy, she whispered her congratulations and pointed him in the direction of a pretty raven-haired girl.
Jumping at the touch on the small of her back, Colette turned to find Norman. “Mr. Hartley!”
“So formal.” He grinned. “May I have the honor of this dance, Mrs. Olivier?”
She felt the blood drain from her face and glanced around for Julia, hoping her sister could save her. Why is that girl always late? “You wish to dance with me?”
“Please.” He gave her a bow. “I’ve dreamed of little else during my business trip.”
He didn’t get the letter, she thought with horror. “Wait!”
Norman pulled her onto the dance floor. “I had thought I’d get a better welcoming than this,” he teased, “all things considered.”
“Norman, can we go outside and talk?” she whispered, feeling frantic as he whirled her about in the candlelight.
“Eager to kiss me again, are you?” He winked at her. “Well, you’ll have to wait, little lady. I have been dying to hold you close, and as dancing is the only means of doing that until we are wed, I plan to keep you on the dance floor all evening.”
The heat rushed to her cheeks as she attempted to put a little distance between them as they waltzed. “Norman…I know what Father asked you to do.”
He missed a step and his grip tightened. “Regarding?”
“The school,” her voice strained. “He asked you to consider seizing my assets.”
“But I didn’t agree to it,” he replied, eyes wide as if he was more taken aback over being caught than ashamed of the conversation that transpired.
“But you didn’t say you wouldn’t,” she whispered, almost apologetically. “And how can I trust a man who won’t even stand up to the bullying of my own father? I sent you a note explaining everything. Didn’t you get it?”
“No. I came straight from the station so as to not miss your school’s debut dance.” He pressed his lips into a thin line.
“May I cut in?” Malcolm tapped him on the shoulder.
At the sight of the Irishman, Norman looked as if he might begin throwing punches, but he clenched his jaw and gave her a slight bow. “Let’s talk more later.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, truly meaning it, “but there’s nothing to discuss.”
Malcolm placed a hand on her waist and waltzed her a little stiffly about the room with the rest of the class, sending the chaperones twittering behind their fluttering fans.
“I thought you said you didn’t dance.” Although relieved at his timing, she couldn’t help but jab, still stinging from his rejection.
“I didn’t, but I’ve been practicing in the hope that one day, I could do this”—he twirled her out onto the veranda.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?” she whispered. “We need to get back inside at once before people begin to talk.”
“I heard about Norman’s proposal. You can’t marry him.”
“That, sir, is none of your business.” She moved to head back inside.
He took her by the elbows, turning her to him. “You can’t marry him because he doesn’t love you.”
Is it that obvious? Hurt filled her features as she tried to pull away.
“I do,” he whispered and reached out, stroking her cheek.
“What?” Her voice caught in her throat.
“I love you, Colette Olivier. Am I foolish to think you feel the same? We are from two completely different worlds, but I can’t help thinking that we belong together…even though everyone is pushing you toward someone more suited to you.” He took her hand in his. “But no one can force you to marry this time.”
“What about Miss O’Dell?” she fumbled.
“Katie?”
“I saw you two dancing with only Luca as a chaperone. You didn’t seem to have any trouble asking her to dance for the last few weeks.” She lifted her chin.
Malcolm inhaled sharply through his teeth. “You saw that, did you?”
She gave a curt nod, disappointed he apparently had attempted to hide it from her.
“Nothing happened between us. She is seeing a close friend of mine.”
“Then why—?”
“We were dancing because I felt bad that I couldn’t help you in your cotillion class. I know the dances of the middle class, but your upper classes have a different way of doing things, so I asked Katie to teach me how to dance like a proper gentleman.”
“Oh.” She blushed, dazed by how far he went out of his way to please her.
“I love you, Colette, and I believe in our calling to raise these boys, but I don’t see why we can’t do it together as husband and wife. People may say I’m an opportunist, but I don’t care one whit about your money. I want you to spend it all on our legacy, our boys and our school. And if you ever had doubts of me…” He pulled a single pink ribbon, stained on the ends with faded ink, and draped it in her palm.
She traced the ribbon. “Is this…?”
“Aye. It’s only ever been you in my heart, Colette,” he whispered, his hands at her waist, drawing her near as the violinists began to play “Love’s Old Sweet Song,” its enchanting lilt floating out and enveloping them. “Say you’ll be mine and let me cherish you forever.”
She couldn’t breathe. All she could think of was kissing this man who loved her.
“If you need to think about it, I understand.” Malcolm misinterpreted her silence.
“I don’t.”
“Oh.” His expression fell as he stepped back. “I see.”
“Because I want everything you want.” She closed the distance between them. “I want to love and be loved. I want someone who will treasure my boys, teach them to be men, and do anything to protect them and me. You have my hand and my heart, Malcolm Reilly.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lifted her lips to his and lost herself in his kiss only to find the warmth and tenderness she had been dreaming of for years.