Miss Rosetti put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
Mrs. Bennington, on the other hand, remained expressionless. A few seconds later, she straightened. “It’s a generous offer, there’s no denying that. Much more than the last time Mr. Walcott tried to entice me to sell. But you can tell your boss that my answer remains the same.” With one finger, she slid the paper across the table. “I respectfully decline.”
Miss Rosetti’s shoulders sagged in obvious relief.
“But why would you turn down that kind of money?” Darius couldn’t fathom her reluctance. She’d never get a better price for her property.
“This home belonged to my late husband and to his parents before him. It holds far too many memories for me to let it go.” Mrs. Bennington got regally to her feet. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, Mr. Reed. Now if you’ll excuse us, we must get on with our day.”
His mind scrambled for something to make her change her mind. “Mrs. Bennington, if you’d just reconsider—”
“You heard her.” Miss Rosetti moved up beside the widow, color flooding her cheeks. “She said no.”
Interesting. It appeared the younger woman had taken on the role of protector. Not that Mrs. Bennington needed anyone to defend her. Which begged the question: What exactly was the relationship between these two?
“Good day, Mr. Reed.” Mrs. Bennington’s words were polite, but the look she gave him was pure steel.
Darius knew when to cut his losses. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you.” He gave a slight bow and left the room.
As he walked back to his car, his stomach sank. Mr. Walcott wouldn’t be happy at his lack of progress. Apparently Darius’s charms weren’t as effective as his boss had imagined.
Still, there was more than one way to achieve their desired outcome.
Darius’s thoughts turned to the black-tie event. Though he hated to give up an evening with Sofia, he had no choice. He needed to get to the bottom of this strange alliance, and by doing so, perhaps he could figure out a way to break it.
8
Olivia frowned at her reflection in Ruth’s full-length mirror, unable to recognize the glamorous-looking woman in the periwinkle gown who stared back. Except for the same brown eyes, she could see nothing recognizable about herself.
Ruth had insisted on lending Olivia a dress from her own closet, and since the two shared a similar build, the only alteration required was a shortened hem. Ruth’s maid had quickly completed that task yesterday, and now the dress fit Olivia like it had been made for her. Yet that did nothing to alleviate her mounting anxiety.
Her scowl deepened. “Do I really have to go with you? I’m sure you’d do much better on your own.”
Ruth stood beside her, the picture of elegance in a long silver gown and what looked like real diamonds sparkling at her neck. “Nonsense. You look spectacular.”
That was the problem. Olivia didn’t want to look spectacular. She’d always downplayed her looks, never wishing to draw undue attention to herself. Rory had been the only man she’d ever wanted to notice her, and he’d appreciated her natural look. Now, in this dress, with the borrowed pearl earrings and necklace, and her hair swept up in a cascade of curls, she’d never looked so dazzling. However, unlike Cinderella, Olivia wasn’t sure she liked the sensation. It felt far too much like she was pretending to be someone she was not.
And though she might look the part of a society woman, she was in no way equipped to handle conversations with the hard-nosed businessmen Ruth planned to solicit financial support from.
Peering into the mirror, Ruth patted her hair. “One glimpse of you, my dear, and everyone will want to meet the woman who has inspired me to make such a bold move.”
Alarm forced the air from Olivia’s lungs. “You’re not going to tell them—”
“Heavens no. I’d never do that. Your story is yours alone to share, or not, as you see fit.”
“But how will we explain my involvement? People are already suspicious of our friendship.” The skepticism in Mr. Reed’s blue eyes came immediately to mind.
“I have it all worked out. I’ll make an official statement at the beginning of the gala explaining how we met at church and how I offered you a place to stay during a transitional phase in your life. Our friendship grew from there, and we discovered a mutual passion for helping women in trouble, which led to the creation of Bennington Place. That should ward off most questions.”
Olivia shook her head. “They won’t accept that explanation. I know it.”
Ruth took her firmly by the shoulders. “We have nothing to hide, Olivia. You must believe that in order to make everyone else believe it. If you cower in a corner like a frightened mouse, people will assume you’re withholding something.”
“But I am! My pregnancy. My incarceration. Either one could damage your reputation if word ever got out.” Her hands shook as she pulled on elbow-length white gloves. “Maybe I should stay in the background as one of your employees hired to work in the home. No one would question that.”
Ruth frowned. “You are much more than a mere employee.”
Olivia’s gaze dropped to the carpet. “I don’t deserve to be.” She certainly hadn’t provided anything other than some opinions on how the house might run. No money. No property. No expertise—other than knowing how it felt to be alone and afraid . . .
“Olivia, look at me.”
She raised her head, her eyes meeting Ruth’s in the mirror.
“You are a child of God, just like everyone else in this world. We all make mistakes, and we are all worthy of redemption.”
Olivia shook her head. It wasn’t God
