As the house came into view, Olivia slowed her steps, recognizing the car parked at the curb and the man who stepped out of it. A ridiculous thrill shot through her system, a thrill that only intensified when Darius caught sight of her and smiled. For the moment, she did her best to set her problems aside and give him a genuine smile in return.
“Olivia. Good afternoon.” He came toward her.
“Hello, Darius. What brings you by?”
“There’s something I’d like to speak to you about.” He peered into the carriage. “But I also wanted to see how Princess Abigail is doing.” He laughed as the girl, now wide awake, grasped his finger. “Looks like she’s doing well indeed.”
Princess Abigail. Olivia bit her lip. If only she could adopt the child, Abigail could truly become Olivia’s little princess. She blinked hard and swallowed.
“Everything’s all right, isn’t it?” Concern darkened his blue eyes.
“Of course.” Olivia steered the carriage through the gate and up to the front stairs, then lifted the baby out.
Darius watched her with a worried expression. He clearly did not believe her claim.
She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Everyone warned me not to get too attached to Abigail, and they were right. I don’t know how I’m going to let her go.” She turned and started up the steps before her emotions got the better of her.
Darius followed her inside. “It will be hard, I’m sure. There’s something very special about this girl.”
Very special indeed. Olivia walked into the parlor and laid Abigail in the bassinet, then loosened the ribbons under the baby’s chin, the strings now slightly damp with drool. Two precious blue eyes stared back at her. “I foolishly thought I could raise her myself, but the lady from Children’s Aid told me that wasn’t possible.”
Darius moved closer. “It’s brave of you to even consider such an idea. I know from personal experience how difficult being a single parent can be.” His brows drew together as he looked at her. “But you’re still so young, Olivia. Don’t you want to get married and have children of your own someday?”
Her stomach twisted into a hard knot. How had they gotten onto such a personal topic? “I stopped thinking about marriage after my fiancé was killed overseas.”
Darius placed a warm hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d lost someone in this horrible war.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Losing Rory was nothing compared to the chasm of grief in her soul over losing her son. She drew in an unsteady breath. Dwelling on her misfortunes wouldn’t solve anything.
“Still, you’re attractive and kind and obviously good with children,” Darius said in a soothing voice. “You’ll find someone else, I’m sure.” He smiled, likely thinking he was being encouraging and not realizing that every word was a barb to her heart.
She set her jaw and focused on undoing the tiny buttons of Abigail’s cardigan. “I’m not looking for a husband. I’d be content just raising this girl and helping other women. That would be more than enough for me.”
Before he could say anything further, Patricia and Cherise entered the room.
“Olivia, there you are,” Patricia said, her gaze bouncing to Darius. “We wondered where you’d gone.”
“I took the baby for a walk. You should get out too, now that the protestors are gone.”
“Perhaps we’ll go after dinner when it’s cooler. Right now, Patricia is going to help me some more with my knitting.” Cherise pulled the wool from a basket. “Ruth was looking for you earlier. And Margaret is a little hurt that you haven’t been up to see the baby.”
“Oh.” Olivia’s chest tightened with a pang of guilt. She hadn’t been sure she could muster the enthusiasm Margaret deserved over her bundle of joy. Nor was she sure she could hide the jealousy that consumed her. Margaret was getting to keep her son while Olivia had not, and now she would likely lose Abigail too. But that wasn’t Margaret’s fault. “I’ll go up and see her shortly.”
A throat cleared. She turned to see Darius still standing by the bassinet. “About that matter I wanted to discuss . . .”
“Oh, of course.” She’d almost forgotten his reason for coming by. “We can talk in the office.” She turned to the women now engrossed with their knitting. “Will you keep an eye on Abigail for me? I won’t be long.”
“Take as much time as you need.” Cherise winked.
Heat climbed up her neck. “Shall we?” She gestured to the doorway and quickly escaped into the hall.
Darius followed Olivia into the office, where she smoothed her floral dress as she took a seat behind the desk. She seemed flustered, preoccupied, not quite herself. Maybe not the best time to ask a favor.
“Is this something to do with Mr. Walcott?” she asked.
“No, this problem is of a more personal nature.” Darius sat on one of the vacant chairs, suddenly unsure how to begin. “I wanted to talk to you about a friend of mine who could use your help.”
After his meeting with Mr. Cheeseman yesterday, when the man refused to consider anything other than Meredith’s going to Saskatchewan, Darius wasn’t even sure Bennington Place was an option. However, since Meredith obviously found the idea of living on a farm so abhorrent, he wanted to offer her a better solution. Despite how she’d deceived him, he hated seeing her in such distress.
A shuttered look came over Olivia’s face. “I take it this friend is a woman?”
He flinched at the way she stressed the word friend. “Yes. Her name is Meredith.” He hesitated, knowing full disclosure was necessary, but suddenly realizing how bad it would sound. “Up until a week ago, she was my fiancée.”
“Fiancée?” The papers Olivia had been sorting slipped from her fingers. “You never said you were engaged.”
He held back a groan. It must seem like he’d been deliberately hiding it from her. But that hadn’t been his
