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“Take me to the chapel. Wesley is waiting.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Oliver slammed the shovel deeper into the dirt. He wasn’t digging anything in particular, he just could no longer sit inside that blasted house and watch the minutes tick by knowing that within the hour, Elizabeth would become Lady Hastings. It was agony.

He thrust the point of the shovel into the hole he had been digging for the last hour. Maybe this would become a garden when he was finished. Or just a place to bury his heart. Blast. Even he found himself unbearable in this blue deviled state.

“Oliver!”

He froze with his hand on the shovel at the sound of a familiar female voice. He turned around. “Kate?” He squinted in the direction of Elizabeth’s younger sister running toward him from a carriage waiting at the road.

He dropped his shovel and moved to meet her with quick strides. “Kate. What’s wrong?” said Oliver, his panic evident in his tone.

She stopped in front of him and smacked him hard across the arm. “You are what’s wrong!”

“Ow!” he rubbed his hand over his shoulder and scowled at the youngest member of the Ashburn Family. Goodness, she had grown since last he saw her. Although her sudden maturity did not make his heart quake in the way that Elizabeth had all those years ago. “What was that for?”

“For being a dolt! Now, fetch your jacket and let’s go!” Her blue eyes, almost the same shade as Elizabeth’s, flashed angrily at him. Kate was like Mary and Elizabeth mixed up into one dramatic woman. She was a bit frightening, just then.

He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

She stepped up to him as if she were as big as her brother and attempting to tower over him. “We are not fools, Oliver. You love Elizabeth and you are meant for each other. But because of some unknown reason you are being a fool and you are going to lose her!”

His heart began to race, but all he could think to say was, “Do your parents know you are here? Shouldn’t you be at the chapel?”

She rolled her eyes, completely exasperated with him. “They believe I’m ill again and resting in bed. I waited as long as I could for you to make up your mind to come after Elizabeth on your own. But, since that didn’t happen, I knew I needed to light a fire under you.”

“Kate, you shouldn’t have come.”

“No, I shouldn’t have had to come. You love Elizabeth. I know it. Everyone knows it. You should have come after her on your own. Now come on, fetch your jacket and let’s get in the carriage.”

“And then what will we do?” he asked, feeling like his mind was not catching up fast enough.

“And then you will stop the wedding and tell Elizabeth that you’ve been very, very stupid and you want her to marry you, not Lord Hastings!” Stop the wedding? No, no, no. He couldn’t do that. Could he?

He shook his head, beginning to pace. He could feel his resolve dropping. Oliver’s eyes drifted back toward Pembroke. His fear was still present, still lurking and taunting him, but his desire to have everything he always wanted, to love Elizabeth now and for always, was beginning to overcome it.

“My blood runs through your veins. One day you’ll be just like me, and my father before me, and his father before him. We Turners are all the same and there’s no use pretending you're any different.”

He shut his eyes as memories of his father mixed with joyful summers at Dalton Park.

“Oliver!” Kate’s voice cut through the air.

He opened his eyes.

She put her hand on his arm. “If you don’t go now you’re going to lose Elizabeth forever. Is giving in to whatever it is you’re afraid of worth that price?”

“I don’t know what to do, Kate. I love Elizabeth, but I’m terrified I won’t be enough for her.”

Kate’s brows creased. “You already are enough for her, Oliver. Don’t you see that? No one knows her like you do. No one has ever made her smile or laugh as you do. And I’m confident Lord Hastings certainly never will.”

“But what if—”

“It’s time to stop asking what if. Live your life now, don’t wait to see what happens later. You’ll miss it if you do.”

An incredulous short laugh fell out of his mouth and he dashed his hand through his hair. “When did you learn to talk like this?”

She shrugged with a grin. “I read a lot of romance books.”


Tags: Sarah Adams Dalton Family Historical