But did she really want hope? No. She was quite finished hoping. What she wanted was to move on and stop torturing her heart like she had every summer Oliver spent with her family. He had started out as a brother figure—a protector. But as the years had progressed, he had gone from someone who simply watched over Elizabeth to a genuine friend. A close friend. Someone who shared everything with her. Someone who laughed with her. Someone who valued her opinion. Maybe someone who—no. She couldn’t let herself finish that thought. All of those things were true, but they all simply pointed to their close friendship. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than for Oliver to return her romantic sentiments, but she knew that was a wasted dream.
Mary’s voice broke into Elizabeth’s thoughts. “I’m so sorry I won’t be able to be with you this Season after all. I feel as if I have let you down.” Mary sounded defeated. It made Elizabeth feel a tiny bit guilty that she was glad to have Rose as her chaperone instead of her over protective sister. Rose never smothered or inserted herself into Elizabeth’s problems as Mary did. In fact, Rose only ever listened and gave opinions when asked. It was a novel idea, really.
Elizabeth forced herself to wear a somber expression. “I’ll miss you dearly, Mary. But I wouldn’t risk anything happening to you or the baby for the world. We need to keep you resting so you are ready for all the sleepless nights our newest little lord or lady will bestow on you.” Elizabeth looked down and rested her hand on Mary’s wonderfully round stomach. Usually, Mary would smile and place her hand over Elizabeth’s and say something like, “I cannot wait to hold this little darling.” But she didn’t do that this time.
Mary cleared her throat and changed the subject again. “I think I will have Rose over for tea when she and Carver arrive.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth asked, inwardly trying to make sense of Mary’s avoidance of any topics pertaining to the baby. Perhaps it was simply coincidence? Perhaps Mary hadn't heard her?
Mary shifted on the bed, forcing Elizabeth’s hand to fall away from her middle. “To fill her in on all of her duties as your chaperone. She is new to this life, you know. I’m sure the idea of launching you into society, all while trying to establish herself as the new wife to the Earl of Kensworth feels daunting.” Elizabeth wondered if she and Mary were thinking of the same woman. She never knew Rose to be daunted by anything.
“I’m sure Rose will manage well enough. This life is not exactly foreign to her, given all of the identities she’s assumed. I dare say she will manage better than I.”
“True.” Mary agreed a little too quickly for Elizabeth’s comfort. Did she not think Elizabeth was up to the task of becoming a Society lady? “Still, I will rest easier knowing that she is thoroughly apprised of her responsibilities. Oh, and Oliver. I must remember to have Robert speak to him.”
Elizabeth sat up a little. “Why must Robert speak to Oliver?”
Mary sat up as well. “About the Season. To make sure he keeps you in his sights.”
“In his sights?” Why did Elizabeth not like the sound of that?
“Yes—I know Carver will be a diligent guardian, but I would feel more comfortable knowing Oliver acts in a similar manner.”
Elizabeth let out an incredulous laugh. “As my…guardian.” Was Mary blind? Could she not see how much Elizabeth adored Oliver, and how offensive that idea would be to her? Elizabeth was torn. In many ways, she had no desire for her sister to learn of her sentiments toward Oliver. Mary would surely meddle and tell Oliver regardless of Elizabeth’s own say in the matter. But another part of her wished that Mary would see her as a grown woman, capable of loving—as well as attracting—a man such as Oliver Turner. Obviously not Oliver Turner himself, since he was not in fact attracted to her, but one like him, perhaps. Surely Mary didn’t think it completely beyond the realm of possibility?
“Of course. He’s always kept a hawk-like eye on you. And since you two are close friends, I think he will be a wonderful blockade for unwanted suitors.”
Elizabeth couldn’t stop an incredulous laugh from bursting forth. Not only was Mary going to ask Oliver to act as a guardian to her during the Season, but she was going to ask him to shoo away other suitors?
“Mary, I beg you not to ask that of Oliver. I’m sure his time this Season will be monopolized enough without the added burden of holding on to my leading strings.”
Mary waved her off as always, landing on a decision without truly hearing Elizabeth’s objections. “Oliver is always happy to help where you are concerned.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. She could assert herself further, but what was the point? At the end of the day, Mary would still do as she thought best. They needed to change the subject, and she decided now was the opportune moment to see if Mary’s avoidance of a certain topic was coincidence or not. “I never did hear if you and Robert have settled on a name for the child.”
Mary tensed and looked around the bed. “Have you seen the plate of the cream dress with burgundy embroidery? I wanted to have a second look at it but I seem to have misplaced it.” Not a coincidence, then.
Elizabeth knew she shouldn’t press it, but her desire to be more than simply Mary’s little sister held sway. She wanted Mary to see that she was capable of helping to bear some of her burdens. “Are you thinking of passing Robert’s name down if it’s a boy and yours if it’s a girl?”
Mary was almost wildly shifting through the papers scattered around her. “Perhaps. Oh—it must be around here somewhere. Have you seen it?”
“Do you have a hunch as to what the sex will be?”
“Just wait until you see the embroidery. I’ve never seen more elaborate floral stitches.” This was getting ridiculous.
“Mary, stop searching for a moment.” Mary paused but would not meet Elizabeth’s eyes. “Is something the matter? You seem a bit out of sorts today. Is it…because of the baby? Are you worried—?”
Mary’s eyes shot anger at Elizabeth. “Leave it alone,” she said, speaking with such force that Elizabeth took a retreating step back.
An unwanted stinging touched the back of Elizabeth’s eyes and she blinked against the sensation. “I was only trying to—”
“I know what you were trying to do. And I wish for you to stop. My affairs do not concern you.”
Elizabeth gripped her skirts and willed herself not to cry. Tears would only make her appear even more childish in Mary’s eyes.
After a moment, Mary’s posture relaxed and she let out a breath. “What I mean to say is, you have enough to think about with your come out and all that is expected of you as a debutante. No need to overload your mind with things that do not pertain to you.” Yes, Mary had made that sentiment perfectly clear. Elizabeth was in no way needed by her sister and should focus all of her efforts on not making a muddle of her Season.
Wonderful. Perfect. Then that was precisely what she would do.