Read Online True Story (The Deverells, Book One) by Jayne Fresina - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jayne Fresina
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a ball and lost half the contents of his stomach on her
gown. Her sensible, helpful composure in these circumstances won
fun-loving Freddy's blurry-eyed gratitude, and she impulsively
seized the chance of making herself indispensable to someone
new.
Her father was markedly relieved he'd
found someone to take her off his hands, and although he did not
much care for the Captain, when Olivia convinced him she'd be happy
he did not stand in her way.
"Are you in the position to provide
for a wife, yet?" her father had inquired of Freddy— a fellow
notorious for more open-hearted generosity than acumen. "How will
you support my daughter?"
"With a little light pressure under
the elbow while crossing the street, I suppose," replied Freddy,
punctuating his answer with a genial gust of laughter.
For the few days of their marriage,
Freddy was very enjoyable company, wonderfully uplifting for a
girl's spirits. Unfortunately, Freddy was also uplifting to many
other young ladies’ spirits too. That was the trouble with
attractive, merry gentlemen like Captain Ollerenshaw. They never
could stop being so generous with their merriment.
When Freddy was killed, while
foolishly racing an unstable phaeton for a wager of fifty pounds,
Christopher immediately sprung up at her side to say, "Perhaps you
have got that out of your veins now, Livy, and you see the error of
an impulsive choice."
But she missed Freddy, despite his
faults and the little time they'd had together. At night it was
very hard to go to one's bed alone after enjoying the pleasures to
which he'd introduced her. Admitting this to her stepbrother, of
course, was out of the question.
Next came her engagement to Arthur
Pemberton, an earnest young man whose palms were always damp with
sweat and who never seemed capable of looking her in the eye. It
was a shock to Olivia that he ever got around to proposing, but
somehow he did. She thought this marriage would at least last
longer than a few days and that her husband's anxious, timid eye
would not feel compelled to follow every pretty girl that
passed.
Sadly, Arthur's nervous disposition
prevented him from making it to the altar. He left his aging
bachelor uncle, Sir Allardyce Pemberton, to make his apologies on
the very day of the intended nuptials, and before the flowers could
droop, Olivia was married to Allardyce instead. Looking back on her
mood that day she realized her temper and pride had got the better
of her. She could not bear to go home defeated again, to hear once
more Christopher's snide remarks. Rather than let herself be
gossiped about as a woman humiliated and jilted at the altar, and
feeling rather mutinous that day, she'd rashly accepted another
offer. After all, the last thing she wanted was anybody's
pity.
Christopher had sneered, "If you're
going to make a habit of this, you should at least marry for money.
Old Allardyce hasn't a bean, you know."
"There is more to life than money,"
she'd replied, at which her stepbrother shook his head, lips grimly
pursed.
Within six months she was widowed
again, when Allardyce choked on a fishbone in his pie at the local
tavern.
Now a woman considered unlucky and, as
Christopher said, "used goods", she might have sunk under a lace
cap and retired into a corner. Fortunately, however, William
Monday, the reserved, contemplative parson who often came to Sunday
dinner at her father's house, saved Olivia from this dolorous end
by quietly stepping in and proposing a marriage
arrangement.
"She's doing it again," Christopher
complained loudly. "Someone ought to stop her."
But this union was different. There
was no physical attraction, as there had been with Freddy, and
there was no pride to be saved, as in the case of her marriage to
Allardyce. William Monday was a steady man, extremely frugal and
patient, keen to help her find a purpose in life. His good example
would help cleanse Olivia of those wicked impulses that did her
absolutely no good in the past.
If she served
gown. Her sensible, helpful composure in these circumstances won
fun-loving Freddy's blurry-eyed gratitude, and she impulsively
seized the chance of making herself indispensable to someone
new.
Her father was markedly relieved he'd
found someone to take her off his hands, and although he did not
much care for the Captain, when Olivia convinced him she'd be happy
he did not stand in her way.
"Are you in the position to provide
for a wife, yet?" her father had inquired of Freddy— a fellow
notorious for more open-hearted generosity than acumen. "How will
you support my daughter?"
"With a little light pressure under
the elbow while crossing the street, I suppose," replied Freddy,
punctuating his answer with a genial gust of laughter.
For the few days of their marriage,
Freddy was very enjoyable company, wonderfully uplifting for a
girl's spirits. Unfortunately, Freddy was also uplifting to many
other young ladies’ spirits too. That was the trouble with
attractive, merry gentlemen like Captain Ollerenshaw. They never
could stop being so generous with their merriment.
When Freddy was killed, while
foolishly racing an unstable phaeton for a wager of fifty pounds,
Christopher immediately sprung up at her side to say, "Perhaps you
have got that out of your veins now, Livy, and you see the error of
an impulsive choice."
But she missed Freddy, despite his
faults and the little time they'd had together. At night it was
very hard to go to one's bed alone after enjoying the pleasures to
which he'd introduced her. Admitting this to her stepbrother, of
course, was out of the question.
Next came her engagement to Arthur
Pemberton, an earnest young man whose palms were always damp with
sweat and who never seemed capable of looking her in the eye. It
was a shock to Olivia that he ever got around to proposing, but
somehow he did. She thought this marriage would at least last
longer than a few days and that her husband's anxious, timid eye
would not feel compelled to follow every pretty girl that
passed.
Sadly, Arthur's nervous disposition
prevented him from making it to the altar. He left his aging
bachelor uncle, Sir Allardyce Pemberton, to make his apologies on
the very day of the intended nuptials, and before the flowers could
droop, Olivia was married to Allardyce instead. Looking back on her
mood that day she realized her temper and pride had got the better
of her. She could not bear to go home defeated again, to hear once
more Christopher's snide remarks. Rather than let herself be
gossiped about as a woman humiliated and jilted at the altar, and
feeling rather mutinous that day, she'd rashly accepted another
offer. After all, the last thing she wanted was anybody's
pity.
Christopher had sneered, "If you're
going to make a habit of this, you should at least marry for money.
Old Allardyce hasn't a bean, you know."
"There is more to life than money,"
she'd replied, at which her stepbrother shook his head, lips grimly
pursed.
Within six months she was widowed
again, when Allardyce choked on a fishbone in his pie at the local
tavern.
Now a woman considered unlucky and, as
Christopher said, "used goods", she might have sunk under a lace
cap and retired into a corner. Fortunately, however, William
Monday, the reserved, contemplative parson who often came to Sunday
dinner at her father's house, saved Olivia from this dolorous end
by quietly stepping in and proposing a marriage
arrangement.
"She's doing it again," Christopher
complained loudly. "Someone ought to stop her."
But this union was different. There
was no physical attraction, as there had been with Freddy, and
there was no pride to be saved, as in the case of her marriage to
Allardyce. William Monday was a steady man, extremely frugal and
patient, keen to help her find a purpose in life. His good example
would help cleanse Olivia of those wicked impulses that did her
absolutely no good in the past.
If she served
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