A Proper Marriage by Dorothy Love Read Free Book Online Page B

seems they want something like the Bill of Rights for women. Lucretia Mott is behind it, and that Stanton woman. ’Tis all foolishness.”
    Olivia found the idea intriguing, thrilling even. “Foolishness, Mr. Mills? To want the same privileges and considerations that men enjoy?”
    Luke frowned and nudged her ankle under the table. “What Olivia meant was—”
    “You needn’t explain me, Luke.” Olivia smiled at him to soften the effect of her words. “I am capable of expressing my own thoughts.”
    “Clearly,” Samuel said. “No offense taken, Mrs. Makenzie. Everyone is entitled to an opinion.”
    “Well, I think it’s a good idea too,” Charlotte said. “And hooray for Mrs. Mott for having the courage to say what many of us feel.”
    Ben stared at her. “Why, Lottie, I never knew that thee supported such an idea.”
    “Thee never asked.”
    Delia shook her head. “I’ve always thought it was such a shame that Mrs. Mott sided with the Hicksites. How anyone can deny the divinity of our Lord . . . well, it just escapes me, that’s all. More pie, Luke?”
    “No, thank you. I’m full as a tick. Everything sure was good, though.”
    “Olivia made the cornbread.” Delia smiled at Olivia across the table. “She will make a fine cook by and by.”
    “Mr. Mills?” Ben stood and took Charlotte’s hand. “Do I have permission to walk with Charlotte down to the creek?”
    Samuel’s laugh was warm. “Stay within sight of the house, Benjamin. It looks like we’re in for more rain. And see that she is home before supper.”
    When they had gone, Olivia helped Delia with the dishes. Samuel filled his pipe with tobacco from a satinwood box. “I spoke with Noah Pierce at meeting today,” he told Luke. “He’s willing to provide a horse and wagon in exchange for twenty percent of your first peach crop.”
    “Twenty percent?” Luke’s voice carried clearly into the kitchen. Olivia picked up a dishtowel and peered out the window. A fine rain had begun to fall. Charlotte and Ben ran for the house, laughing, dodging raindrops. Olivia dried a platter and returned to the table for the serving bowls.
    Samuel lit his pipe and puffed to get it going. “It’s steep, granted,” he said to Luke.
    “I’d planned on hiring a wagon and a decent horse to get me and Olivia out to Laurel Grove. I thought you’d agreed to lend me the money.”
    “A horse and a wagon will be required to get the place started. Noah’s a fair man. And his livestock is the best around here.”
    “But twenty percent—”
    “I gave my word,” Samuel said, “and I will lend the sum we discussed, but I think Noah’s is the better plan.”
    Olivia returned to the kitchen, one hand pressed to her midsection to quell her rising nausea. During Luke’s recovery, she’d been able to postpone thinking ahead to the day when she would leave the warm care of the Quakers and be on her own in a strange place. Now reality was crowding in, and her initial panic came roaring back. She was not cut out for the harsh life on a farm with a husband she barely knew. Surely if she wrote to George and explained everything, he would come for her.
    “Olivia?” Delia finished the dishes, dried her hands, and removed her apron. “What’s the matter? Thee is pale as milk.”
    “I—”
    “Olivia?” Taking up his crutch, Luke hobbled to the door. “Are you all right?”
    “Am I all right?” She looked at him, nearly wild with despair. “No. I am not. And I never expect to be all right again.”
    She pushed past him and ran blindly for the door, faintly aware of the voices behind her.
    “Samuel?” Luke’s voice. “Go after her, please. She’s—”
    “Let her be.” That was Delia. “So much has happened, she’s just overwrought, the poor thing. A little bit of rain won’t do her any harm.”
    “You don’t understand,” Luke said. “Olivia is with child.”

Chapter Seven
    T hrough the dust-streaked window of the cabin, Olivia watched Luke