Samantha James by One Moonlit Night Read Free Book Online Page B

it. Why was he being so stubborn? The William she’d once known had never been so imperious.
    Quietly she spoke. “I do not need your approval where Emily is concerned, William. As her sister, I will do what I feel is right for her.”
    “I cannot agree, Olivia. I fear I must tell you that I believe you are quite wrong. Your sister is an invalid. Why you persist in treating her as if she were not, I do not know.”
    Olivia’s lips tightened ever so slightly. “Say what you must, William, but so must I. Emily is blind, but she is not helpless. There are many things she can do for herself. ’Tis only a matter of learning how.”
    He stiffened visibly. “You are quite impertinent, Olivia.”
    “And you, William, are quite imperious,” she returned.
    “I think not, Olivia. Indeed, I am given to wonder what has come over you. Perhaps ’tis because of your mother’s death. Yes, that must be it. You’ve had no guidance in matters of social decorum, else you would know that you must learn to curb your tongue, for a lady does not argue.”
    “I am in my own home, William,” she stated levelly, “therefore, I see no need to curb my tongue. And if we are arguing, ’tis because you engaged the argument.”
    “And you who continue it!”
    Olivia sighed. Indeed, it was becoming difficultto keep her temper in check. “Perhaps you forget, William, but I was never a mouse.”
    “I’ve forgotten nothing, Olivia. Indeed, I remember a time when you were quite adoring of me.” The sting had left his tone. In its stead was a hint of sadness. She knew it for certain when he gave her a long, slow look. “You’ve changed, Olivia,” he said quietly.
    “And so have you, William.” There was neither spite nor malice in the statement. In truth, she’d only now begun to realize how very true it was.
    For a fleeting instant he looked as if he might disagree. Then suddenly he ran his fingers through his hair, the gesture so boyish it tugged at her heart and reminded her of all that had once been…
    Of all that would never be.
    “Perhaps I have,” he murmured. “I’ve seen atrocities that you cannot imagine—nor would I ever speak of them to a lady.” His lips curved in a faint smile, but it was a smile which held no mirth. “I suppose one might say that war made a man of me.”
    And life had made a woman of her, she thought with a painful twist of her insides.
    William looked at her. “Do you remember your eighth birthday?”
    The merest hint of a smile curled her lips. “Yes. You pressed a bouquet of beautiful violets into my hand. I took them inside to show Mama but she began to sneeze so frightfully I had to leave them outside.”
    His tone turned husky. “You cried because it rained that night and they were ruined.” He paused, then said softly, “You cried the night I left to fight against Napolean.”
    Indeed she had. Faith, but it all seemed so very long ago! So much had happened. Time and distance had separated them…
    “I remember those days well, Olivia. One thing that has never changed are my feelings for you.” His eyes bored into hers. “I regret that we argued. Indeed, that is the last thing I wanted, for I meant to speak with you about something far different.”
    Before she could say a word, he’d grasped both her hands. “Olivia,” he began.
    It was inevitable, perhaps, but all at once she was reminded of another pair of hands, hands that were lean and strong and brown; her own had seemed quite lost within his…
    “…I’ve known for quite some time now what I want. I can only hope that you want it as well. Olivia—” There was the veriest pause. “—’twould please me greatly if you would consent to be my wife.”
    His wife .
    Those words brought her back to the moment at hand in a flash. He was asking her to marry him, she thought numbly. Mutely she gazed at him, at the blond hair brushed neatly back from his forehead, grappling for an answer.
    Oh, but she should have known this was