Chapter 21

Mrs. Keogh, a youngish widow, stuck her head out her door. “Is everything all right? I heard voices coming from Miss St. Claire’s room.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom pushed George into Olivia’s room. This time he did shut the door. “All right, ask George.”

His son looked up at him, then turned his gaze to the young woman who now sat on the edge of the bed and twisted a handkerchief in her hands.

“George, your papa has asked me to marry him. How do you—”

“Hurrah! When? Can I be there?” He bounded across the room and wrapped his arms around her.

“George, you don’t understand.”

He must have heard the distress in her voice, because the joy left his face. “Don’t you want to marry Papa? He loves you, you know.”

“I don’t know. How can he?”

George took her hand and stroked it. “He told me weeks ago. It was taking him forever to ask you. I started to think he never would. Please, Miss Olivia…please marry us.”

She burst into tears.

“Papa?”