Olivia walked slowly back to the house, reliving every moment of what had just happened. How had it all gone wrong?

There was that amazing feeling as he did whatever he did with his fingers, and then she’d thought that she should just say what she was thinking. Only she probably shouldn’t have.

She winced as she realized how she must have sounded—presuming he would know more about some people than she because of his birth. And yes, that was true, but that was because she had been so sheltered until recently. Not because his birth was so much lower than hers.

Although it was, and to ignore that would be disingenuous.

Had she told him she loved him?

She reviewed what she’d said, and the sick horror started to grow as she considered her words. No wonder he was angry. She had been, even if inadvertently, proud and condescending. She hadn’t told him she loved him.

Instead, she’d focused on what they could accomplish together—the things she wanted to accomplish—and that his father would be pleased.

Mentioning, as though it was secondary, the incendiary attraction between them.

Damn it.

She felt tears start to prickle her eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Lady Olivia Howlett did not cry.

Except she was crying.

Damn it again.

She spied a small terrace and a door that led back into the house. Hopefully it would be unlocked, and she could slip inside and gather herself together so that nobody would know anything was amiss.

Keeping her head down, she walked briskly up the three stairs to the stone terrace, reaching her hand forward for the doorknob.

Please—“Ah,” she said with satisfaction as the door swung open, and she stepped inside.

Her eyes blinked against the sudden brightness of candles, and she wavered, trying to focus on the room.

“Olivia?”

It was Ida, sitting on the floor with an enormous book spread out on her lap.

“Hello,” Olivia replied, her voice wavering. “I didn’t mean—” And she trailed off, not sure what she didn’t mean. Or did mean anymore.

“You’re not all right.” It wasn’t a question. The tears threatened to come again, and she looked up at the ceiling, trying to calm herself. She heard the rustle of material as Ida got up to stand in front of her.

“Olivia.” Ida had hold of her chin and was pulling her face down.

Her sister was very close to her. Physically, not figuratively. Ida was so distant at times, it almost seemed as though she wanted to keep herself apart from her ridiculous family.

Olivia couldn’t blame her most of the time. Their family was ridiculous—one sister eloping with the dancing master, the other sister refusing to marry Bennett. Her falling in love with a man who was only barely admitted to Society because of his vast amounts of money. Not that Ida knew about the falling in love part, but she had to suspect it, at least.

Ida was nothing if not intelligent and observant.

“What happened?”

Ida drew her over to sit down on the sofa placed in front of the fire—so similar to the first time she’d met Edward that she nearly sobbed aloud—and made her sit, taking Olivia’s hands in hers.

“I know I’m not Pearl, but you need help now, and Pearl stayed behind to make sure you made it home.” Ida straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Which you did, but Pearl hasn’t come back yet. No idea where she got up to in this rain. So you’re going to have to tell me what is wrong.”

It felt so odd to be confiding in Ida, and yet Olivia found herself telling her as much as she’d ever told Pearl—about trying to help Edward gain respectability, finding him a bride, realizing he intrigued her. Not sharing precisely what had happened in the shed, but Ida’s penetrating gaze let Olivia know her sister had figured it out.

At the end, Ida looked puzzled. “It sounds as though you told him what should be done, but not how you feel. Shouldn’t you have done that?”

The clear directness of Ida’s words made Olivia want to laugh and cry at the same time. It was so simple, wasn’t it? She should just tell him, and then see what he said.

“Thank you,” she said as the door opened to admit Pearl.

“There you are!” Pearl exclaimed. “I waited, just in case you needed to talk.” She frowned, stepping forward to lower her head to stare at Olivia. “You do need to talk.”

“She does need to talk, but not to either one of us,” Ida said in a brisk tone. “She needs to talk to Mr. Wolcott.” Ida moved to the side of the sofa so that Pearl could sit beside Olivia.

“Tell me,” Pearl said, her hair damp.

Olivia glanced over her twin’s head to look at Ida. “Well, as I was saying, I asked him to marry me and he said no.”

“But he loves you, I know he does. Tell me exactly what happened,” Pearl commanded.

Olivia took a deep breath. Pearl was going to—correctly—assess that Olivia had said all the wrong things at the wrong time. As Ida had, only Pearl was less blunt than their sister.

“You can’t say something to him now, at least not before you both have calmed down,” Pearl said after Olivia repeated the story, condescending words and all.

Olivia wrinkled her brow in thought. “But what if he thinks my not speaking to him means I don’t care? That I actually meant what I said?”

Pearl shrugged. “It’s better that he think that for a time than that the two of you never have a productive conversation and you end up alone and miserable.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “Well, since you put it that way.”

“And here I thought I was the blunt one,” Ida said, a note of pride in her voice. “I agree with what Pearl says, you have to wait until you have figured out what you want to say. Perhaps try practicing it a few times so you don’t end up making it worse.”

“Well, that’s hardly comforting,” Olivia replied, thinking about how horribly the village encounter went.

Although it did show her that she was not infallible. That sometimes it would be best to ask rather than to assume.

She wished she had learned that lesson when talking to Edward, actually. If she had asked him how he felt about her, and asked him to consider marriage rather than just assuming, she wouldn’t be in this position at the moment.

She’d be engaged or she’d know the truth. Or both.

She took a deep breath. “Thank you both. I love you both so much, and I am so glad you are my sisters.”

She drew Pearl into a hug and stretched her hand out to grasp Ida on the arm, squeezing her gently.

Ida looked startled, then her face eased into a smile.

It would be fine. She would be fine, even if it ended up he wasn’t in love with her. She had her sisters’ love, and she had her newfound awareness that she wasn’t always right, and she could work on improving herself and the world with that knowledge in her pocket.