After selling his ancestral estate, Archibald Colston decides to exchange the pastoral serenity of country society for a chance to make a new life for the Colston family in the wealthy elite of New York City. Upon their arrival, Archibald and his si...
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Olivia's stomach was a knot growing tighter and tighter as Harry De Rosier unwittingly worsened her already devastating infatuation. She hadn't found sleep easily. Not when her brain insisted replaying every word of their conversations in mortifying detail. That, and she couldn't stop thinking about the way Daphne Vanderberg had smiled at him.
A jealous anger started to simmer in her stomach, but she pushed it aside. It was her own fault she'd developed feelings for a man she wouldn't let herself show interest in. She certainly couldn't be angry considering that he had never shown her a bit of interest outside of familial concern being that she was the little sister of his dear friend.
To occupy herself, Olivia threw herself into whatever task she could find around the tiny, purple house. A great, bushy evergreen tree was brought into the parlor, and with it, the sharp, fresh scent of pine. Olivia volunteered to decorate it herself as she did every year. Her mother was never interested in the task, and Archibald had participated in the trimming of the tree from time to time, but he always put too many ornaments in the same places. Olivia had scolded him for it, and he eventually relinquished the task to her to avoid the bossing.
She started with tinsel and followed with large red bows. By the time she began with the glass ornaments and baubles, it was well past noon. She called for tea and sandwiches while she unwrapped the delicate trinkets to find a special place for each on the tree. When she ran out of room among the bottom branches, she fetched a small step ladder to reach the upper boughs.
But Olivia saved the best for last: her favorite ornament — a fragile, twisting piece of glass that looked akin to the icicles that hung of the house's eaves. It had been her father's favorite too. It was due to her father's mismanagement of their fortune that they were in this situation, but around Christmas, it was hard to think of him with anything but sadness at his passing. He'd been so full of life before he was taken from them too early. In the last days he had expressed his greatest regret was leaving them with the consequences of his financial ineptitude before he had the chance to correct it. It was this bitter-sweet memory that Olivia held in her heart as she stepped onto the ladder to hang the last ornament.
She reached up for the highest branch when an unexpected came from close behind her. "It's beautiful."
Olivia turned to look over her shoulder and was caught off guard to see Harry De Rosier standing in their parlor, looking up at her with unveiled wonderment. Her cheeks immediately grew warm under his gaze. "Harry!" she said, but before she could scold him for failing to announce himself, she wobbled atop of the ladder step.
Her arms pinwheeled as she tried to regain her balance.
Mr. De Rosier jumped to her aid, catching her at the waist. "Woah! I've got you," he said.
With hands firmly above her hips, he pulled her from the ladder, and in the shock of it all, the ornament tumbled from Olivia's grasp. Time seemed to slow. She was frozen, pulled tight into Mr. De Rosier's chest as she watched in horror as the glass hit the floorboards and shattered into hundreds of sparkling pieces.
