Keep My Heart- Prologue

Keep My Heart- 4

Olivia felt her heart skip a beat, and she allowed herself to breathe.

"It's beautiful," she said, and her voice was soft like the first cloud of dawn. It was so perfectly untouched, so white and sweet. She loved it immediately, and looked at him, with wonder in her eyes. Had he really thought of her, when he was away? Had he really bought this for her, and no other woman? Her heart fluttered, and she stole a look into his eyes. He smiled, easily but awkwardly--Adam was not one of those men of which a smile rode easily upon. He was very serious, and intellectual. Had he been a woman, he might have been called a 'bluestocking.'

"It's from Mexico," he told her, and removed it from it's box. He glanced up, as if asking her permission, and took her small, alabaster hand into his. She felt his rough skin against hers, and wondered if he acquired such skin from the winding days at sea.

For a minute, she stared at it, on her finger. Sweet, silver, and simple. Olivia swallowed, hoping he could not see the jump in her pulse. Such things as this never happened to her--save those rare occasions when he kissed her. He hardly did, if they hadn't retired to their joint bedchamber.

Oh, she was foolish. She knew she could not, and would not ever love another. The pain she had known had been so very deep, and consuming. The fact that she could make herself live everyday was quite marvelous enough. Even so, he was her husband and she felt something for him.

"When I purchased it, my thoughts were of how nice it would look on your hand. Quite handsome, is it not?"

"Erm." She looked at the ring again.

And she was reminded of the ring Rashleigh had bought her. Weeks before he sent her here to Boston. It had been grand, an emerald, with several diamonds surrounding it. His purchases had always been ostenacious and gaudy, showy. She had never known of his financial ruin.

Immediately, Adam's face changed to concern. "Do you not like it?"

Snapping her thoughts back, she shook her head. "It's darling, really, Adam. Thank you, for buying it for me." Her stomach was sick, and she wanted to take the ring off, and cast it into the deepest part of the ocean. But why should she? It truly was a handsome ring, and she might have liked it, had it not reminded her.

Badly, she wished that she might be able to love.

"Then why do you have such a grim expression, hm?"

Her conscience gnawed sharply at her, and she swallowed, plastering a smile on her face. "I've quite a dreadful headache."

His eyes flickered, and she wondered if perhaps he did not believe her, but she didn't bother as to whether or not he did. The only thing she wanted at the moment was to go and lie down.

"It's probably because you're tired. As I said, go and lie down, and I'll handle Hawke's Vale today."

Well, now he was talking to her like she was a child. Yes, just go and lie down, Olivia. I'll tuck you in, Olivia. I'll wipe your nose for you.

Rest wasn't at all what she wanted. Then again, did she know what she wanted? Had she ever known?

Adam, upon noticing her grim expression, cast about for something. He thought that perhaps she was upset with him. Again, he reflected on the long months when he was away. She had no friends, save Constance, who came to see her. But Constance had always been there. Adam wasn't completely certain of the depth of the friendship, although he did know that they had been friends, and it had been Constance who convinced Olivia to marry him.

"If you feel well enough this evening, Olivia, how about we go and see a play? I'm sure that there is something of interest tonight," he offered, voice soft and low, his forehead puckered with thought.

"It might be nice," she replied, and fisted her hand, pressing her thumb to the warmed silver around her finger.

"Any thing you want. A comedy, a tragedy."

She shrugged, and noticed the way that his inky black hair rested on his forehead. It was Indian straight, and unruly, but that was Adam. Walking the straight and narrow, with a bit of unruly initiative.

"I believe that I will go and lie down," she said, after a pregnant moment of silence.

"I'll see you later this afternoon," he said. She thought she heard a bit of a wishful tone in his voice, but Olivia excused it as her own imagination.

Strange though it was, as she quit the room, she had an odd sense of hope that he would catch her hand, and pull her back. But he didn't, and she immediately felt stupid for thinking that maybe he might. Sighing, she thought of how often she had started doing this to herself. As if they were in love. Olivia knew better, though, and she would keep her distance. Though she took to her bed, Olivia didn't sleep. Instead, she laid on her side, facing the wall, wondering what was the matter with her. She had a nice home, a nice husband who brought her nice things, and everything she could want.

But Rashleigh and Georgiana were coming. They were coming and they would ruin everything. Her entire world would fall to the ground. If Shakespeare was correct, and all the world was a stage. If all the men and women were merely players, then the English Hawkes were definitely among the villians.

Olivia laid on her bed, face to the wall. She knew she was probably crinkling her dress, but she didn't think too much about it. She wondered how long that she would be able to keep up her facade, to keep her face out of the light.

"Just keep your distance," she whispered to herself. True, that was the easiest way to keep them at bay--by keeping them at bay.

A ragged breath broke through her. Would life ever be simple for her? She doubted it. She doubted that anything would ever be good or perfect.

Her thoughts went to Adam, suddenly. His face lingered in her mind, with his uncombed black hair and thick brows. She thought of his pale green eyes, and his strong build. He really and truly wasn't a handsome man. At least not as handsome as his brother. Once again, Olivia reminded herself though, that Adam had a good heart. And perhaps if she wasn't such a dunce, then she might be in love with him. But no. No, she didn't want to be in love again. To love was to be in bondage.

She didn't like bondage. She hated feeling like someone else held her heart as captive.

Unless, whoever kept her heart, kept it as they kept their own.