word." But now that it was over, what he had just done amused him. "One day you'll laugh about this, I promise, when you're both grandmothers, and remember how she almost got arrested."
Olivia smiled at what he was saying, and Victoria muttered a curt thank-you at him, and then swept upstairs to change for dinner.
They were only having dinner with Mrs. Peabody that night, but Olivia asked Charles if he would like to join them. It seemed the least she could do after the last two hours he'd spent, rescuing Victoria, in spite of herself, from the Fifth Precinct.
"I can't, but thank you very much." He looked embarrassed at the invitation. "I try to dine with my son every night, or as much as possible at least."
"How old is he? " Olivia asked with interest.
"He's nine." That made him eight when his mother died .. .
when he had seen her for the last time, before he left her on the Titanic.
The thought of it almost made her shudder.
"I hope we meet him sometime, " she said genuinely, and Charles looked hesitant and thankful.
"He's a good boy." And then, he surprised her with his honesty.
But there was something about Olivia that made her easy to talk to, unlike her sister, who made him want to spank her. "We've both had a hard time without his mother, " he said quietly.
"I can imagine." And then, "I never knew mine, " she said softly.
"But Victoria and I had each other." Her eyes seemed huge as they looked into his, and something about her made his heart ache.
"It must be extraordinary, " he said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine having anyone that you're that close to. Except maybe a husband or a wife, but even then. You two almost seem like two halves of the same person."
"Sometimes I think we are, " and then she looked toward the second floor, glowering expressively, "and at other times, I think we're strangers. We're very different in some ways, and completely alike in others." In looks certainly, despite their very different personalities, he still could not actually see a difference between them.
"Does it bother you that people confuse you all the time? I suppose that could be very annoying." He was fascinated by them, and he liked being able to ask Olivia these questions.
"You get used to it. We used to think it was funny. Now, it's just the way things are." It was so easy talking to him, and he seemed comfortable speaking to Olivia as well. She was the sort of woman he could be friends with. And yet it was Victoria he was mesmerized by, and tongue-tied with. He couldn't tell them apart, and yet some deep, inner part of him sensed when he was in Victoria's presence, and something about her turned him topsy-turvy. But Olivia with her gentle ways made him feel comfortable, and at ease, like a dear friend or an affectionate younger sister.
He left a few minutes after that, and she closed the door quietly behind him, and walked slowly upstairs to talk to her sister.
Victoria was sitting in her room, staring unhappily out the window, thinking of the afternoon, and how foolish she had felt when the sergeant had separated her from the others.
"How am I going to show my face to them again? " she asked unhappily as Olivia watched her.
"You shouldn't have been with them in the first place." Olivia sighed, and sat down on the bed, facing her sister. "You can't keep doing things like this, Victoria. You can't go off chasing some wild idea, without thinking of the consequences. People can get hurt by it, you can get hurt by it. I don't want that to happen." Victoria looked slowly at her, and the light that Charles saw in her eyes burned very brightly. "What if more people are helped than hurt?
What if one had to die for an idea, a cause, in order to make the right things happen? You know, I know it must sound crazy to you, but sometimes I think I'd be willing to do that." The worst of it was that Olivia knew in her heart of hearts that Victoria was being truthful.
She had that kind of fire in her, that bright, burning
Olivia smiled at what he was saying, and Victoria muttered a curt thank-you at him, and then swept upstairs to change for dinner.
They were only having dinner with Mrs. Peabody that night, but Olivia asked Charles if he would like to join them. It seemed the least she could do after the last two hours he'd spent, rescuing Victoria, in spite of herself, from the Fifth Precinct.
"I can't, but thank you very much." He looked embarrassed at the invitation. "I try to dine with my son every night, or as much as possible at least."
"How old is he? " Olivia asked with interest.
"He's nine." That made him eight when his mother died .. .
when he had seen her for the last time, before he left her on the Titanic.
The thought of it almost made her shudder.
"I hope we meet him sometime, " she said genuinely, and Charles looked hesitant and thankful.
"He's a good boy." And then, he surprised her with his honesty.
But there was something about Olivia that made her easy to talk to, unlike her sister, who made him want to spank her. "We've both had a hard time without his mother, " he said quietly.
"I can imagine." And then, "I never knew mine, " she said softly.
"But Victoria and I had each other." Her eyes seemed huge as they looked into his, and something about her made his heart ache.
"It must be extraordinary, " he said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine having anyone that you're that close to. Except maybe a husband or a wife, but even then. You two almost seem like two halves of the same person."
"Sometimes I think we are, " and then she looked toward the second floor, glowering expressively, "and at other times, I think we're strangers. We're very different in some ways, and completely alike in others." In looks certainly, despite their very different personalities, he still could not actually see a difference between them.
"Does it bother you that people confuse you all the time? I suppose that could be very annoying." He was fascinated by them, and he liked being able to ask Olivia these questions.
"You get used to it. We used to think it was funny. Now, it's just the way things are." It was so easy talking to him, and he seemed comfortable speaking to Olivia as well. She was the sort of woman he could be friends with. And yet it was Victoria he was mesmerized by, and tongue-tied with. He couldn't tell them apart, and yet some deep, inner part of him sensed when he was in Victoria's presence, and something about her turned him topsy-turvy. But Olivia with her gentle ways made him feel comfortable, and at ease, like a dear friend or an affectionate younger sister.
He left a few minutes after that, and she closed the door quietly behind him, and walked slowly upstairs to talk to her sister.
Victoria was sitting in her room, staring unhappily out the window, thinking of the afternoon, and how foolish she had felt when the sergeant had separated her from the others.
"How am I going to show my face to them again? " she asked unhappily as Olivia watched her.
"You shouldn't have been with them in the first place." Olivia sighed, and sat down on the bed, facing her sister. "You can't keep doing things like this, Victoria. You can't go off chasing some wild idea, without thinking of the consequences. People can get hurt by it, you can get hurt by it. I don't want that to happen." Victoria looked slowly at her, and the light that Charles saw in her eyes burned very brightly. "What if more people are helped than hurt?
What if one had to die for an idea, a cause, in order to make the right things happen? You know, I know it must sound crazy to you, but sometimes I think I'd be willing to do that." The worst of it was that Olivia knew in her heart of hearts that Victoria was being truthful.
She had that kind of fire in her, that bright, burning
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