Chapter 17
Robertson paced in front of the stables, waiting for Olivia to come. Where was she? The past week had passed in a haze of pleasure—the pleasure of kissing Olivia’s sweet lips and just spending time with her. They’d gone on numerous walks in the garden, as well as a few trips to the village. She wasn’t a frivolous young woman, preferring the bookstore to the modiste’s shop, and he’d made a note of the types of books she selected. No matter how much time they spent in each other’s company, he wanted more—more time, more conversations, more kisses… Most definitely more kisses.
It was so unlike him to crave a woman’s presence. He’d always held himself at a distance, never favoring one lady over another.
What was happening to him?
Olivia was happening to him.
Each morning when he opened his eyes, he sprang out of bed like a schoolboy, knowing the first thing he’d get to do was go riding with the woman he so greatly admired. He’d been pleased to see her grow in confidence each day. She was radiant, and he wanted to devour every inch of her, but would she be willing to take that next step with him? Even after the past eight days in her company, he wasn’t sure. Today, he was going to ask if he could come to her bedchamber this evening after everyone retired. Would she allow it? He sincerely hoped so.
“Good morning, Lord Robertson,” Olivia said.
Robertson spun around. He’d been so busy thinking about the lady that he missed her approach. “Good morning, Lady Armstrong. You look enchanting as ever.”
“Thank you, my lord. I do love that hunter-green jacket you’re wearing. It’s a stunning color.”
Robertson chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell Bryer of your compliment. He’ll be thrilled to know his choices meet with your approval.”
The stablemaster brought out Hades and Clara, and Robertson lifted Olivia into the saddle before mounting the stallion. They followed their usual pattern of racing across the meadow to the stream where the horses could drink.
He lifted her off her horse and let her body slide down his, her soft curves fitting perfectly against his hard planes. She was magnificent, and he was on fire. There was no other way to describe the burning, pulsating beat within him.
“My lady…” he whispered as his mouth devoured hers.
Their kisses were more intense, more passionate than anything they’d indulged in before. He reached up to undo the topmost buttons of her riding habit, never once breaking their connection.
When she didn’t pull away, he released a few more buttons until the soft mounds of her bosom were visible to his greedy eyes. He ran a row of kisses down the column of her neck, stopping in the sweet hollow of her throat to taste her. Her breath hitched.
“Do you like this, sweet lady?”
“Yes. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“I want to kiss every inch of your delectable skin,” he said, reaching to undo more buttons.
She stopped his hand. “Not here, my lord. Anyone may come by and see us.”
As much as he didn’t want to stop, he took a step back. “We’ve not seen anyone at all this past week. Is there something wrong?”
Olivia shook her head while fastening her buttons once more. “Not at all. I adore your kisses.”
“And I adore yours. May I come to your bedchamber tonight so we may continue what we’ve started here?” He waited with bated breath for her answer. What would she say? Did she desire him as much as he desired her?
“I’d like that very much, Everett,” she said with a shy smile.
Robertson nearly jumped for joy. He’d never been happier. Tonight, he would make Olivia his and introduce her to the wonders of lovemaking. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. “Then I wish this day to be over as quickly as possible.”
Olivia laughed. “Everett, put me down. Besides, you mustn’t wish away the hours of the day. Many wondrous things can happen, and if you wish them away, you may miss out on some of the best moments of your life.”
“You’re absolutely correct, my darling. Let us make the most of this day together,” he said, releasing her. “Are you ready to return?”
“I am. I’m quite famished.”
“As am I,” he said, his glance raking over her body. He saw the blush surge above the collar of her riding habit as he led her to the horses and lifted her into the saddle.
They raced the horses back to the barn, and Robertson escorted her to the house. “I’ll see you later.”
Olivia smiled at him before starting up the staircase to her bedchamber. “I look forward to it, my lord.”
Robertson watched her until she was out of sight. Tonight, the lovely lady would be his.
After dinner, Olivia paced thegarden, waiting for Everett to join her. Although it was no secret that they’d been spending a lot of time together, they’d been very careful never to do anything untoward in the company of others. The last thing either of them wanted was to be the subject of gossip. Her relationship with him was a private, wondrous thing, and she wanted to cherish it without any criticism—not that there was anyone here who would criticize her, but she was taking no chances. Bett had encouraged her to explore her feelings for Robertson. But she didn’t need to explore them—she knew how she felt.
Against her better judgment, she’d fallen in love with the Earl of Robertson. How could it have happened so fast? Perhaps Bett was right—sometimes you know right away when you’ve met the one person who makes your heart sing, and boy, did Everett make her heart sing. She could hardly wait to have him visit her tonight, but first, she wanted to feel his luscious lips on her again.
She heard the bushes rustle near her and turned, ready to step into Everett’s arms… except it wasn’t Everett who stood before her.
“Well, Lady Armstrong, I knew you couldn’t resist me forever,” Lord Pressley said with a predatory smile.
“Lord Pressley, what are you doing here?” she asked, taking a step back.
“Meeting you, of course. I saw you slip out of the room after looking at me.”
“My lord, you are mistaken. I came out to the garden to get some fresh air.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling this little rendezvous now?” Quick as a viper, he grabbed her and pulled her close. He was stronger than she’d have thought and held her in a vice grip as his mouth came crashing down on hers.
Bile rose in her throat as the viciousness of the encounter threw her back to the horror of cowering from Armstrong’s violence. She struggled and squirmed, but his hold was too tight. It was all too much, but she wasn’t a frightened eighteen-year-old any longer. Determined to defend herself, she crashed her heel down onto his foot.
“You bitch!” Pressley growled, momentarily releasing her. “You’ll pay for that. We could have had a nice little interlude, but now you need to be punished.”
He tried to crush her back against him, but Olivia found enough strength to pull away before he could get a good grip on her. Unfortunately, he grabbed the back of her dress, and the fine silk ripped.
It was her worst nightmare come back to life. She held the front of her dress against her breasts as she tried to back away, but she wasn’t quick enough. Pressley had her again, and she was at the end of her strength.
Then, in the blink of an eye, she was free of her attacker, and Pressley was on the ground, groaning and holding his jaw.
“You bastard!” Robertson snarled, standing over the young lord. “You were warned to stay away from her.”
“She invited me out here,” Pressley said, wiping the blood from his nose.
Robertson pulled him up from the ground by his cravat, twisting it so tight that the young buck could barely breathe. “You’ll pay for this. I’ll make sure you’re never invited anywhere of note again.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Do you know who my father is?” Pressley croaked out.
“I do indeed. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out you assaulted a lady? Is that the behavior of a viscount’s heir?”
Pressley paled. “Come on, Robertson. I meant no harm. It was all in good fun.”
“Assaulting a young woman is never acceptable, you arse. Get out of my sight!”
Olivia watched Pressley scramble away after Robertson released him. All the strength had drained from her body, and she felt faint. Tears flowed down her cheeks. How could this nightmare keep happening to her?
Robertson turned to her. “My darling Olivia, I’m so very sorry I was delayed. Please forgive me.”
His apology broke the dam inside her, and she began to sob uncontrollably. He reached for her, and she melted into his arms. “I didn’t invite him,” she said between sobs. “I promise I didn’t.”
“I know, my darling. I know. You’re safe now,” he said, rubbing her back… until he wasn’t.
It took her a moment for Olivia to realize something was wrong. When she looked into his eyes, she saw it: disgust.
“What happened to your back?” he demanded.
“It’s nothing. Let it be, please,” she pleaded, taking a step away from him and out of the comfort of his arms.
“Olivia, that isn’t nothing. You have scars all over your back. Tell me, who did this to you?”
“I can’t. Please, forget this ever happened.”
“That I cannot do. Olivia, please trust me. No one should endure such beatings, especially not someone as lovely as you. Was it your father who beat you?”
She didn’t want to tell him. It was her dirty secret that she couldn’t seem to satisfy her husband. “No.”
“Armstrong? I swear if that old bastard weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.”
Olivia wanted to die. This wasn’t how she’d wanted Everett to find out about the scars. She hadn’t told him about the scars when she revealed to him earlier a little of what Armstrong had done to her.
Now everything was ruined.
“My lord, you must excuse me. I need to leave.”
“Let me escort you at least,” he said. “You should not be alone.”
She shook her head. “No, it’ll be easier if I slip in through the servants’ entrance and return to my bedchamber.”
He reached for her, but she pulled away.
“Please, just let me go.”
“Olivia, please don’t go. Don’t you know how I feel about you?”
She shook her head. “How do you feel?”
“I admire you a great deal. More than I’ve ever admired another woman of my acquaintance.”
“You admire me?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She pulled herself together, trying to force back the love he didn’t want. Admiration?! Was that all? It wasn’t nearly enough. “Goodnight, my lord. Please do not follow me.”
With one final look at the man she loved, she fled the garden. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she slipped into the house and up to her bedchamber, their perfect time together ruined before it ever had a chance to blossom.