Frowning to herself, she looked forward so that he would not see the pain in her eyes. It wasn’t like she particularly cared. But it would have been nice if someone worried about her and not for what her brother thought.
“I imagine he will be upset,” she said without turning around.
“Not at you Princess …”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “Never call me that. Do you understand.”
He balked then looked back up the road where the coach had disappeared, then slowly nodded. “Of course, Olivia.”
She relaxed just a little. It wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself. In fact, she must remember that the man had ridden all night to catch up to them. While she had been sleeping, he had been galloping through the dark. Risking his very neck to rescue her.
No, she must not forget that.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now we get you home. We’ll go back to the last Inn, I will see if I can rent a coach.”
“Another coach?” she asked with a hint of petulance. “I’ve been cooped up. Can’t we get a barouche or even a wagon.”
He laughed and slowly shook his head. “We’ll get what we can get. You’re not exactly dressed for riding, so that is out.”
She nodded, her dress would never allow her to ride side saddle, and riding astride was unacceptable. Sighing to herself, she relaxed in his arms and allowed her head to rest on his chest.
“Even though it pains me to say it, I must,” she said as she studied her hands. “Thank you, Bradford.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “My pleasure, Olivia. Although, I must request the next time you are kidnapped, I do hope you can convince them to remain in London. I never enjoy long rides.”
Olivia bit back a sharp reply and let him have the last word. It was the least she could do.
The two of them rode in silence. Walking the horse until they came within sight of the Inn. Bradford pulled to a stop a dozen yards away.
“Why are you stopping?” Olivia asked as a frustration began to build inside of her. All she wanted was to get home. Yet, at the same time, that meant obtaining transportation which would mean she could no longer rest in Bradford’s embrace.
The thought of losing those strong arms around her sent a sense of fear coursing through her. A surprisingly strong emotion that was both unexpected and frightening at the same time. Why?
“I’m making sure that we are alone.”
“Again why?”
He slowly shook his head. He was always perturbed by her constant questions. That was one of the many reasons she asked them. Perturbing Lord Bradford was one of her best enjoyments in life.
“Because,” he said with a heavy sigh, “if we are seen, people will ask questions. Make assumptions. A young couple. Alone, unmarried, at a distant Inn. They will assume the worst and you will be ruined.”
“Do not worry about my reputation,” she said. “I would not have a man who would believe such lies.”
He scoffed and slowly shook his head. “It’s not just you. I have a reputation to worry about also.”
Olivia frowned. The man was one of the most notorious rakes in town. Why would he worry about such things? “They would think I was just another of your many mistresses. I wouldn’t think anyone I know will be up and about at this hour.”
He frowned at her. “You never know who might be here. You need to think of your family. Lady Alice and the baby would be shunned. Nathanial would never obtain a title…”
“He doesn’t want one,” Olivia replied.
“He does, for Lady Alice more than anything,” Bradford said.
Olivia’s stomach dropped, was it true. Did Lord Bradford know something about her brother she didn’t? What else did she not know? Why could men share information between themselves yet refuse to disclose it in front of women, even their own sisters?
She would never understand them.
Bradford slowly walked the horse into the Inn’s yard.
A young stable boy of about fourteen raced out of the barn to take the horse.
“Was I right, M’lord?” the boy asked with a large smile. “Was he fast?”
“Like the wind,” Bradford said as he swung down then lifted Olivia down from the horse. His strong hands around her waist sent a tingle through her entire body.
“We need a coach, and a driver,” Bradford told the boy with a weary sigh. “To take us to London.”
He’s tired, Olivia thought. Perfectly understandable.
The boy nodded as he glanced at Olivia from under his brow. What was he thinking? she wondered. Was he thinking that she was the Lord’s fancy woman from London?
“Of course, M’lord, we have one.” The boy said as he led the horse into the barn. “I will drive. Old Jack is not here.” To Olivia’s ears, the boy sounded as if he would love nothing more than driving a British Lord to London.
Bradford nodded as he twisted, scanned the yard and the sleepy Inn. “We will wait in the barn. No need to bother the keeper.”
The boy frowned for a second at the unusual statement. Olivia could see his imagination racing trying to understand why the Lord didn’t avail himself of the Inn.
Olivia allowed herself to be led into the barn. The strong smell of horses and fresh straw washed over her. Bradford’s concern for her reputation was touching but he really need not worry. There was no chance of anyone she knew finding her there.
She silently studied the man while he turned away from her and looked out over the yard. His eyes ever vigilant for any threat. His fine coat was ripped at the shoulder. Had he done that when rescuing her or during his midnight ride? An overhanging branch perhaps?
Her insides relaxed. He had found her. How was it possible?
As she silently relived her experience she examined every aspect. What could she have done differently? Why had she been targeted? Had it been solely for money? Nathanial’s wealth a treasure too rich to be ignored.
No answer came. And they never will, she realized with disappointment. It was one of those things she would never learn.
As she continued to watch him she noticed him favoring his left arm.
“Bradford, are you injured?” she asked with disbelief.
He turned and smiled weakly.
“You idiot,” she cursed as she hurried to him. “Why didn’t you say something?” The rip at the shoulder of his coat had turned a dark crimson. How had she missed it? Had she been so concerned with her own wellbeing that she had ignored his?
Or had it been those strong arms around her? It had been impossible to ever imagine anything hurting him.
He laughed, “It is nothing, besides I didn’t want you chastising me about it.”
She sighed heavily as she gently reached up to touch the wound.
He winced again and drew away. It must be worse than she feared. “Here, take that off and let me look at it.”
Bradford hesitated which made her anger grow even stronger.
“When are you going to learn to just do what you are told?” she said. “Your life would be so much easier if you just listened to me.”
He scoffed as he began to slowly shrug out of his tight jacket. “Perhaps. But when are you going to learn to not be so demanding? It does get tiring.”
Olivia balked. Was she demanding?
Not now, she told herself. This was not the moment to examine herself. See to his wound.
She gasped as he pulled his jacket free, his white shirt was covered in deep red blood. This was more than a flesh wound.
“Sit here,” she said as she gently pushed him to an old wooden chair in the corner. Bradford sighed heavily in resignation and sat. She tried to examine the wound but his shirt was clotted with blood. Realizing there was not much choice, she took the shirt in her hand, quickly ripping it apart, exposing the wound.
“Olivia,” Bradford barked. “This is one of my favorite shirts.”
She shook her head as she gently probed the crease
across the top of his shoulder, “It has a round hole in it, burn marks, and is covered in blood. Were you really anticipating using it again?”
“Perhaps,” he said as little petulantly, “Mrs. Webb is very good with a needle and removing stains.”
Olivia sighed heavily as she realized the wound was not too serious. A bullet had torn through the fleshing part of his shoulder. Only a few inches from his neck. Even now the wound continued to seep blood. The thought of how close he had come to dying sent a cold chill down her spine.
“Bradford,” she said through tight lips, “You are rich enough to buy a linen factory. You can afford to lose a shirt. Now take it off and let me wash the wound.” Without waiting to see if he followed her instructions, she turned and tore a long piece of lace from the bottom of her petticoat.
Turning back, she was shocked to see him sitting in the chair, shirtless. His wide shoulders, strong chest, and thick arms were almost overwhelming. He was so male, she thought.
Taking a deep breath, she fought off the less than ladylike thoughts jumping into her head and proceeded to clean the wound.
“You know,” Bradford said. “If anyone saw us like this, they would never believe it.”
“What? That you are sitting in a barn half undressed,” she said as she continued to wash away the blood, exposing a nasty gash three inches long, across the top of his shoulder. A doctor would need to see to it. All she could do was ensure it was clean and the bleeding had stopped.
“No, that you were being nice to me,” he said. “ Not one of our friends would ever believe it.”
She froze for a second as she stared into his eyes. For just the briefest of moments, she became lost in their warm embrace. Her heart shifted a little before she forced herself to concentrate on her duty. Was he serious? Did he view her as mean and cruel? Did their friends? Should she add it to the list with her being too demanding?
Sighing, she finished washing the wound then bandaged it using pieces of his shirt and another strip of lace from her petticoat. Stepping to the side, she helped him slip on his jacket. A small sense of disappointment washed through her when he covered up those firm muscles. Without thinking, her hand rested on his back as she committed to memory his chiseled form.
Realizing that she was still touching him, she sighed heavily and turned away. Thankfully. At that moment. At last, an old but functional coach pulled into the yard. Driven by the young stable boy, now wrapped up in an old wool coat and cap. He pulled at the horses bringing the coach to a stop before the barn door.
Olivia noticed that the boy had placed the vehicle between them and the Inn. Providing further cover.
Bradford noticed it as well as he nodded his approval. “What’s your name?” he asked the young boy.
“John Stewart, M’lord,” the boy answered with a tug of his forelock. Olivia smiled to herself, the young man appeared to be both nervous and confident at the same time.
Bradford nodded then opened the coach door and twisted so that he could use his right hand to help her up. She frowned, even wounded, he was thinking of her.
Taking his hand, and gathering her dress, she stepped up into the coach. Bradford climbed up after her and tapped the coach ceiling. The young stable boy yelled at the horses and they were off.
They were truly bound for home, she realized. She was safe. All because of the man who sat across from her. Glancing at him from under her brow, she studied the Earl of Bradford while he looked out the side window.
He wasn’t the same lanky boy she had met all those years ago. He had grown into a tall, strong man. Now, sitting there with only a jacket, no shirt, his face rough with a two-day beard. His eyes drooping with fatigue. Even now, the man was devastatingly handsome. With high cheekbones, piercing eyes, and strong chin. The kind of man that made a woman feel like a woman.
There had been many women, she believed. How could there not be? Nathanial had been just as bad until he met Alice. But she knew deep down that Bradford would never change. The man was a born Rake.
Did he really think she was cruel, frivolous, demanding? she wondered. Surprised to find out how much it bothered her what he thought.
Granted, she had a sharp tongue, but she had always believed her comments rolled off him. And heaven knew, he could be just as sharp with her. What was good for the goose was good for the gander had always been her belief. Yet why were they always like that with each other? Prickly, never able to just relax.
Perhaps things could change in the future. Silently assuring herself that she would endeavor to improve her behavior. It was the least she could do for the man who had saved her.
Bradford sighed heavily and closed his eyes as he rested his head against the side of the coach. Yes, she would work on being a nicer person to him.
Chapter Eight
Olivia sighed heavily as the coach turned onto her street. Yes, she was almost there. Would Nathanial be there? Although it had only been a day. It had bothered her that her brother did not yet know she was safe. That Bradford had rescued her. All this time, he would have been fretting and worrying.
Thinking of Lord Bradford, she smiled to herself. Once they had entered London, he had called the coach to a halt so he could climb up onto the box next to young John and guide him through the streets.
The stable boy had done an excellent job. Controlling the horses, following Bradford’s instructions sharply, and with efficiency. Pulling them to a soft stop directly in front of her house.
Olivia quickly jumped out of the coach so she could be there to help Bradford down from the top of the coach. The man’s wounds must surely hamper him. As she waited, she glanced at her home, so happy to see it again, then turned and examined the neighborhood.
Several ladies across the street were openly staring, obviously interested in her and Lord Bradford returning in an old coach. Not Nathanial’s normal transport. Add to that, the fact that Lord Bradford wasn’t wearing a shirt under his Jacket. It must really be confusing.
Shaking it off, she reached up to help Bradford.
His brow furrowed at her outstretched hand as he totally ignored it and made his own way down from the box. Her insides tightened up. Couldn’t the man even acknowledge that she might be able to help?
Once he was down, still ignoring her, he turned to speak to John the stable boy.
“Take the coach around to the Caldwell’s mews in back. Tell them I sent you. They will care for the horses and see that you are fed. Here,” he added, tossing up a small bag of coins. “This should cover the day. And if you ever wish to work in a larger stable, see my man at Basingstoke. We can always use someone who knows horses like you do.”
The boy smiled back, his face bright with joy. “Yes, M’Lord. Yes, Basingstoke. I will M’lord.”
Olivia watched the exchange, at first a little perturbed at being delayed. But then it was so typical of Bradford. He always treated everyone fairly, she had to admit that to herself. While he had so many flaws. Unfairness or class snobbery was not among them.
Once the coachman had been taken care of, Bradford turned to look at her, his eyebrow rose, as if asking her why she was still there and not inside with her family. Olivia sighed heavily as she bit back a sharp retort. Be nicer, she reminded herself.
“Shall we?” Bradford asked her as he bowed slightly and held out a hand for her to go first.
Olivia swallowed. The adventure was about to come to an end. The sense of regret surprised her. While she was truly overjoyed to have escaped. Still, something was about to be lost.
No sooner had she begun up the steps when the front door was opened by their butler, Benson.
His face erupted with a large smile. “Miss Olivia, you are home.”
She smiled at his warm welcome. “Yes, Benson. I do apologize for returning late, I was unavoidably detained.”
He continued to smile at her then turned to Lord Bradford and dipped his head. “Well done, Sir. Well done, indeed.”
Bradford ack
nowledged the compliment then put a hand on the small of her back. Silently encouraging her. The gentle gesture moved her. Even now, he was concerned for her wellbeing.
“Olivia?” someone yelled from inside the house.
Taking a deep breath, Olivia stepped inside to be greeted by a whirlwind of hugs and tears. Amanda, first. The warmth of her hug reminded Olivia of just how worried she had been for her friend. To be put in that spot all because someone wanted money from Nathanial. It wasn’t fair and yet Amanda’s only concern had been her safety.
Next, was a quick embrace from Lady Alice, heavy with child.
“You came back?” Olivia said to her sister-in-law, surprised at how much it meant to her that Alice had braved a rough carriage ride at a time like this.
“Of course,” Alice said as she pulled her into another embrace. “Nathanial balked and stormed for a while, but when he realized he had no choice in the matter he settled down.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder at Bradford, wondering if he had heard Alice. Perhaps he might learn something.
“How are you, really?” Alice asked, obviously wondering the same thing everyone else was wondering. Had she been misused by those men?
“I’m fine,” she said, reassuring everyone.
A collective sigh of relief washed over the group.
“It is my turn,” Nathanial said as he held out his arms for her. Olivia sighed heavily as she fell into her brother’s embrace. She was safe, finally, she could relax.
“I must say,” Lord Warwick said as he pounded Bradford on the back. “You were right. How you knew I will never know, but you were right, thank God.”
“Careful, My Lord,” Olivia said to Lord Warwick as she pulled away from Nathanial. “Lord Bradford has been wounded.” Then addressing their butler, she said, “Benson, please send for a Doctor. I am fairly confident he will need to correct what little I could do to care for the wound.”
Lord Bradford held up a hand. “I am fine, it is nothing serious.”
She frowned at him, silently reminding him that in matters such as this he should just do what he was told. Turning to Benson, she nodded towards the door. The butler had long ago learned not to dismiss Miss Olivia when she gave him that look. Turning, he hurried off to do as instructed.
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